Mira shook her head sadly. “Nicholas, soon your life will not be so solitary. I must confess, this is not about you at all. It is about me and any, um, children we might have.” She colored at the mention of children, ducking her head to avoid his gaze. “Have you considered that the scandal which clouds your name will shadow us as well? If you are not received in company, I, as your wife, will not be received either. And, even worse, if the scandal persists, our children will lead a lonely life, filled with scorn for something not of their doing. You may not care about what others think, but for my sake and the sake of the family we will make together, I do.”

When she finished her explanation, Mira looked up to find Nicholas staring back at her with the most remarkable expression on his face, an expression of puzzlement and wonder and frustration and satisfaction all mixed together.

Suddenly, then, he leaned forward until his face was just a whisper away from her own. He raised his hand to stroke one finger along the curve of her ear, and then he pushed his fingers through the baby-fine hairs at the nape of her neck, pulling the hair loose from its pins, until his large warm hand wrapped entirely around the back of her head, cradling it gently but firmly.

Mira gasped at the sudden intimacy of the gesture, and before she could release that breath of surprise, Nicholas closed the distance between them, his lips meeting hers in a tender, searching kiss.

Mira’s lashes fluttered closed and, with only an instant’s hesitation, she returned his kiss, her own lips moving softly against his. Her response elicited a groan from Nicholas, more a vibration than a sound, and he deepened the kiss. While his right hand continued to cup her head, steadying it carefully, his left hand rose to caress her jaw, his fingers gently but insistently stroking the tender skin at the corner of her mouth until her lips parted. When she gasped again, she drank in Nicholas’s warm breath, redolent of sweet smoky tea and something sharper. Cloves, perhaps. Mira timidly ran the tip of her tongue along the supple curve of flesh of Nicholas’s lower lip. Definitely cloves, and still another taste that she could only describe as Nicholas. He was delicious.

Nicholas responded to Mira’s overture by pulling her closer and plunging his own tongue deep into her mouth with a sudden tender ferocity, drinking in her essence like a man dying of thirst. She raised her hands to the hard wall of his chest to steady herself beneath his passionate onslaught. His heart raced beneath her fingers, his breath filling his body in deep ragged gulps.

Then, as suddenly as the kiss began, Nicholas ended it. His mouth left hers, but his hand continued to cradle her head, fingers massaging gently, and he rested his forehead against hers. His hot breath fanned her face, sending shivers of delicious sensation over Mira’s skin.

When Nicholas finally leaned back, somewhat more composed, he pinned Mira with his insistent gaze. “You will not investigate the murders of those young women, do you understand me?”

His words were like a dousing with cold water, shocking Mira out of her pleasant, muzzy haze. She sat upright, pushing against his hand in a fruitless effort to break free of his grasp. “My lord, we are not yet wed. You do not yet own me. I shall do as I see fit!”

Nicholas’s fingers tightened slightly in her hair, and he gave her head a gentle shake of exasperation. “This is not a question of marital power. You silly goose. Have you considered that you nosing about, asking questions about the murders, might put the real villain on the alert? God forbid, what if you stumble onto the truth? Do you think that a man who has killed at least two young women, quite probably three, will simply say, ‘Jolly good show, old gal, you got me!’ No, Mira, you will be putting yourself in very real danger. I cannot have that.”

Mira stilled, considering his concerns. It was true, she had not thought much about the possibility that her investigation would prove dangerous, only that it would be difficult. But Nicholas was right; her inquiries could draw the attention of the true culprit and make him nervous enough to want to eliminate her. It was a chilling thought. On the other hand, she could not see that she had much choice. “I am moved by your concern, but I believe that the truth is worth the risk. I will simply endeavor to be discreet in my inquiries.”

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