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Triumph flashed in Julian's eyes. "You're absolutely right—he can. An excellent idea, soleil."

"I think so, too." Aurora gave him a beatific smile, gathered up her skirts, and headed for the door. "I'll have your carriage brought around at once."

* * *

Darkness had fallen when Julian unlocked the room the innkeeper had provided them and guided Aurora inside. Frowning, he hesitated in the doorway, glancing up and down the semi-darkened corridor of the quiet Somerset inn. Distant clinking sounds reached his ears from the floor below as the inn's coffeehouse patrons enjoyed their dinner and port. Other than that, all was still, the corridor housing the sleeping quarters as deserted as the stairway leading to it.

Julian's gaze swept the hall one last time before he stepped into the room, shutting and bolting the door.

"Julian, what is it?" Aurora demanded, her turquoise eyes bright with curiosity. "That's the second time you've checked behind us since we arrived, not to mention the long intervals you spent staring out our carriage window during the journey. Is someone following us?"

"It appears not." Julian crossed over, moving aside the drapes and peering down to the ground below. "Although I can't shake the feeling…" He shrugged, turning to his wife, his smile restored. "F

orgive me, soleil. I didn't mean to distress you."

Aurora arched a brow as if deciding whether to question him further.

"If there's something to be concerned about, you'll be the first to know," Julian assured her, consciously forcing himself to relax. Until he had proof that they were indeed being followed, there was no point in alarming his wife.

"I wasn't feeling distressed or alarmed," Aurora clarified, stunning Julian yet again with her unique blend of audacity and candor. "I was feeling neglected." Slowly she unfastened her mantle and tossed it to the chair. "I'm relieved to hear there was a reason for your decided lack of interest during this carriage ride, much unlike our previous ones. I'd rather learn that your actions were a show of caution rather than disinterest."

"Disinterest?" Julian would have laughed at the irony of his wife's statement had his body not been screaming its own immediate blatant contradiction. Just her words, her provocative tone, ignited his blood, set him on fire. "No, soleil, I assure you, disinterest is one reaction I never have around you."

"I'm glad." With a siren's smile, Aurora tugged the pins from her hair, shaking it out in a luxuriant crimson waterfall. "Then perhaps you'd like to make up for your earlier lack of attention—right now, in this lovely cozy inn."

"With pleasure." Julian stalked across the room, capturing Aurora and hauling her into his arms. "I'm suddenly grateful Henry's office isn't closer to Devonshire," he muttered, his fingers deftly unfastening the buttons of his wife's gown in rapid succession. "Very grateful." Greedily he covered her mouth with his.

"So am I," Aurora breathed, unbuttoning Julian's shirt and tugging it free. Her palms slid inside, glided up the warm, hair-roughened skin of his chest.

Her thumbs brushed his nipples and the filaments of Julian's control snapped.

In seconds he had Aurora naked; a heartbeat later his own clothing was in a pile on the floor. Kicking it aside, he swept his wife to the bed, pausing only to yank back the bedcovers before he tumbled her to the sheets and lowered his full weight upon her.

"You make me insane," Julian said huskily, tangling his hands in her hair. "How many times have I had you these past few days—a dozen? More?" He kissed her—a deep, bone-melting kiss that sent blood pounding through his brain, desire hammering at his loins. "It's a wonder you can still walk—that either of us can breathe. And the most amazing part is, it's not enough. The fire between us just keeps blazing hotter, higher. I want you so much, I'm consumed with it." Tugging back her head, he buried his lips in hers.

Aurora responded instantly, wrapping her arms fiercely about Julian's back, arching up to increase the exquisite friction of their naked skin. "I want you the same way," she managed, shivering in the way that made live flames lick through his veins.

His knee wedged her thighs apart, his manhood hard and straining, already desperate for release.

Staring into Aurora's passion-glazed eyes, Julian abruptly stopped, his hands balling into fists on either side of her head.

Dammit. He wanted more than this, more than a swift, fevered coupling. He wanted to awaken his wife to yet another level of passion, to share the wonder of her discovery as he took her to new heights, to feel her come apart in his arms.

To satisfy another fantasy that had clawed at him since the moment he'd spied her at Dawlish's.

Vehemently he gritted his teeth, clamped down on his reckless need for completion.

"Julian?" Aurora sounded confused, her hands tugging at his shoulders, urging him down to her. "Why are you stopping?"

"Because I want to savor this—to savor you." He nipped lightly at her lower lip, trying to ignore the tantalizing motions of her body as she moved restlessly beneath him. "Soon," he promised huskily, kissing the scented hollow at her throat.

"No … now."

He shifted lower, teased one nipple with his tongue. "Not yet."

"Julian—please…"

Her plea burned through him like a brushfire, the urgent arching of her body more than he could bear. "All right, soleil—now."

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