Pride and Stubbornness

At his feet was a single, shiny black high heel.

With a smile, he picked it up and went back inside.

***

It had been a horrible evening.

First she had to face off against Jabba the Waldorf, and then she accused Darcy Rochester of something he probably wasn't guilty of, and to top it all off she'd lost her goddamn shoe!

She'd seen the hurt in his eyes at her accusation and it made Aurora feel horrible.

She had to apologize; there was no getting around it, but she wasn't the type to do so easily. She tried sleeping, but tossed and turned for over an hour. Aurora tried again, hearing the rain start, listening to each drop in the hope that the rhythm would put her to sleep before she finally let out an exasperated scream and got out of bed.

She showered quickly, scrubbing her hair with a ferocity most people used to clean pans, and pulled on a bra, tank top, and jeans. She slipped on a pair of running shoes, glossed her lips, and headed into the pouring rain toward her Miata. She knew exactly where she was going.

She knew it was rude to drop in on him at two in the morning, but she couldn't let the guilt keep her awake any longer. As she drove in to one of the wealthiest neighborhoods in the city, Aurora took a deep breath. She'd be facing a man none too pleased at being pulled out of bed, but she'd made her decision and was sticking to it.

The neighborhood was dark, as though the rain had caused a power failure. She had difficulty navigating but Aurora managed to make it into Rochester's driveway unscathed. She paused as she turned off her car and ran her fingers through her damp hair. With a deep breath, she got out of the car.

Around her, rain fell in torrents. By the time she reached the doorstep of Rochester House, every attempt she'd made at her appearance had been washed away. To her surprise the door opened almost immediately, and she couldn't help gasping at what she saw.

There Darcy stood, in jeans, a bathrobe, and white shirt hanging open, revealing his gorgeous chest. His brown hair was tousled; he held a brass candlestick in his free hand, the flame illuminating his handsome features. Once again he looked like the textbook romantic hero, and Aurora couldn't help but laugh.

"I hope you didn't come all this way to laugh at me," he said dryly.

Aurora took a calming breath, and shook her head. "I came to apologize. May I come in?"

Darcy didn't answer, he simply stepped back, allowing her entry. She stepped into the lavish foyer and winced as her rain soaked shoes squished beneath her. With a shy smile, she toed out of them.

"What's with the candlestick?" she asked him.

"Power failure," he replied.

"You don't have a generator?"

"We've been having some trouble with it lately so I'm dealing with it the old fashioned way. You're soaking."

"Yeah."

"I've got a fire going in the living room. Why don't we go there so you can warm up?" he suggested, leading her to a living room with plush leather couches and thick Persian rugs. Facing the sofa was a massive fire place. The house, she realized with an amused sense of irony, looked like a castle, inside and out. She was warming herself in front of the fire when Darcy nudged her back. He was holding two snifters of brandy.

"That's not necessary . . . " she began.

"You're shivering. Please . . . for my sake?"

Aurora took the glass and sipped it slowly; looking into those stormy green eyes with all the courage she could muster. "You're being too nice to me, Rochester. You stood up for me and instead of thanking you I accused you of ulterior motives. It was unfair of me, and I'm sorry."

She looked so beautiful, so miserable, standing in front of him with that apology in her eyes. He wanted to kiss her, strip the wet clothes from her body and warm her with his own, but he didn't. He simply nodded.

"Apology accepted . . . but now I have to make a confession," he said, pleased to see her eyes widen. Darcy had seen that hungry look on her face when he'd opened the door. He'd seen the longing in her eyes when he defended her.

She was his. She just didn't know it yet.

"I spoke with my sister after you left and she revealed the details of your conversation. Judging by what she told me and your hesitation where I'm concerned, I'm going to take a few guesses and you can tell me if I'm wrong, ok?"

Aurora nodded dumbly.

"You met a man of considerable wealth and stature. You fell in love, and planned to get married. His parents found out and started hurling racial and financial slurs at you. They picked on your appearance, your manners, and your professional integrity and threatened to cut him off if he married you. He dumped you and it's made you bitter where people with money are concerned. Am I right?"

She nodded again.

"You've made similar assumptions about me, and as a result, have avoided me like the plague."

"I said I was sorry," she said with a frown.

"And I accepted your apology. Nonetheless, there are a few things you should know. My parents are dead, and even if they were alive they wouldn't care who I married as long I was happy. I am the head of my family, and who I see is my own Goddamn business, understand?"

She didn't like his tone of voice, but she nodded slowly. With a shaking hand she brought the glass to her lips and took a healthy gulp.

"You've been snapping at me since the moment we've met, assuming I'm something I'm not. Despite all this, I like you Aurora, so here's what's going to happen: I'm going kiss you, what happens next is entirely up to you."

He was in front her so swiftly Aurora had no time to respond. His lips were on hers, prying them apart in a kiss so intense, so hungry, all she could do was suck in a breath. The snifter fell from her hands, and with arms as limp as spaghetti, she raised them, resting her hands on his chest. The feel of his muscles, the crisp hair, the texture and scent of his skin had her reaching under his shirt, moaning her approval. Darcy's hands reached up to her jaw and with firm hands he pulled their faces apart.

"This isn't right," he said.

"What the hell are you talking about?" she demanded, aroused beyond reason "I want you, you want me. What's more right than that?" she asked, breathing heavily. Darcy stared at her for a second, and then with a look of determination he scooped her into his arms and made his way toward the staircase.

"What are you doing?" she demanded.

"Carrying you to my bed. You're not afraid of a little romance, are you?"

Aurora tensed opened her mouth to answer but he sealed her lips with a kiss. Unlike his first assault, this one was slow and sweet, sucking every thought from her head as he carried her effortlessly up the stairs. When he broke the kiss, she looked around. They were in his room where a single candle burned, illuminating the massive four poster bed.

When he set her on her feet, Aurora moved to undress him, but only got as far as his shirt and bathrobe before he kissed her again. Lost in the scent, the taste, and the feel of him, she didn't notice her jeans hit the floor, and only when he broke the kiss did she realize that her shirt and jacket were gone. His fingers slid lightly up her thigh, and as Aurora gasped and bit Darcy's neck, her bra hit the floor. The world dipped and she was on her back, naked, in Darcy Rochester's bed. She wondered for a moment how she got there, and then Darcy touched her and she couldn't think at all.

"You are so lovely," he said softly, cupping her breasts in his hands. Aurora moaned in response, arching her back when he rubbed his thumbs lightly against her nipples. She writhed, wanting more, but Darcy had already moved his hands. They slid over her tensed stomach, down her thighs, his calluses teasing the back of her knees.

All the while he kissed her deeply, caressed her neck and collarbone with his lips and teeth, reveling in her hunger, and the frenzied moves of her hands over his body. Aurora responded to his every touch, his every caress, and though she moaned for more, he held back, wanting her to feel an inkling of what he felt for her. He never dreamed he'd have her in his house, in his bed so swiftly, but as far as he was concerned she was never leaving.

"Touch me," she begged at last.

Painfully hard, he slid three fingers inside her and watched her scream as she came. Her nails raked his back as her hips rocked frantically against him, but Darcy ignored the pain. Unable to hold back any longer, he lifted one of her legs, resting her ankle on his shoulder, and, kneeling above her, he slid slowly, deeply inside her.

"Oh God!" she cursed, arching her back and tightening around him, "fuck me!"

"I will," Darcy said, "but you have to look at me when I do it. Open your eyes."

Aurora's eyes wouldn't open. In response, Darcy made one shallow thrust, his muscles tensing against the pleasure.

"Open your eyes," he repeated, but once again, Aurora silently refused. He rubbed his fingertip against her clit, and the contact had her stifling a scream.

"Look at me," he ordered.

Aurora bit her lip as he made another shallow thrust, but she finally opened her eyes. Darcy smiled slightly in satisfaction and kneeling above her, his eyes locked to hers, his hand on her knee, he began to move. Beneath him, Aurora arched her back, gasping as her muscles tightened around him with every thrust. She moved like a woman possessed, and Darcy gritted his teeth, intending to make the pleasure last.

She felt so right around him, so hot, so wet, so tight, moving with him as though they'd made love hundreds of times before. Her eyes were clouded with her arousal, but as she came for the second time that evening, her expression changed, as though she suddenly read something other than excitement in his eyes. Her expression became tender, almost hopeful, and when she screamed her pleasure, there were tears in her eyes. Those tears were his undoing and Darcy moved immediately to kiss them away. As her lips parted beneath his, she tightened around him, screaming, and her legs locked around his hips. The feel of all that strength wrapped around him, the sound of her screams, was too much.

"I love you, Aurora," he said, and with a hoarse cry, he emptied himself into her.

***

How in the hell, Aurora wondered, did she get here?

She was in Darcy's bed, naked, her muscles lax from the most mind blowing sex she'd ever had, and all she could think about was how to get out of there. Then she looked at Darcy, sleeping comfortably on his back, his face illuminated by the light of the dying candle, and all she could think about was climbing on top of him and doing it all over again. This was crazy! She barely knew him; she wasn't even sure she liked the guy, and yet she'd been totally and utterly seduced.

This wasn't good. Aurora needed some clarity, and fast.

She pulled on her underwear, bra, and jeans and watched the rise and fall of his chest. His hair was tousled, his face serene. Darcy wasn't a total stranger to her. She knew he was fiercely loyal to his friends, and had thrown himself between her and the most judgmental people on the planet. He was smart, honest, and considerate, with the kind of dry wit that allowed him to insult with a finesse she admired. He could suck the blood from her head with a kiss, and, she realized with shocking clarity, that aloofness she'd initially pegged as disdain was actually shyness. Darcy was shy, but unlike Nick, who made no pretense of it, the man sleeping before her hid it behind an air of cold derision . . . and then Aurora realized something else.

Darcy said he loved her, and he'd meant it; she'd seen it in his eyes. The wave of panic the memory caused had Aurora bolting for the door.

She had her hand on the bedroom doorknob when something on his dresser caught her eye.

It was a shiny black heel.

"Do you remember the story of Cinderella?" Darcy asked from behind her. He was out of bed, dressed in jeans, the hurt in his eyes causing a painful lump in her throat.

"Yes."

"The prince falls in love at the first sight of her; the woman destined to be his. She is beautiful, and sad, and so doubtful of her own worth that the moment anyone would question her right to be at that ball, she flees"

Aurora's chest tightened painfully, whether it was from fear or hope she wasn't sure.

"What she doesn't seem to realize is that she's better than all of them, and the prince knows it the instant he sees her. He holds on to her shoe because he doesn't know if he'll ever see her again. In order for her to come forward to try on the slipper, she has to see what he sees and understand that what he feels for her is real."

"We barely know each other," she said, her voice shakier than she would have liked.

"Don't tell me you don't believe in love in love at first sight."

"I don't," she said, slowly. Darcy was very close now; so close she could smell him, and in spite of herself, Aurora's mouth watered.

"Liar."

"Back off!" Aurora said desperately, trying her damndest to think clearly.

"I have no intention of backing off. I love you Aurora and you can argue with me until you're blue in the face, but you love me too. It's written all over your face, so you might as well stuff whatever argument you were planning on making. You're not getting rid of me, so take your clothes off and get back in my bed!"

Aurora's eyes widened and Darcy suspected that his audacity would earn him a slap in the face. His heart hammered in his chest. He had everything riding on this, and with a deep breath, he braced himself for a punch in the face and a heavy dose of heartbreak. With a look of determination, Aurora moved toward him, her eyes narrowed to slits; for every step she took, he took one step back, until his knees hit the foot of the bed. One move of Aurora's leg and he was on his ass on the bed, with her jumping on top of him. He felt a moment's panic before he got a good look at her face.

She was laughing.

"Damn I like you!" she laughed, her legs pinning both his arms. Leaning forward, she pressed her grinning mouth to his.

Darcy smiled.

"So tell me, you want a big wedding or something small?" he asked.

Aurora threw up her hands.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves, ok Darcy. I'm more concerned with the here and the now . . . and for now, I'm on top."

For the first time since they'd met, Darcy laughed. It looked like they'd be living happily ever after . . . and he wouldn't have it any other way.