The Black Diamond (9 page)

"I surmised as much," Aurora put in as calmly as if she were discussing a change in the weather.

"Aurora." Julian's palms dropped to her shoulders, gripped them tightly. "I vowed to your brother mere minutes ago that I would make certain you remained safe. I mean to keep that vow. But I need your cooperation. This isn't a game. Privateers don't adhere to rules, nor do they operate by a code of honor. If you and I strike an agreement, it will be I—not you—who incur the risks. Is that clear?"

Exhilaration splashed across Aurora's face. "
That's
why you're so adamant about this marriage taking place. You not only believe that by joining forces we can expedite the search for the black diamond, you believe my help is required to unearth it. What is it I must do? Where is it we must travel to gather our clues? India? Tibet? China?"

This was worse than Julian had feared. "Did you hear a word I just said?" he demanded.

"I heard you." She sat forward eagerly. "Tell me where we must voyage to ensure that it is we and not those odious privateers of whom you spoke who find the stone."

"If I'm right—nowhere."

Her shoulders slumped. "Nowhere?"

"Other than Pembourne and Morland Manor," Julian amended, finding it difficult not to smile at her crestfallen expression. "Consider the facts. Our great-grandfathers were partners. Mine left the legacy of the Fox to his first deserving heir. It stands to reason that the Falcon might very well have done the same. 'Tis up to us to find that legacy, in whatever form James left it. By reading Geoffrey's journal, I peeled back one layer of the past. 'Tis time we peeled back the second: namely, learning more about James. The logical place to do that is right here at Pembourne. Your great-grandfather's past might not be as concisely arranged as Geoffrey's, but he's bound to have left clues. Clues which when added to those we already possess, together with those I have yet to uncover at Morland, will shed light on the Fox and the Falcon—their lives, their treasures … and most of all, the place in which they concealed those treasures. A place that can only be uncovered by the Huntleys and the Bencrofts when working together—as partners."

"You believe the black diamond is hidden in one of our homes?"

"No. I believe your great-grandfather returned to England and secreted the stone in the customary hiding spot he and Geoffrey used to conceal their wares prior to delivering them to King George. 'Twas the only way James could be certain that should anything happen to him, Geoffrey would know just where to go to retrieve the stone and fulfill the mission. However, I also believe the clues leading to that location are in not one, but both our homes. And that with a direct and concentrated effort, we can amass them, find that hiding place … and consequently, the black diamond."

"Which is right here in England." Aurora gave a resigned sigh. "Your theory makes sense. If all the clues are hidden at Pembourne and Morland, 'twould explain why none of the privateers who have combed the globe in search of the stone was successful in finding it." A quizzical look. "But if we're not going abroad, what new dangers would be threatening us?"

"To begin with, you'd no longer be within your brother's fortress, protected by his guards," Julian pointed out. "You'd be coming and going with your husband, placing your life, your well-being, in his hands—
my
hands." Julian's thumb caressed her cheek. "And that,
soleil
, requires trust."

Aurora never averted her gaze. "I realize that."

"Trust," he added meaningfully, "is a gift that must be earned over time—which we don't have."

"I disagree. Not about the fact that we haven't the luxury of time, but about the fact that time is a requirement for trust. Trust comes from within and is ofttimes instinctive rather than earned. I trusted you without even knowing your name, from the moment you scooped me up in Dawlish's and rescued me from my own stupidity. I trusted you then. I trust you now."

"I'm humbled." Julian felt oddly moved by the heartfelt candor of her words. "Further, I promise to do everything in my power to live up to that trust. Including being honest with you, even if it means your refusing my proposal."

"Which brings us to whatever it is you were alluding to when you said there were a few things I needed to understand about you."

"Exactly." Julian drew a slow, contemplative breath. "The search for the black diamond notwithstanding, do you realize what I do? Who I am? Are you truly aware of the kind of life I lead?"

"By experience, no. By definition, yes. You're a mercenary, a man who seeks wealth and excitement by traveling the world, taking on ventures that yield huge monetary rewards and equally huge doses of exhilaration and triumph."

A corner of Julian's mouth lifted. "Accurate enough. But you failed to mention the darker aspects: the dangers, the risks, the consequences of restoring one man's possession by wresting it from another. In short, I've learned to sleep lightly, with one eye open, and never to be caught with my back turned. If I did, let's just say there are many who for various reasons and in various parts of the world would be delighted to plunge a knife into it."

Aurora's brows drew together, not so much with worry as with speculation. "In other words, you have quite a few enemies."

"Enough."

"Can you tell me about them? Or about your exploits, for that matter?"

"Perhaps someday," Julian hedged. "For now, you need only know the facts. My life is turbulent. Turbulent and dangerous."

"I suspected as much."

"You're not intimidated?"

A smile curved Aurora's lips. "Why should I be? You vowed to Slayde that you'd keep me safe."

"So I did." Julian was claimed by an odd surge of relief—one that had nothing to do with his determination to find the black diamond. "And so I shall." His gaze fell to her lips, sparking a nearly uncontrollable urge to drag her into his arms, rekindle the fire they'd ignited last night. "Once we've restored the black diamond, you're welcome to stay behind, forego the rigors of my existence," he offered, knowing damned well he didn't mean a word of it. The more intimate aspects of this marriage, the erotic fantasy of Aurora as his wife, necessitated having her with him—under him, surrounding him—every possible moment.

Evidently Aurora sensed the direction his thoughts had taken, because her awareness of him seemed to intensify, her breath coming a bit faster, her lips parting beneath his heated gaze. "Stay behind?" she managed.

"Um-hum." Giving in to his craving to touch her more fully, Julian slid his hand beneath her hair, caressing her nape in slow, heated strokes. "I own a great deal of property, including a manor in Cornwall that overlooks the water." He angled her head, pressed his lips to the pulse at her throat, fully aware he was using seduction to influence her decision and feeling not a shred of guilt for doing so. "When I'm in England, I spend most of my time there. I think you'd like it. You could make it your home during my absence." His mouth slid around, tasted the delicate line of her jaw. "I employ a small staff of servants there. They could look after you while I'm abroad. I'd be away several months at a time…"

"No." Aurora was trembling but her words were utterly coherent, her hands balling into fists at her sides. "I've had more than enough tranquility and confinement to last a lifetime. If we marry, I want to accompany you on your adventures."

"I think that could be arranged," Julian murmured, teasing the corner of her mouth with his. "Most of the time," he clarified, his hands gripping her shoulders, urging her closer. "If there's excessive risk involved, I reserve the right to insist that you stay in England, safe."

"So long as that isn't too often," she qualified breathlessly. "I'm not afraid of risk."

"Only curses," he modified in a husky whisper.

"Only curses."

"Agreed, then. On most excursions you'll accompany me."

"After all, you did promise me passion." Her cheeks were flushed, her eyes drowsy with awakening sensation. "And passion, as I understand it, requires proximity, does it not?"

"Indeed it does.
Close
proximity." Aroused beyond bearing, Julian stood, dragging Aurora to her feet and into his arms. "I think we've negotiated enough, don't you,
soleil?"

"Oh, definitely." Unashamedly Aurora reached up, twined her arms about Julian's neck. "From the tenor of our conversation, I was beginning to fear you wanted strictly a marriage of convenience."

"You have no worries on that score." His fingers slid down the length of her arms to her shoulders, threaded through her hair. "No worries at all."

With that his mouth seized hers, capturing it for a scorching, melding, bottomless kiss that eclipsed the memory of last night beneath its molten flames.

Blood pounded through Julian's head, hammered at his loins, as the same dark wave that had claimed him at Dawlish's engulfed him, dragging him into a hot sea of sensation. Aurora's taste was heaven, her scent and feel more intoxicating than brandy—even through the confines of their clothes. He couldn't get enough of her, parting her lips, possessing her with deep, hungry strokes of his tongue. He hauled her closer, lifted her into him.

And felt the exhilaration of her response.

With an inarticulate sound of pleasure, Aurora threw herself into the kiss, holding him fiercely, meeting the tantalizing strokes of his tongue with her own.

The fire blazed higher.

Anchoring her with one arm, Julian's other hand slid around to cup her breast, his thumb finding her already hardened nipple and rubbing it—back and forth, back and forth—groaning aloud at the sheer agonizing pleasure, drinking in Aurora's tiny whimpers of arousal. He tore his mouth from hers, lowering his head to capture the hardened peak between his lips, tugging at the wet silk until Aurora cried out, clutched his shirtfront in tight, shivering fists.

He was actually on the verge of lowering her to the oriental rug when the grandfather clock in the hall began to chime, penetrating Julian's passion-dazed mind and reminding him of where they were, how brief a time remained before Slayde returned.

With a herculean effort, he raised his head, staring into Aurora's astonished turquoise eyes as he slowly lowered her to her feet. "Are you all right?"

A quavering nod. "I think so."

"Then you're faring better than I." Dragging air into his lungs, Julian tried to remember when he'd ever felt so disoriented, so out of control … so frustrated. "I'm half-tempted to whisk you off to Gretna Green right now and damn the formalities to hell."

"I'm half-tempted to let you," Aurora returned candidly, adjusting her bodice with unsteady fingers.

Julian watched her, wanting nothing more than to tear the gown from her body and bury himself inside her. "Aurora—marry me."

She tilted her head back, an impish grin curving her lips. "You're a very convincing man, Your Grace. Further, if what just happened wasn't an acceptance of your marriage proposal, I don't know what would be."

"What just happened was only the beginning." He framed her hot cheeks between his palms, raised her gaze to meet his. "Remember one thing, Aurora. I want that stone. But I also want you."

Her fingertips traced his lower lip. "How fortunate. Soon you'll have both."

"Is that a yes?"

"That's a yes."

"I'll get a special license." He drew her fingers into his mouth one by one, nibbling lightly. "How much time do you need?"

"How much do you intend to provide?"

"A fortnight. No more. Less if possible."

"I think a fortnight would be ideal. It would give me enough time to prepare and Courtney enough time to convince my brother he's doing the right thing by handing me over to you."

Julian chuckled. "I presume the latter will take a full two weeks."