"Thank you," she said. Surprise crossed his face, and she released a soft sniff of disbelief. "Let me guess, your wife never says thank you."

"I don't believe it's in your vocabulary...Victoria," he said with a small smile that hinted he was baffled by her behavior.

The moment he spoke her name, her skin tingled as if she'd just been shocked. There was a seductive quality to the deep timbre of his voice that made her heart race and released butterflies in her stomach. Even his green-eyed gaze made her heart jump in her chest. God help her if he decided to unleash the full force of his good looks and charm on her.

"If thank you isn't in your wife's vocabulary, and I refuse to let you call me Vickie, how much of a leap is it to accept that I'm Victoria Ashton, not your countess?"

"An impossible one." The impassive, unyielding mask had returned to his face. "I admit your performance is quite remarkable, but I doubt I'll ever be convinced you're anyone other than my wife."

"What would it take to convince you?"

The quiet sincerity and frustration in her voice seemed to touch a nerve in him. A strange look crossed his face, and he closed the distance between them. Victoria struggled to keep her pulse under control as his quizzical gaze warmed her skin. With a swift movement, he captured her chin in his strong fingers, his thumb tracing the fullness of her bottom lip. The unexpected caress made her quiver as her heart pounded a fierce rhythm inside her.

"I wonder," he murmured, almost as though speaking his thoughts aloud. Mesmerized by his hooded gaze, anticipation sent a delicious warmth racing through her body. She licked her lips and drew in a quick breath as the earl's head descended toward her mouth.

The instant his lips met hers, a wave of desire swept her out into the depths of a sea she'd never swum in before. Fire blazed its way through her limbs, and she trembled with an unexpected need.

Base instinct took control as she returned his kiss, her tongue teasing his lips apart until it danced with his. The growl reverberating in his chest sent a frisson tingling through her as she pressed her body into his. God, her knees were actually rubbery from his kiss. None of the other men she'd dated had ever made her feel wobbly like this.

Warm hands pushed the sleeves of her gown downward until she heard a soft ripping sound. The sleeves fell away from her arms, and the gown's bodice fell to her waist. A low moan rose in her throat as his hand caressed the top of one shoulder before he wrapped his arms around her to pull her tight against him. Their kiss deepened as his tongue mated with hers in a furious dance of desire.

Victoria murmured a protest as his lips slid away from hers to glide down the side of her neck to her shoulder. Lost in the fire of his touch, she didn't realize he'd undone the laces of her corset until his mouth caught the tip of her breast in his mouth. She shuddered as he sucked on her nipple then gently bit down on it before swirling his hot tongue around the hard peak.

An ache latched itself to her insides, and she realized she was wet between her thighs. The heat melting through her tugged another moan from her, and her hands slid through the black thickness of his hair. Oh God, she wanted him. She wanted him now. On the floor, on the bed, she didn't care, as long as he eased the intense longing clutching the lower half of her body.

He'd not changed out of his riding clothes, and her hand slid downward across his chest to his erection. It was hard and thick beneath his breeches. A dark rumble sounded in his throat as she stroked him through the fawn-colored material. Trembling with a frightening need for him, Victoria uttered a soft cry as a shudder rippled through her, and she recognized it for the small climax it was.

If the man could make her have an orgasm with only a kiss, heaven help her when he actually entered her. Lost in the heated pleasure of the moment she vaguely heard the knock at the door. The knock sounded again, and with a sharp movement, Nicholas released her. Quickly stepping away from her, he tugged her corset and dress up before he issued an authoritative command to enter. As a young woman entered the room, Nicholas was already heading toward the connecting door between their room.

"Molly, see to it that the countess is downstairs in the salon within the hour," he ordered brusquely over his shoulder then disappeared from the room.

Denied what her body craved, Victoria experienced a strong wave of disappointment. She immediately drew in a swift breath as she realized what had almost happened. Simply because everyone thought they were married didn't make it right. The real countess could return at any moment. Sharp and abrupt, a dark certainty swept through her. The Countess of Guildford wasn't coming back because the woman was dead. Victoria didn't know how she knew it, but her body reacted to the knowledge with a violent wave of nausea.

Ice coated her skin, and she fell forward into a dark pit. The hard ground rose up to meet her as she stared up into a dark abyss. Tiny pinpricks of light pierced the darkness, and she realized they were stars. Dark forms suddenly blocked out the star-filled sky. The insidious sound of a shovel slicing into dirt with a sharp scraping sound echoed loudly in her ears before dirt landed on top of her.

Fear slithered through her veins as her body remained stiff and unmoving no matter how hard she tried to take control of her limbs. More dirt splattered across her face. Desperately, she struggled to breathe as the earth clogged her nose and mouth. Fire filled her lungs, while the rest of her body was cold as ice.

She wanted to sob from the pain, but couldn't. Suddenly, the pain disappeared as a white mist surrounded her. A peaceful quiet filled the fog and soothed her. Voices echoed from a distance, and a whisper she'd heard once before filled her ears.

"Fight, Victoria. Come back to me. Come back to me now."

She knew she should recognize the man's voice, but she couldn't remember how or why. She took a step toward the roughly spoken sound, when the mist blew away as swiftly as it had come. Victoria took a breath and shuddered as fresh air filled her lungs. Strong arms held her steady, and she blinked several times until her gaze focused on the Nicholas' worried expression. She was at Brentwood Park.

"Nicholas?" she murmured.

"It's all right," he said in a gentle voice. "You fainted and managed to give Molly quite a scare."

"Fainted?"

Victoria shook her head slightly in an effort to throw off the dizziness still making her feel off balance. His fingers lightly brushed her forehead and a sensation pierced her disoriented state. The rock hard strength of Nicholas' arms around her. It was a strong and protective embrace, and she'd never felt so safe.

"My lord, shall I call for the physician?"

The young woman who'd entered the room earlier stepped into view, and the fearful apprehension on the maid's face made Victoria shake her head quickly.

"No. No, doctors."

"You're clearly unwell, Victoria." A dark frown creased his forehead giving him the appearance of a dark angel, but she wasn't frightened. It was the look of a man intent on protecting her.

"I fainted. I'm sure it's from hunger. I don't remember the last time I ate." Victoria stared up at him with a silent plea not to call a physician. He studied her for a long moment before he nodded.

"No doctors," he said. "But if this happens again, I will call Dr. Bertram."

"Thank you." Her response caused his eyebrows to arch.

"Three times in one day," he said quietly. His puzzlement said he was struggling with his conviction as to her identity. "Molly, help the countess with her bath and arrange for a meal to be brought up. As for you madam wife, you're to spend the rest of the evening in bed."

"But-"

"No arguments, Victoria."

The inflexible set to his features made her frown, but she remained silent. When she was capable of standing on her own, he released her from his embrace. The moment her body was deprived of his heat, she wanted to throw herself back into his arms again. She swallowed hard, as he retreated for a second time to the corridor connecting their rooms. Once again his departure left her feeling bereft, but this time she didn't want to try and determine the depth of the sensation.

Chapter 6.

Present Day The hospital room was quiet except for the steady beep of a heart monitor as Nick stared at the woman in the bed. Nothing made sense to him anymore. One minute he'd been arguing with Nora about a portrait he'd been unable to part with since he was a teenager, and in the next he'd seen that portrait come to life in the gallery. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught the movement of the door opening. He'd expected the nurse and was surprised to see his sister walk into the room. With a quick glance at his watch, he realized it was eight in the morning.

"Hi," Nora said softly. "How is she?"

"The same."

"I brought you a change of clothes since you were so damn determined to spend the night." Nora held up an overnight bag and he nodded.

"Thanks," he said quietly.

"You look like crap. When was the last time you had something to eat?"

"I'm not hungry," Nick muttered as he shoved his hand through his hair.

"Did you get any sleep?"

"Enough." He didn't bother to point out it had been impossible to sleep.

"Damn it, Nick, you can't stay glued to this woman's side day and night. It's crazy." Nora glared at him with sisterly concern.

"I'm not leaving her."

"Well for God's sakes, take the time to visit the cafeteria. If you insist on staying here, you at least need to eat."

"When I get hungry, I'll go down and get a sandwich. Will that satisfy you?"

"For now, but I'm more concerned as to why you feel the need to stay with her twenty-four seven."

Nick heard the troubled note in his sister's voice, but ignored it. He shifted his gaze to the hospital bed and the woman attached to an IV and two different monitors. He'd never been a believer in fate, but the last twenty-four hours were making him wonder about a lot of things. The one thing he knew without any doubt or reservation was that it was impossible to leave Victoria's side. She's everything to me. My life. My world. Without her, life has no meaning.

The sound of Nora's gasp made him jerk his gaze back to his sister, and the look on her face made him realize he'd spoken his thoughts out loud. He stood up with an abrupt motion, rubbing the back of his neck as he tried to think of a way to explain his strange behavior to Nora. Even for all his sister's belief in the occult, he wasn't sure he could explain everything he was feeling. He walked to the side of Victoria's bed and lightly caressed her wrist just above the gauze that protected the burn on her hand.

"I think it's time we had a heart to heart," his sister said firmly.

"I don't need you trying to get into my head, Nora." He shot a warning look over his shoulder at her. "Nothing's going to change the way I feel."

"And what about Victoria?" Nora bobbed her head in the direction of Victoria's still form. "What are you going to do if she wakes up and doesn't feel the same way."

"She will," he uttered the words with a fierce conviction he didn't understand but believed with a certainty that stunned him.

He looked down at Victoria and her pale features. Gently, he brushed a strand of auburn hair off her cheek. She looked as though she were sleeping and would wake up at any moment. It was precisely why he wasn't going to leave her. He wanted to be here when she woke up, and no matter what Dr. Bertram or any of the other doctors said, Victoria was going to wake up.

"What makes you so sure she's going to feel the same way you do?"

"If I knew that don't you think I'd tell you?" He closed his eyes for a moment then faced his sister. "Nora, with the exception of that portrait in my office, you know I'm the most practical, logical man you'd ever hope to meet."

"Are you telling me that's changed?"

"I don't know." Nick shoved his hands into his pants pockets and shrugged. "The only thing I'm sure of is that I've spent most of the night trying to figure out what the hell is happening to me."

"Could you be feeling guilty?" Nora asked softly.

"Guilt?" He frowned. "You mean because I wasn't hurt and Victoria was?"

"Yes." His sister nodded and watched him with that assessing gaze of hers.

"No," he said with a soft grunt. "I've already considered that. This isn't guilt."

Nick moved to stare out the hospital window, his brain vaguely noting how the morning sun illuminated the hospital garden below. Memories of yesterday afternoon flooded his head. The first moment when he'd seen Victoria in the shop. The explosive sound of the blast. The sight of Victoria's agony as electricity lashed through her body. The way she'd collapsed like a rag doll against the wall. But it was the knowing he'd lost her somewhere in the distant past that confused him the most. He was finding it almost impossible to reconcile what happened yesterday with the logical order of his daily life.

A low moan from the hospital bed jerked Nick's attention away from the window as the monitor started beeping madly. In three strides, he was at Victoria's side. Gently, he wrapped his hand around her wrist and brushed his fingers gently across her forehead.

"Victoria. Can you hear me? Victoria."

"No. Not. Vickie." Her words were barely distinguishable, and Nick leaned closer in hopes she would say something else.

"Fight, Victoria. Come back to me," he rasped urgently. "Come back to me now, my sweet witch."

The door to the hospital room burst open as two nurses charged into the room. As they checked Victoria's still motionless body and reviewed the monitors, the equipment alarms shut off abruptly. Once more, the steady beep the monitors had maintained throughout the night filled the room. Victoria didn't make another sound, and Nick lowered his head to kiss her forehead.

One of the nurses gently pushed him out of the way so she could examine Victoria's responses. When she'd finished, the nurse looked at her colleague and shook her head. Fear sliced through him. What if he were wrong? What if Victoria never woke up from this coma? He pummeled the defeatist thought into submission. He wasn't wrong. She would wake up. A few moments later, the nurses left the room, and Nick moved back to Victoria's side.

Silently, he urged her to hear him. Urged her to come back to him. Nick grew still as he remembered what he'd murmured to her. Sweet witch? It was too specific an endearment for him to simply brush aside, and it only increased his confusion as to what was happening to him.

"Sweet witch? Not sweetheart? Where in the hell did you come up with that one?" Nora asked with bemused curiosity.

"I don't know," he bit out in a tight voice as he looked over his shoulder at her. "It just came out."

"Right," she said softly with a look of skepticism.

"Let it be, Nora." He turned his head to stare down at Victoria again, his hands gripping the metal side bar of the bed. "I'm dealing with enough right now as it is."

"I have no doubt of that." Sympathy filled Nora's voice as she moved forward and rubbed her hand on his back before she went up on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. "I need to get to the shop and deal with the cleanup and the insurance people."

Nick nodded his head as she walked toward the door. Not once had his sister even suggested he should be at the shop and not the hospital. Somehow, like his uncle, she understood he needed to be here.

"Anna, thank you."

"What did you call me?" Nora asked as she whirled around to face him. There was an odd expression on her face, and he shook his head.

"What?"

"You called me, Anna."

"No, I didn't," he said with a frown as he struggled to grasp the fact that Nora might be correct. He was so damned tired he couldn't remember much of anything at the moment. He closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers. "If I did, I'm sorry. I'm tired. One of the nurses must be called Anna."

"I'll see you later," his sister said quietly. "If you're going to insist on staying here, open up that recliner and try to get some sleep."

Nick opened his eyes and met his sister's penetrating gaze. She smiled slightly then walked out of the room leaving him to contemplate the fact that he'd used an unusual endearment with Victoria, and in all likelihood he'd called his sister by another name. He slowly returned to the recliner trying desperately to understand what was happening to him. As he sank down into the vinyl-covered chair and closed his eyes, Nick knew he was stumbling across a landscape he'd always brushed aside as being unrealistic. Now, he was no longer certain of anything, except the fact that the only thing in his life that mattered was Victoria.

Chapter 7.

October 1897 "Fuck," Nicholas muttered as he limped through the connecting corridor that ran between his room and Vickie-no, Victoria's. She'd been vehemently insistent that he call her Victoria. He liked the sound of it. Instantly, his brain shouted at him for being a fool to be taken in by the woman's performance. An almost flawless one. His wife had always exceled at small dramas, but this...this was something so beyond the bounds of anything she'd ever done. Nicholas threw open his bedroom door then slammed it behind him.

Frustrated, he rubbed the back of his neck as he glared at the closed door. The vulnerability she'd displayed only a moment ago had shaken him more than he cared to admit. He'd told her she'd fainted, but that was a half-truth. Her shallow breathing had become almost non-existent as he'd taken Victoria's limp form from Molly's shaky grasp. Not even his light pats to her cheeks had stirred her out of her almost death-like state.

Perhaps the most disturbing thing of all was the way her face had contorted with pain as she'd regained consciousness and taken that deep breath of air into her lungs. At that moment, he'd come close to believing she really wasn't his wife, and the fear she might die in his arms had filled him with emotions he didn't understand.