"Very good, miss."

A moment later, Justin strolled in. He was clad in riding clothes, black boots that hugged his calves, buff leather breeches that clung to his powerful physique like a second skin.

"I hope you don't mind my calling on you unannounced."

"Not at all," she murmured. She indicated the striped silk damask chair across from her. "Please sit."

"I thought we should see each other at least once before tomorrow." He stripped off his riding gloves as he spoke, laying them on the rosewood table.

Nervous awareness collected inside her. His hands, she noticed vaguely, were like the rest of him: long, lean, elegant, yet devastatingly masculine. Her face began to heat. Her mind veered in a direction and she had no hope of restraining it. What, she wondered crazily, would the rest of him be like, beneath the civilized veneer of clothing? He was surprisingly strong. That night at Thurston Hall when he'd carried her to her room, she'd been amazed at how easily he lifted her*The memory displayed a surprising tendency to linger. She'd found herself thinking of it at the most unexpected times.

"Arabella?"

Her gaze jerked back to his face. "Yes?" Her voice was thin and thready.

He was watching her steadily. "I asked if you were ready for the wedding tomorrow."

Arabella didn't answer. She couldn't. It seemed her tongue was suddenly an unwieldy instrument she hadn't learned to master. Her mind was still all awhirl. By this time tomorrow, she and Justin would be husband and wife. She would be his wife. His wife. Oh, G.o.d, it would be heaven*No, it would be h.e.l.l. Wife or no, every woman would still want him. Worse, he would want every woman*

"Yes*No. I - I don't know what I mean." Lord, she was an idiot. "It's all so unreal. So unexpected." Her tone was unsteady. She gathered every ounce of her courage and met his gaze. "Why?" she asked baldly. "Why are you doing this? Why did you agree to marry me?"

A brow arched. "Agree?" he said mildly. "Arabella, it may have escaped your notice, but it was my idea, not your uncle's, that we wed."

How could he be so calm, so matter-of-fact, when she felt as if she were flying apart inside?

"I should have thought you would bolt at the thought of marriage!" she blurted.

He gave her a long, slow look. Carefully he said, "I am many things, Arabella, but I am not a coward."

She drew a deep, almost painful breath. "How did it come to this?" she asked, the pitch of her voice almost a whisper. "We - we don't suit. You know it as well as I. And I know you had no intentions of marrying anyone, let alone me."

Justin tensed. His tone was almost dangerously low. "Why do you say that?"

"You're the most notorious rake in London. Everyone knows that rakes do everything they can to avoid being caught in the parson's mousetrap."

Justin leaned back. It took supreme effort of will to prevent his jaw from tightening. My G.o.d, could she make it any more plain that she had no desire to wed him? Perhaps this was justice, he decided blackly, for his many sins.

"You are a lady, Arabella. The fact that in the past I've chosen to involve myself with women who were not always so proper has no bearing on our circ.u.mstances. I dishonored you and - "

"But you didn't dishonor me, not really! We - we simply kissed."

"We did more than that. I touched your -"

Her face flamed. "Must you remind me?"

"My conduct was hardly that of a gentleman toward a lady. We were caught in a compromising situation, and I will not allow it to ruin you. I have more respect for you than that."

His tone was curt. Arabella blinked. She hadn't thought he had any respect for anything or anyone. Well, that wasn't quite right. He respected his brother, and his sister-in-law, or at least she thought he did*For the first time, she realized there was much she had always a.s.sumed about this man.

And much she didn't know. Whether that was bad or good remained to be seen.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "I didn't mean to insult you."

His expression told her he wasn't so sure.

She floundered. "I just*I don't want you to hate me, Justin. I don't want you to resent me."

His expression underwent a lightning transformation. Before she knew what he was about, he was beside her on the settee and had seized both her hands in his. "How odd that you should say that. Because that's the very thing I was going to say to you." He gave a lopsided smile. "Indeed, that's the real reason I stopped by."

The feel of his hands around hers was oddly rea.s.suring. Their gazes met, and something else, too. She didn't know precisely what it was, but it made her heart stumble and her pulse hasten.

But the next instant she sighed wistfully. "I just wish my mother and father could be here. I doubt the letter has even reached them by now."

He squeezed her fingers. "I know. And for that I'm sorry. But your uncle will brook no delays. He'll have my head if we wait. Besides* I think I prefer it this way."

Arabella frowned. "Why?" Oh, no doubt he feared that if they waited, he would reconsider. And then where would she be?

A smile began to dally about his lips. "It's certainly easier to simply marry you than court you. Now, at least, I won't have to fend off the horde of admirers surrounding you at every event."

She wrinkled her nose. "This is the first time you've even called on me," she said wryly.

"And after tomorrow, there'll be no need. You'll be right in my own house whenever I want you."

Whenever I want you. Precisely what he meant by that, Arabella wasn't certain. Nor, she decided shakily, was she prepared to speculate.

"I don't even know where you live," she murmured.

"I have a townhouse on Berkeley Square. I think you'll find it quite charming." Out in the foyer, the longcase clock chimed the hour. "As much as I'd love to stay and chat, I must go. I've a business appointment soon."

Arabella's brows shot high. "You? A business appointment?"

He chuckled at her doubtful expression. "Actually, I've been quite successful. My most recent acquisition is a bank in Scotland. So you see, you're marrying a stodgily respectable gentleman after all."

Stodgy? That was the last word on earth she would use to describe Justin Sterling. Her lips quirked. "A pity," she replied mildly, "for here I was, looking forward to taming a scoundrel!"

"Oh, there's plenty of that left in me," came his brash rejoinder. The wholly wicked light that appeared in his eyes should have served as warning. She should have known better than to challenge a man like him! Before she knew it, strong arms swept around her and dragged her onto his lap. One hand anch.o.r.ed firmly around her waist, and with the other he captured her chin. Her lips parted in sweet surprise as his mouth closed over hers. He proceeded to kiss her mouth with a thoroughness that made the world spin and drove the very air from her lungs.

Her head was still whirling when he rose and set her on her feet, so much so that she had to clutch at his forearms for support.

He righted her, his hands large and warm on her waist. "All right now?"

Arabella nodded and reluctantly opened her eyes.

To her shock, his easygoing smile had vanished. In its stead was an expression so intense, so fierce, she caught her breath. "What is it?"

"I was just thinking."

"What?"

His gaze scoured her features, one by one, until at last it came to rest on her lips. "The next time I kiss you, you'll be my wife."

Fifteen.

The ceremony began at precisely three o'clock the next afternoon at her aunt and uncle's townhouse. Other than Georgiana, who was her maid of honor, and Georgiana's parents, those present were limited to family - Sebastian, Devon, Julianna, the twins, Arabella's aunt, her cousins and their respective families. The only exception was the Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Carrington. Sebastian stood as Justin's best man. Reverend Lynch, who had been a friend of her father's for many years and whom Arabella had known since childhood, presided.

She entered the drawing room on Uncle Joseph's arm. Her knees were quaking so badly she marveled that she could even walk. Her eyes widened when they paused at the threshold. Aunt Grace had decorated the room with dozens and dozens of fragrant red and white roses.

Yet in the very next heartbeat, her eyes strayed inevitably to Justin, looking very tall, very dark, splendidly attired in dark chocolate that made his light eyes blaze like emeralds. His carriage was proudly erect, but his expression was unreadable. He neither smiled nor frowned. His demeanor was solemnly intent, and she felt herself suddenly plunged into turmoil. They weren't even wed*did he regret it already?

To spend a lifetime joined to someone who would never love her*oh, G.o.d, how could she do it? she thought desperately. How could she bear it? This was her wedding day. Her wedding day. From the time she'd been old enough to entertain the notion of her own marriage, she had always been so certain that should this day come to pa.s.s, she would be hopelessly, helplessly in love with her husband*and he with her. But this wasn't the love match she'd wanted. Nothing had happened as it should have, and here she stood, mere inches away from the man who would be her husband for the rest of her days, teetering on the brink of the rest of her life*

A week ago she'd have sworn she most certainly did not love Justin Sterling, that she could never love a man such as he. But all at once she wasn't so certain*Did she love him? Did she? A hand seemed to close about her heart and squeeze. Within her churned a ma.s.s of such quivering, jumbling emotions that in all truth, she wasn't certain she knew up from down, right from left, the moon from the stars.

Yet one thing stood out above all. The thought that Justin might never love her caused a crushing pain in her chest. It hurt as nothing in the world ever had*as nothing ever would.

She had the most hysterical desire to turn and run screaming from the house.

Instead, three steps closed the distance between her and Justin. Three small steps and her life would be forever changed. They were at once the hardest - and the easiest - she'd ever taken.

Reverend Lynch cleared his throat. "Dearly beloved," he intoned, "we are gathered here together in the sight of G.o.d*"

The rest of the ceremony pa.s.sed in a blur. The next thing she knew, Reverend Lynch had turned to Justin.

"Wilt thou have this woman as thy wedded wife, to live together after G.o.d's ordinance, in the holy estate of matrimony? Wilt thou love her, comfort her, honor and keep her, in sickness and in health, and forsaking all others keep thee only unto her as long as ye both shall live?"

"I will."

Quiet as his tone was, beneath was a note of such gravity, such clear, unfaltering conviction that Arabella was momentarily stunned. Reverend Lynch was speaking again, but she scarcely heard. Why, if one

were not familiar with both the man and his reputation, it would be only too easy to believe he meant every word!

Reverend Lynch had paused.

Almost belatedly it occurred to her it was her turn. Her hands began to shake. The small bouquet of

roses she held was quaking so that they were slipping and sliding against the silk of her gown*

The only sound in the room.

Arabella couldn't help it. Her gaze sped straight to Justin. He regarded her, one dark brow

c.o.c.ked arrogantly aslant, a glint in his emerald eyes, as if in a silent dare.

Her chin came up. "I will," she heard herself say all in a rush, then wondered madly if she sounded as tremulous and terrified and elated as she felt inside.

The next thing she knew, the reverend announced, "You may kiss the bride."

It was done.

Justin turned to her. Her mind recorded a fleeting impression of burning green eyes, and then hard arms

encircled her. His mouth captured hers in a kiss that stole her breath and her heart and made a thousand shivers play over her skin. Would it always be like this? she wondered achingly. She hoped so. She prayed so.

The world was still spinning when at last he lifted his mouth. She blinked up at him. "Oh, my," she whispered unthinkingly.

He threw back his head and laughed, the rogue, for all to see and hear!

Arabella promptly fixed him with what she hoped was a suitably admonishing frown.

He was undaunted. To her shock, he proceeded to kiss her again - and just as rousingly.

This time when she opened her eyes, it was to the sound of applause!

Arabella felt a fiery blush start at her neck and seep upward. "You are a scoundrel," she accused without heat.

He slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow. "Well, I did warn you, didn't I?"

A celebratory dinner followed. Uncle Joseph's stiff, formal manner toward Justin had thawed

considerably by the time the main course was served, and for that, Arabella was glad. But almost before she knew it, dinner was over and it was time to go.

Near the door, the family gathered around to wish them well. It was a wild scene. The twins were

squealing and darting everywhere, along with her cousins' little ones. There was much laughing