"No," Emma said earnestly, understanding completely. "I love him, as well. I could not love him more if I had carried him under my heart for nine months and borne him from my body. He is my treasure."

"Yes." There was a wealth of meaning in that small word.

"But he looks like you," she blurted as her mind circled these new and confusing thoughts. "He has dark hair."

"As did Delia's father," Anthony pointed out reasonably. "And he has his mother's blue eyes."

Emma stared at him. "I once believed all men were like my father. He won my mother with pretty promises but lived up to none of them. He refused to claim his own child."

"As did Smythe."

She was almost shocked by the revelation that Smythe had been Delia's lover. Almost. But she recalled the diary, the reference to L.S.-Leonard Smythe-and she was not surprised. Only saddened. Anthony sent her a look of understanding. "Delia went to him, told him of her pregnancy. He demanded that she allow him to terminate it." He paused, and then said so softly that she almost missed it, "She was afraid. Of him. Of me. Poor girl."

"She terminated your child and sought a lover's embrace. That is why you hated her. That is what turned your love to ashes."

"Yes."

She sucked in a breath, remembering the words he had spoken that long-ago night in the portrait gallery when he had told her of his love for Delia, a love that had turned to hate. "Do you hate her still?"

He opened his mouth, paused, and then his eyes, his beautiful green gold eyes widened in surprise. "No. I don't."

Oh, how her heart swelled at his denial.

"How did she die?"

Anthony swallowed, and Emma read his torment. "For seven years I have believed that I killed her on a dark and storm-tossed night, and now you have claimed otherwise, that Cookie did the deed. My conscience will take time to adjust."

The night of her arrival, the storm, Anthony's comments in the coach-memories teased Emma's thoughts. "Is that why you dislike the rain?"

"The rain. The stink of tallow. They make me think of the night she died." Anthony rested his head in his hands. "I found her at the bottom of the stairs, broken, twisted. She was near death. And for the hours that followed, each minute that sapped her strength and her life, she swore she had thrown herself to the bottom of the staircase. Swore she had done it in a fit of repentance and guilt." He made a low sound of self-derision. "And I believed her. Perhaps she believed it herself."

Rising, he paced restlessly across the room and back. "We will never know for certain. But the truth remains that I failed her. Failed her child."

Emma lurched upward, catching his wrist. "That is not true! You love Nicky. You are a wonderful father."

"Ah, but he is not the child I failed." His tone was heavy with secrets and regret. "She begged me to cut the child from her, to give it a chance for life. I could not. To do so would have surely consigned her to death. I know of no woman who has survived such a procedure. Yet, I knew that she would surely die if I did not do the deed. A craniotomy would have saved the mother. Slicing open Delia's belly would have saved the child. Coward that I was, I could not wield the blade, and so I did nothing. Nothing. The first child, a girl, was stillborn. Delia was wild with grief. She pleaded that I take the second child. Still, I did nothing. Only after she breathed her last breath did I open her and take Nicky from her. My cowardice, my inactivity killed Nicky's sister as surely as if I had done the deed with purposeful intent. And the baby's death, coupled with my refusal to save the child yet inside her, surely contributed to Delia's loss of strength."

"All these years you have blamed yourself for this? Anthony, you are a doctor. You do not govern the fates. You do not decide who lives and who dies. You must let this go." She gazed at him earnestly, willing him to finally forgive himself.

He closed his fingers about hers, drawing her hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to her palm. "So wise, Emma mine. I spent nights lost in despair, wishing I had answered her differently. All these years I have dreamed of death, and in my nightmares, Nicky does not survive."

Emma snaked her arms around him, holding him close. "You saved him, brought him forth into the world. You are no coward," she said, thinking of the way he had thrown himself into the conflagration in an attempt to save Cookie's life, and later, how he had faced his own demons to save Meg.

He brought his lips to hers, a warm, sweet kiss of hope and promise, and together they sank back into the softness of the bed. "You complete me, bring light to my darkness."

"Anthony," she breathed. Her heart swelled with love, and she opened to him, shifting closer to lie full against him, to feel the hard length of him.

Arching back, he watched her for a moment. There was something in his eyes, some emotion, and it was so strong and bright that she thought it would surely singe her with its intensity. It was neither pa.s.sion nor tenderness, though both were mirrored in his gaze. Something more. A reflection of her own heart.

"I love you, Anthony." She had told him this once before, and he had made no reply. Anxiety and trepidation iced her blood, but she forged on, her emotion so strong that she could do naught but share it with him. "I love you with all that I am, all that I will ever be."

He smiled, a glorious flash of white teeth, an expression of absolute joy.

"Then, Emma Parrish, I shall marry you."

She gasped, and the words hung between them. He would marry her?

"I am a bast-"

His fingers on her lips held back the words.

She pushed his hand aside. "Your stepmother-"

"Has no say in my life," he finished for her. "I will marry you, Emma mine." He paused, and then added, "If you will have me." An afterthought.

Her blood thrummed through her veins and her heart pounded in her breast, thunderous, so hard and fast she thought it would surely burst from the strain.

"If I will have you," Emma echoed, a tiny squeak of sound. "That is all you will say to me? Nothing more?"

He smiled, that perfect curving of his lips that made her heart melt. "You asked me earlier how I knew which way to go, which fork to follow...." And then the smile faded, his expression growing serious. "Emma mine, I but followed my heart and it led me straight to you."

Dear heaven. Had he said that? Truly said that...to her?

"Give me the words," she whispered. "All of them. I swear I will not betray them, betray you."

"I love you, Emma Parrish. Marry me. Be my wife. Make my house a home."

She smiled at his words. They were a beautiful gift that filled her with inestimable joy.

"Then, Anthony Craven, I shall marry you, and build a life with you, and share a home with you."

He grinned, leaned close to whisper against her lips, "Yes. You shall." And then he crushed her to him and kissed her deep and hungry. Her blood began to sing.

A sound caught her attention and she shifted her concentration to the door that led from her chamber to Nicky's. The child stood in the open doorway, rubbing his fist against one eye, while regarding her sleepily with the other.

"Can I kiss Miss Emma, too?" he asked, stumbling drowsily toward the bed. Then he stopped and looked around. "We're home! That's grand!"

With a laugh, Nicky launched himself at the bed. Anthony tightened one arm around Emma, even as he opened the other to catch his laughing son against him. Emma felt the movement of his chest as he chuckled softly.

"Yes, Nicky, we are home," she said, her heart near bursting with the immeasurable joy of living as she met Anthony's adoring gaze. "We have all finally found our way home."

-The End-.

PRAISE FOR HIS DARK KISS:.

"Riveting! A dark, steamy and twisted tale." -New York Times bestselling author Lisa Jackson.

"...deliciously gothic..."-Diana Tixier Herald, Booklist "...a beautifully written and compelling story and Eve Silver is fast becoming the new mistress of gothic romance."-bookloons.com.

"This one is a keeper..."-bellaonline.com "A dark enigmatic hero, a young governess, pa.s.sion, sensuality, mystery and murder: Silver gives the reader everything they want in a gothic reminiscent of Emily Bronte's Wuthering Heights and then adds an updated twist of her own to the suspenseful and chilling conclusion."-RT BookReviews.

Books by Eve Silver:.

Historicals:.

Dark Desires.

His Dark Kiss Dark Prince.

His Wicked Sins Seduced by a Stranger.

Paranormals:.

Demon's Kiss.

Demon's Hunger Sins of the Heart.

Sins of the Soul Sins of the Flesh Body of Sin.

Novellas:.

Sin's Daughter.

Trinity Blue.

Kiss of the Vampire in the anthology Nature of the Beast.

end.