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hingness. Then he went over—plunging downward, his piercing scream echoing through the cliffs, gradually fading away as it was swallowed up by the rushing currents.
A heartbeat of silence.
Abruptly Julian bolted to his feet, stalking over to Aurora and dragging her into his arms. "Tell me you're all right," he commanded.
The pistol slid to the ground and Aurora nodded, gazing up at Julian as if to verify that he was indeed here, safe, as was she. "I'm fine," she managed shakily, reaching up to touch his face, to lay her palm against his jaw. "Especially now that you're holding me. Oh, Julian, I thought you were … that he had…" Two tears slid down her cheeks. "That I was about to lose you."
"You'll never lose me." A fierce light ignited her husband's eyes. "Not now—not ever." He gathered her close, pressed her head to his chest. "I love you," he proclaimed, his voice tight, his lips buried in her hair. "God, how I love you."
* * *
Chapter 15
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They spent all that day and night at a Falmouth inn—first replenishing their bodies with food, then bathing away the dirt and horrors of the past hours, and—finally, finally—climbing into the warm, soft bed.
"This is heaven," Aurora murmured, sinking into the mattress with a grateful sigh.
"No," Julian murmured, drawing her naked body against his. "This is heaven." He caressed the delicate line of her spine, his hands gliding down to cup her bottom, lifting her against his straining manhood. "I should let you sleep," he admitted, kissing her shoulders, her neck, her throat. "But I can't. I need you. God, I almost lost you." He threaded his fingers through her hair, tugged back her head, and buried his lips in hers.
"We can sleep later." Aurora twined her arms about Julian's neck, understanding and sharing his need to reaffirm their life, their love. "Much later."
He kissed her deeply, hungrily, possessing her mouth with bone-melting thoroughness and an equal amount of tenderness. "Are you sure you're all right?" he demanded between kisses. "That son of a bitch didn't hurt you, did he?"
"No, he didn't hurt me." Aurora's palms slid to Julian's shoulders, eased him away so she could gaze directly into his eyes. "As for how I am, I'd be totally renewed if you'd repeat those three wonderful words you said to me on the cliff."
A spasm of emotion crossed Julian's face, passion temporarily supplanted by something deeper, more profound. "Gladly," he said, his voice husky with emotion. "I love you. You can't know how much. God help me, even I didn't fathom how much—until this morning." He swallowed, cradling her face between his palms. "I've been a bloody fool, telling myself I was the same man I was a month ago; that I could control how much I allowed you to permeate my existence, my heart—that I even wanted to try. The truth is, my entire life changed the minute you walked into Dawlish's that night—I changed. And I wouldn't undo that change for all the world's adventures combined."
Tears glistened on Aurora's lashes. "When did you realize you loved me?"
"Yesterday while you were sleeping in my arms in the sitting room. But I wanted to wait, to tell you when I could savor the words, savor you. Then, that bastard kidnapped you…" Julian broke off, a muscle working in his jaw. "You have no idea how terrified I was. If I hadn't found you in time…"
"But you did," she interjected softly. "Deep down, I knew you would. Although how you managed, given your wound…" Her fingertips traced the narrow bandage at his throat.
"My wound is fine," Julian assured her, capturing her hand and bringing it to his lips. "Just a bit raw. As I told you, it was only a flesh wound. It stopped bleeding minutes after you went to collect the towels. But nothing short of death would have stopped me from going after you. As for how I managed, I borrowed Rawley's mare and rode as far as St. Austell, where I changed horses."
"How could you have taken time for that and still kept on our trail?"
"I know the terrain of Cornwall, soleil." Julian kissed her wrist, his lips trailing up her forearm to the curve of her elbow. "Especially the woods and the inland hills, where one can travel by horse but not by carriage. I was actually ahead of you at one point. I also have quite a few contacts—one of whom has a stable in St. Austell. He gave me his swiftest mount and his assurance that Rawley's mare would be returned. When I realized where Guillford was dragging you, I rode on ahead, left my horse in Falmouth, and took a more direct route by foot, from Helston to the black cliffs. After that, it was only a matter of following you from the peaks above, and waiting."
"But…"
"Aurora," Julian interrupted, nuzzling the scented hollow at her throat. "We have a hundred things yet to discuss. And we will—later. But right now—" He raised his head, letting her see the naked urgency in his eyes. "—I've got to be inside you, to feel you all around me, to know you're here alive, safe in my arms. Can you understand that, soleil?"
Wordlessly Aurora nodded, drawing Julian's mouth down to hers.
He'd made to love to her countless times before, but never like this.
Solemn, intense, he worshiped every inch of her, his hands shaking as he caressed her, touched her with a reverence that obliterated all the day's ugliness and transformed it to beauty, warming their souls and heightening their passion tenfold.
Aurora's eyes slid shut, her nerve endings throbbing with excitement, clamoring for more.
Julian gave it to her—with his hands, his words, his mouth.
By the time he entered her, Aurora was frantic, her body on fire, her breath coming in wild, broken pants. "Please," she whispered, tugging at his shoulders. "Julian, please…"
"No earthly force could stop me," he rasped, his knees pressing her thighs wide apart.
