The Bride Wore Red At The Ladies Club: Arabella's Story

Acting on a hunch, he headed out along the drive towards the woods they had rode up to when he took her out on the bike. The dell. The magical dell she loved so much. If she was anywhere on the estate, she'd be there.

Relief flooded him when he saw that he was right. He stood stock still, watching her, drinking her in. She was sitting on the bank above the stream, swishing the water with her Wellington boots. She looked thoughtful, but not defeated. Bella was never defeated. What was she plotting now, he wondered. His heart lifted when she turned to look at him and her face lit up.

Lifted? His heart bolted from his chest and flew to her.

"Jack!" Lurching to her feet, she slipped and fell into the stream.

"Bella!"

He was at her side in an instant and, dragging her soaking wet into his arms, he hugged her hard. Every inch of her was so wonderfully familiar. She had a body to die for—which he was more than ready to do, if she gave the word.

"What are you doing here?" she demanded, sorting herself out. "I can't believe I just fell into the stream." Her mouth quirked as they stood confronting each other—"I must look a mess. Huh?"

He held her turbulent gaze steadily. She still wasn't sure of him. Even when he said, "You look beautiful to me," she just hummed.

"When did you become a romantic?" she demanded at last.

"When I fell in love with a redhead."

Her expression changed—became serious, and faintly hostile. "So, what's your explanation for what happened in Paris?"

"You wouldn't take my calls, which is why I'm here." He shrugged. "That's all I know."

"So, why are you here, Jack?"

"For this—" Dragging her into his arms, he kissed her. It was fire on fire.

She fought him. He had expected that. But then she gave a little, and then a little more.

"You are impossible!" she raged, thrusting her hands flat against his chest.

"Shall I let you go?"

"Yes!" she flashed.

"Shall I walk away?"

"Do whatever the hell you want to do, Jack! You always do." She turned her back on him.

"What were you thinking about when you were sitting on this bank?"

She turned back to face him then, and said in a quiet, clear voice. "I was planning how to raise enough money to save the house you want to steal from me."

"I want what?"

"Don't act dumb, Jack. It doesn't suit you. I spoke to your lawyer when we were in Paris. She asked me to tell you that she had Harold's signature, and now you had to get mine. Oops. Seems I forgot to tell you. Was that why you took me away, Jack? Was it just to seduce me into signing the contract?"

"Of course not."

"Really?" she demanded skeptically. "So you didn't think you could buy me with a dress and one night of amazing sex?"

He gave her a look. "If I thought you were that easy I'd have made love to you before—but thanks for the compliment…I think. As for the dress? You're more than welcome. You deserve it more than anyone I know."

"You're doing it again," she protested.

"Doing what again?"

"I think you'd better go."