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"What an exhilarating confession," Aurora replied, giving her husband an impish look. "Too exhilarating to question. And so opportune. After all, I have yet to be washed—a serious dilemma, given that the water has grown cold. So please put your preoccupation to good use; scrub me as quickly as those incomparably skilled hands can manage, then transport me to your bed." She shifted her hips a tantalizing fraction. "After which, I invite you to indulge your craving—and your hands—yet again."
Julian's body leapt to life, his fleeting moments of temperance forgotten. "Again and again, soleil," he muttered thickly, reaching for the soap. "So many times, in fact, that it might be days before we return to Pembourne."
* * *
Aurora tended to agree.
The night was everything she'd dreamed of and more, endless hours drenched in a sensuality more exquisite than she'd ever imagined possible. Julian was tireless, his stamina far surpassing hers, his inhibitions nil, his desire for her unquenchable.
Finally, just before dawn, they rested, Aurora's head nestled in the curve of her husband's shoulder.
"Have I overtaxed you?" Julian murmured, sifting strands of Aurora's red-gold hair through his fingers.
Aurora smiled. "I was about to ask the same question of you."
A chuckle. "Fear not. I'm exceptionally resilient when it comes to you. Whatever limits are to be set must be yours to determine."
"Mine? Oh, dear. I guess we really won't be returning to Pembourne anytime soon."
"Does that disturb you?"
"Given the cause of our detainment—no. The Fox and the Falcon have waited this long. They'll wait a bit longer."
"Indeed they will." Julian traced the delicate curve of his wife's spine. "I haven't forgotten my promise, you know."
"Which promise is that?"
"To show you the world. The moment the black diamond is restored to its rightful home, you and I will go on an extended wedding trip."
Aurora's face lit up. "That sounds perfect." An inquisitive pucker formed between her brows. "Don't you ordinarily travel alone?"
"Always."
"I thought so, given your line of work."
"A wedding trip with you can hardly be described as work, soleil," he said huskily.
"I realize that. Still…" A thoughtful pause. "Julian, you invited no one to our wedding. Surely there must be someone you're bound to—a friend, a colleague?"
"Not particularly."
She sighed. "You're as autonomous as Slayde used to be."
"You sound amazed."
"Puzzled is a better choice of words. Having been alone a great deal of my life, I can't imagine anyone choosing a life of loneliness."
"Choosing to be alone doesn't necessarily imply that one is lonely. It simply implies that one elects when he'll have company and who that company will be."
"Women, you mean?"
"Why do you assume that?"
"Because I saw the expression on that barmaid's face when we were at Dawlish's. She looked like a mare snuggling up to a stallion."
"A stallion?" Julian's grin was seductive. "I rather like that analogy."
"I don't."
