G.o.d, but it seemed a lifetime! She longed to cast herself against him and forget the tumult that raged in both their hearts, forget everything but the warm strength of his arms tight around her back.

But he would not welcome it. For while her heart gladdened at the sight of him, she couldn't say the same for Justin. He regarded her, the cast of his jaw was locked tight, his features stony. His lips were set in a thin, straight line.

"I suspect I have my brother to thank for you being here, don't I?"

His acid greeting was not what she'd hoped for. It took every ounce of hope and courage she possessed to meet his eyes. "Sebastian told me where you were," she said quietly, "but I came on my own. And he has only your best interests at heart, you know."

Justin's eyes were a stormy green. She thought he might argue, but he said nothing.

"Do you think I might come in?" She ventured the question tentatively, and for one treacherous moment she had the terrifying sensation he might refuse.

Finally he stepped aside. Arabella set her reticule on a table in the entrance hall and followed him into a large drawing room to the left.

She turned in a slow circle. "Why didn't you tell me you bought this house?" A faint smile curved her lips. "Justin, I adore it! I've never seen anything quite so beautiful - "

"I'm selling it," he interrupted curtly.

She looked at him sharply. Her heart began to pound so hard her chest actually hurt. "Why?"

"Because I should never have bought it, that's why. I only came to clarify a few matters with the estate manager."

Arabella shook her head. "Please don't be so hasty. Buying this estate*that's what you were going to tell me the other afternoon, wasn't it?"

His eyes flickered. "It doesn't matter."

Arabella felt like she was bleeding inside. He was so distant, so remote. "It does matter. Please,Justin," she blurted, "can we talk?""What more is there to say?""I should think a great deal.""I should think not."He turned his back on her and strode to the window. "You'll forgive me if I don't see you out."

His manner was coolly defensive. Arabella stared at him, stung. He was so stubborn. So arrogant and prideful. My G.o.d, he wanted her gone! A wave of despair washed over her, but she battled it back.

"If you're trying to drive me away, you're going to have to do better than

that," she said, her tone very low. "For I won't leave. Not until you tell me outright that*that you don't want me as your wife."

In the heartbeat before her voice wobbled traitorously, her gaze cleaved to his.

Time hung never-ending. Something splintered across his features. He raised his eyes to the ceiling, the cords of his neck standing out in stark relief.

Without a word, he turned his back on her. He strode across the floor to the window and stood staring

out, his arms crossed over his chest.

But in the heartbeat before he swung away, she glimpsed something in his eyes, something that made her bite back a cry.

She knew it for certain when she heard his voice, low and half-strangled.

"Go, Arabella. Just go and leave me be!"

Her heart constricted. She stood rooted to the spot. Sebastian's story came back full force. She

remembered the little boy who wouldn't cry, no matter how much he hurt. And for that mind-splitting instant, she saw clear inside. She saw him as he was now - stripped of his pride, raw and naked and still so vulnerable.

And she knew then why Sebastian had come to her. Don't send him back into the shadows, Sebastian had pleaded.And she couldn't. She wouldn't. Something came over her then. The need to save himfrom himself. She could do it - she could!

Everything broke inside her. Slipping her arms around his waist, she laid her cheek on his shirt. His entire

body went taut, but he didn't break from her hold, as she feared he would.

"You can't say it, can you?" she whispered unsteadily. "If you could, you would."

His hands wound around her wrists. "Arabella -"

Hot tears spilled unchecked from her cheeks, seeping through the thin cloth of his shirt. "I'm sorry I hurt you, Justin. I'm so sorry."

Justin froze, then twisted around to face her. He peered down into her tortured eyes.

Once she'd started, she couldn't seem to stop. "We've both been such fools! I was wrong to push you away. I should have listened! You said you were different, that you weren't the same man who made that silly wager with Gideon. And I know it now. It's not too late for us, it's not! You won't be rid of me so easily. And I won't leave you again, Justin, no matter what you say. No matter what you do. And I won't let you leave me, either."

"Arabella, do you have any idea what you're saying?"

Arabella sagged against him, weeping openly. "Yes. Yes!"

His arms stole around her trembling form. "Don't cry," he said raggedly. "Sweet Jesus, please don't cry." He smoothed the cloud of her hair. "I love you, sweetheart. I love you."

"And I love you," she cried. "I do!"

He groaned. "You shouldn't-"

"Don't say that! Don't even think it!" Her eyes found his. "You believe you're unworthy of love, but you're not. Oh, don't you see? I love you for what you are, not in spite of what you are. I love you quite madly. And I always will."

He stared at her as if he still couldn't believe it. "Are you quite certain?"

Her eyes darkened. "Yes. Oh, yes." Holding her breath, she laid her fingers against the raspy plane of his cheek.

He didn't retreat, but let her fingers wander where they would - the blade of his nose, the contours of his cheekbones, the sculpted beauty of his lips. Their eyes caught. Trapping her fingers beneath his, he turned his mouth into her palm and kissed it.

Arabella wept once more, but this time she was smiling through her tears. Groaning, he engulfed her in his arms. With lips that were incredibly tender, he kissed away her tears, their hearts streaming together.

Finally he drew back, resting his forehead against hers. "Shall I show you our new home?"

With her slender fingers tucked into his elbow, he showed her through the house. They ended up back in the drawing room. An indulgent smile curling his lips, Justin watched as she peered through the windows, exclaiming delightedly.

"Oh, but I should love to have a little cottage garden there beyond that wonderful little tree. I'd grow primroses and columbine."

A smile grazed his lips. "Actually, that tree was what led me to buy this place. I kept seeing you as a girl - a little monkey clambering through the branches."

Arabella tried to withhold an answering smile of her own and failed. "Well," she murmured, "I daresay this will be the perfect place to raise our family."

"I quite agree." He pulled her into his embrace.

Her fingertips planted lightly on his chest, she looked up at him, suddenly serious. "Justin, do you hear what I'm saying? It's the perfect place to raise a family. Our family."

For an instant his brow furrowed. Then his gaze slid down her form. "What," he said blankly, "do you mean that you*that we*"

"It's too soon to be certain," she said hurriedly, blushing fiercely. "But I'm never, ever late," she stressed. "And it's been over a week now." She took a deep breath. "Do you mind the idea of being a father so soon after becoming a husband?"

His reply was not long in coming. "Not at all," he said smoothly. "In fact, if that is not already the case, I believe we should studiously apply ourselves to the possibility."

Her eyes widened, as blue as heaven. Justin laughed and sealed her lips in a binding kiss. "However," he murmured dryly when at last he raised his head, "I do have just one question."

"And what might that be?"

He nodded toward the oak tree in front of the window. "You won't teach our daughter to hang upside down from that tree, will you?"

And he gave her that smile that sent all the ladies to swooning*especially her. Arabella laughed and twined her arms around his neck. Oh, how she did love him!

Epilogue.

Seven years later.

Four-year-old Grayson Sebastian Sterling tugged at his mother's skirts. Arabella smiled down into eyes the color of a warm summer sky. "Yes, sweetings?"

Those eyes gleamed impishly. "Mama," he said with a giggle, "I see Lizzie's drawers." A chubby finger pointed outside.

Arabella turned and looked through the drawing room window.

Upended on the branch nearest the ground, her daughter Lizzie grinned at her mother, then stuck out her tongue at her brother.

Arabella's shriek woke the baby sleeping blissfully against her shoulder. "Justin, she's at it again! Oh, what are we going to do with her? How on earth does she manage to reach that branch?"

Justin glanced up from the newspaper and a.s.sessed the situation. "I daresay it has something to do with her pony trotting away minus his rider."

A minute later, she watched Justin stride outside. Lizzie grabbed the branch and wheeled herself upright. She tried to scramble away, but quick as she was, her father was quicker. Strong arms reached up and plucked their firstborn from her precarious perch.

Five minutes later, the three little ones herded into the care of their nurse, Arabella collapsed on the sofa.

"Oh, Lord," Arabella wailed, "I just know she'll do that tomorrow after our guests arrive from London! The Dowager d.u.c.h.ess of Carrington will be horrified! Oh, but that girl's outrageous antics will make my heart fail yet!"

Justin quirked a brow. "Sweetheart," he drawled, "the dowager d.u.c.h.ess will not care a whit. Besides, you may as well get used to it - our Lizzie is destined to be the talk of the ton just like you."

"You're not helping matters any," Arabella groused. "Nor does it help when Mama and Papa laugh at her frolics. It only spurs her on more."

Justin chuckled and pulled his wife into his arms. His head ducked down and he kissed her, a long, lingering kiss of sweetness that made a tremor of emotion rush through him. Life was good, he decided. No more did he deem himself worthless or undeserving. No more nightmares haunted his dreams. Now his dreams were only of the future, a future he cherished, the way he cherished every moment of life with Arabella. For it was she who had cleansed his soul of guilt, who made each day brighter than the last.

Several hours later, the two of them began the rounds in the nursery, kissing each of their children good night, a ritual repeated each night without fail.

Elise - or Lizzie, as she was fondly called - was still bouncing in her bed when they entered her room. Six years old, she had inherited the same flame-red curls as her mother and grandfather, but her eyes sparkled like twin emeralds; they were the same crystalline green as Justin's.

Gray lay sleeping soundly. Arabella bent and kissed his cheek, while Justin's long fingers tousled silky black hair as dark as his own.

Nestled in her cradle was Tessa, who rather resembled her Aunt Julianna, with fine, dainty features and chestnut hair. Both her parents laughed at the way Tessa sneaked her thumb into her mouth and smacked, wiggling her little b.u.m high in the air before settling over on her side.

Outside in the hall, Arabella slipped her arm through her husband's, resting her head against his shoulder. "We did make the most beautiful children, didn't we?"

"That we did," he agreed.

With their three children snug in their beds, they sought their own. Arabella nestled against his length.

With the tips of his fingers, he traced the outline of her lips. "Why are you smiling?"

"What's wrong with that?"

He raised a brow. "Nothing. Except that you're looking rather secretive."

Arabella walked her fingertips up his naked chest. "Ah, but you know all my secrets, remember?"

"Do I?"

"Yes, well, all but one," she teased.