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  She'd never dreamed of hearing Ethan say such a thing to her. Tears ran down her cheeks and she be­gan to sob.

  "Oh, for God's sake. . .!" He bent and picked her up in his arms, shaken by her reaction. "Arabella, don't," he whispered. His mouth covered hers, faintly tremulous as he savored the tear-wet softness of it, the kiss absolutely beyond his experience as he held her, rocking her in his arms. His head began to spin. Her good arm was around his neck, and she was kissing him back, moaning softly under the crush of his lips, trembling in his protective embrace.

  "Now, now, I'm all for the spirit of the thing, but let's not carry it to extremes," Coreen Hardeman murmured dryly.

  Ethan lifted his head and stared blankly at his mother. She was leaning against the wall, her gray eyes so smugly pleased that Ethan actually flushed.

  Chapter Eight

  Arabella was much more embarrassed than Ethan or his indomitable parent. She colored delicately and stiffened in Ethan's arms.

  "Uh, shouldn't you put me down?" Arabella asked.

  "Why?" Ethan murmured dryly. "It was just get­ting to the good part."

  "I thought it already had, from what Miriam said," Coreen replied, and then spoiled her disapproving-mother stance by bursting into laughter. "You two are heading straight for a fiery end, or so I'm told. Shameful behavior, and Arabella such an innocent." She raised an eyebrow at Ethan. "How could you, and other platitudes."

  Ethan grinned. "I had a lot of cooperation," he re­turned, with a wicked glance at Arabella.

  "Miriam said that, too," Coreen nodded.

  "You put me down, you corrupting influence!" Arabella muttered, struggling. "I knew you'd lead me astray if I wasn't careful."

  He set her gently on her feet. "Would you like to try again? I seem to remember finding you lying in ex­quisite repose on my bed. . .?" He glanced at Co­reen. "She said it was your idea, too."

  "Actually, it was," Coreen confessed. "I didn't know what else to do. I was absolutely certain that Miriam would make a play for you, and I had a fairly good idea why. I think she's pregnant."

  "So Arabella told me." He rubbed a hand over his broad chest, staring appreciatively at the younger of the two women. "We're getting married. Arabella doesn't know it yet, but you might go ahead and start making the arrangements and we'll get her to the al­tar before she has time to work it out."

  "Good idea," Coreen laughed delightedly. "Oh, Arabella, I couldn't be more pleased. You'll be the most wonderful daughter-in-law."

  "But. . ." Arabella began, looking from mother to son with dazed eyes.

  "She will at that," Ethan agreed. "I'll take her downtown tomorrow to buy a ring. What do you think about having the wedding at the Methodist church? Reverend Boland could perform the service."

  "Yes, he'll do nicely. And we can have the recep­tion at the Jacobsville Inn. It's big enough. I'll ask Shelby Ballenger if she'll help with the arrangements. She did the most beautiful job with our charity fash­ion show last month—amazing how well she manages her volunteer work and their two sons at the same time."

  "Do that," Ethan replied. "Now, how about the invitations?"

  "I don't think—" Arabella tried again.

  "That's a good idea. Don't," Ethan said approv­ingly. He folded his arms across his chest and turned back to his mother. "Can you handle the invita­tions?"

  "It's my wedding!" Arabella burst out. "Surely I can do something to help!"

  "Of course you can," Ethan agreed. "You can try on the wedding gown. Take her to the best store in Houston," he told his mother, "and find the most expensive gown they have. Don't let her get away with something ordinary."

  "I won't," Coreen promised. "A white wedding," she sighed. "I never thought I'd live to see you hap­pily married, Ethan."

  He was watching Arabella with an odd kind of ten­derness. "Neither did I. Not like this," he said hus­kily, and his eyes blazed.

  But it's only to get Miriam out of his life for good, Arabella wanted to wail. He doesn't love me, he wants me. I make him whole again physically. But that's no reason to get married!

  She started to tell him that, but he was already going back into his room.

  "I think I'll lock the door, just in case," he chuck­led. "Good night, Mother." He stared at Arabella. "Good night, little one."

  "Good night, Ethan," Arabella said softly. "But, there's just one thing—"

  He closed the door before he could tell him what it was.

  "I hate to look smug, but I can't help it," Coreen said with a smile as she walked down the hall with Ar­abella. "Miriam was so certain she could get under Ethan's skin again. I couldn't bear to see her hurt him so badly twice."

  "He was different with her at supper," Arabella said, voicing her biggest fear, that Ethan was once again falling under his ex-wife's spell.

  Coreen glanced at her. "Ethan is deep. Don't worry. He wouldn't marry you just to chase Miriam away. I can guarantee it," she added, looking as if she wanted to say something more. But she shrugged and smiled faintly. "I'd better get to bed. Sleep tight, darling, and congratulations."

  "Nothing happened," Arabella blurted out. "I don't know what Miriam said—"

  Coreen patted her cheek gently. "I know you, and I know my son. You don't have to tell me anything. Besides," she added with a grin, "men who aren't frustrated don't look like Ethan looked when he went back into his room. I'm old, but I'm not blind. 'Night!"

  Arabella stared after her, nervous and uncertain. She went on down the hall, hoping against hope that she wouldn't encounter Miriam on the way to her room.

  She should have known the woman would be lying in wait for her. Miriam opened her door just as Ara­bella drew even with it. Her face was flushed and her eyes were red. She'd obviously been crying.

  "You snake," Miriam accused furiously. She threw back her auburn hair contemptuously. "He's mine! I'm not going to give him up without a fight!"

  "Then you can have one," Arabella said quietly. "We're getting married. Ethan told you so."

  "He won't marry you," the other woman replied. "He loves me! He always has! He only wants you." She let her eyes punctuate that coldly sarcastic re­mark. "You're quite a novelty, but you'll wear thin pretty quickly. You'll never get him to the altar."

  "He's making the wedding arrangements already."

  "He won't marry you, I tell you!" Miriam flashed. "He only divorced me because I ran around on him."

  "That seems like a good reason to me," Arabella returned. She was shaking inside, but she wouldn't back down. "You hurt his pride."

  "What do you think it did to mine, having you thrown in my face from the day we married?" she burst out. "It was always Arabella this, Arabella that, from the whole damned family! Nobody could have lived up to you, nobody! I hated you from the start, because Ethan wanted you!" Her eyes were wet with tears and she was sobbing as she tried to speak. "Imagine that!" she laughed brokenly. "I had twice your experience and sophistication, I was more beau­tiful and sought-after than you could ever hope to be. But it was you he wanted, your name he whispered when he made love to me." She leaned against the wall, crying helplessly while Arabella gaped at her.

  "Wha.. .what?" Arabella gasped.

  "It was only when I accused him of using me as a substitute for you that he stopped being capable of making love to me," Miriam said, slumping. "He was obsessed with your body. He still is. Probably," she added, rallying a little, "because he's never had it. Now he'll get his fill of you, and then maybe I can have him back. Maybe I can make him want me. He did love me," she whispered achingly. "He loved me, but I couldn't make him want me, too. Damn you, Arabella! He would have wanted me if it hadn't been for you!"

  She went back into her room and slammed the door, leaving a shocked, staggered Arabella in the hail.

  She managed to get into her room without really seeing where she was going. She fumbled the light switch on and locked the door before she collapsed on the bed.

  Was Miriam telling the truth
? Had Ethan been so obsessed by her body that it even affected his mar­riage? Was it possible for a man to love one woman but lust after another? She knew so little, had such a faint experience of men that she didn't know.

  The one thing she was certain of was that Ethan still wanted her. It might not be enough to base a mar­riage on, but she loved him more than her own life. If desire was all he had to give her, perhaps she could build on that and teach him, someday, to love her. She wasn't as beautiful as Miriam, but he'd said once that inner qualities were just as important.

  His ardor that afternoon and that night were proof that his so-called impotence with Miriam was just a fluke. Surely if he could want one woman, he could want another? Miriam had hurt his pride and his body had rebelled. But at supper he'd warmed to Miriam, so might that not affect his ability to want the other woman? Miriam had declared war in the hall and Ar­abella was afraid that she might not be able to com­pete. Especially when compared to the more beautiful older woman.

  Her mind gave her no peace at all. It was much later when she closed her eyes and went to sleep, leaving all the worries behind.

  Things looked a little brighter when she awoke the next morning. She had to be more confident. She could work at her appearance, at her personality. Perhaps she could become like Miriam, and then Ethan might be able to love her. She might still get Miriam to acknowledge defeat, using her own tactics against her.

  She put on her prettiest pale green cotton sundress with its dropped square neck and cinched waist and full skirt. It was a flirty kind of dress and it matched her eyes. She put her hair into a neatly coiled chignon on top of her head and deliberately used more make­up than normal. She had a pair of huge earrings she'd never liked, but she wore those, too. The result was a much more sophisticated version of herself. She smiled seductively and nodded. Yes. If a sophisticated woman was what Ethan wanted, she could be that. Certainly she could!

  She went downstairs with a bounce in her stride. If only it wasn't for the stupid cast, she might really look seductive, she thought, glaring at the bulky thing. Well, only a little while longer and it would be off, then she could really do some important shopping for the right clothes.

  When she got to the breakfast table, Ethan and Miriam were already there, with Coreen and the housekeeper, Betty Ann, busy alternating between kitchen and dining room with platters of food.

  Miriam and Ethan appeared to be in intense con­versation, and not a hostile one, because he was smil­ing gently and Miriam was hanging on his every word. Miriam even looked different this morning. Her long hair was plaited and hanging down her back. She was wearing a T-shirt and jeans and no makeup at all. What a change, Arabella thought almost hysterically. She and the other woman looked their own opposites.

  Ethan turned and saw Arabella and his jaw clenched. His eyes narrowed with something she couldn't quite define.

  "Well, good morning," she called gaily, bluffing it out. She bent over Ethan's tall figure and brushed her mouth teasingly over his nose. "How are you? And how are you, Miriam? Isn't it a beautiful morning?"

  Miriam murmured something appropriate and concentrated on her coffee, giving Arabella a glare before she lifted her cup to her lips.

  Arabella sat down, still with a bounce, and poured herself a cup of coffee. "I guess Coreen and I will go to Houston today to find my wedding gown, if you don't mind, Ethan," she said breezily. "I do want something exquisite."

  Ethan stared down into his coffee cup. Images of the past were dancing before his eyes. Miriam had said something similar when they became engaged. She'd even looked as Arabella did now, oh, so sophisticated and lighthearted. Had he been completely and totally wrong about Arabella? Did money matter to her now that she was apparently without a career, now that she couldn't earn her own way? Or was she trying to compete with Miriam by becoming the same kind of woman? Mentally he dismissed the latter. Arabella knew he didn't want another Miriam. She wouldn't make the mistake of trying to emulate a woman he despised. He couldn't bear the thought of another marriage like his first one. Why had he committed himself? He'd wanted to get rid of Miriam, but now it seemed he might be walking back into the same trap.

  Coreen came in with a plate of biscuits, took a look at Arabella and did a double take. "Arabella? How. . . different you look, dear."

  "Do you like it?" Arabella asked with a smile. "I thought I'd try something new. Do you feel like going to Houston with me today?"

  Coreen put the plate of biscuits down. "Certainly. If you'd like to. . .."

  "By all means, go ahead," Miriam said huskily. "I'll keep Ethan company," she added with a rather shy smile at her ex-husband.

  Ethan didn't answer. He was still trying to absorb the change in Arabella.

  He didn't say anything to her all through breakfast and Arabella began to feel nervous. He and Miriam had been talking earnestly, and now he looked un­comfortable when she'd mentioned the wedding gown. Was he having second thoughts? Didn't he want to marry her after all?

  Suddenly, he got up from the table and started out of the room.

  "Just a minute, Ethan," Miriam called quickly, seeing her chance. "I need to ask you something."

  She ran to join him, clutching seductively at his arm as they went outside together.

  "What a nice way to start the morning," Arabella said over her second cup of coffee about half an hour later.

  Coreen patted her hand. "Don't worry so. Let's get going. I'll just run into the kitchen and tell Betty Ann where we'll be."

  While Arabella continued to think about the scene at breakfast, the phone rang and she got up to answer it, since Coreen and Betty Ann were occupied.

  Considering the sour note the day had started on, she should have expected it to be her father, she thought when his curt voice came over the line.

  "How are you?" he asked stiffly.

  She curled the cord around her fingers. "I'm much better, thank you," she replied, her tone just as stilted.

  "And your hand?"

  "I won't know until the cast comes off," she said.

  "I hope you had the sense to let an orthopedic sur­geon look at it," he said after a minute.

  "A specialist was called in, yes," she replied. Her father made her feel ten years old again. "There's a good chance that I may be able to play normally again."

  "Your host filed an injunction against me, so that I can't touch the joint account," he told her. "That wasn't kind of you, Arabella. I have to live, too."

  She bit her lip. "I. . . I know, but. . ."

  "You'll have to send me a check," he continued. "I can't live off my brother. I'll need at least five hundred to get me through. Thank God we had good insur­ance. And I'll want to hear from you as soon as your cast is off and you've seen the specialist."

  She hesitated. She wanted to tell him that she was marrying Ethan, but she couldn't get the words out. It was amazing how he intimidated her, and she a grown woman! It was habit, she supposed. He'd al­ways controlled her. He still did. She was just a wimp, she thought angrily.

  "I'll.. .call you," she promised.

  "Don't forget the check. You know Frank's ad­dress."

  That was all. No words of affection, no comfort. He hung up. She stood staring blankly at the receiver. Before she had time to show her concern, Coreen was back and they were off to Houston in Coreen's black Mercedes-Benz.

  They browsed through the exclusive bridal depart­ment at an exclusive store in Houston for an hour be­fore Arabella was able to choose between three exquisite designer gowns. The one she settled on was traditional with Alencon lace over white peau de soie, a delicate, modified V neckline that plunged to the waist but in such a way as to be discreet. It was unique and incredibly sensuous all at once. She chose a tra­ditional veil as well, one with yards and yards of fab­ric which Ethan would be required to lift during the ceremony. Arabella felt the sense of tradition to her toes, because she was going to her wedding bed a vir­gin.

  The pleasure of the d
ay had been faintly spoiled by Ethan's attitude and Miriam's changed image. Ara­bella still didn't understand what had gone wrong so suddenly, and even as she was choosing the gown she wondered if she'd really get to wear it. Ethan could change his mind. She wouldn't even blame him. Probably he was finding it hard going to give up Mir­iam, and the divorce had only been final for three months. Coreen had said that he'd been moody dur­ing those three months, too. She frowned at the gown as the saleswoman wrapped it with care in its distinc­tive box.

  "What a blessing you're a perfect size," Coreen smiled. "No alterations. That's a good omen."

  Arabella managed a wan smile. "I could use one."

  The older woman gave her a curious look as she gave the saleswoman her credit card. But it wasn't until they'd completed their shopping, right down to delicate silk-and-lace undergarments and nylon hose, and were on their way back to Jacobsville that she fi­nally asked Arabella what was wrong.

  "I wish I knew why Ethan was so distant this morning," she told the other woman.

  "Miriam's doing, no doubt," Coreen said curtly. "Don't underestimate her. Ethan's treating her too nicely and she likes it."

  "I won't underestimate her." She hesitated. "That phone call I got this morning was from my father. He

  called and asked me to send him a check—" She cleared her throat. "Well, he's still my father," she said defensively.

  "Of course he is."

  "I should have paid for the gown," she said sud­denly. "Then, if the wedding is called off, it won't put any strain on your budget."

  "Listen, dear, our budget doesn't get strained and you know it." She frowned at Arabella. "This was Ethan's idea. He wanted you to have a designer gown."

  "I think he's changed his mind. He and Miriam were getting thick before breakfast," Arabella said miserably.

  Coreen sighed gently. "Oh, Arabella, I wish I knew what was in my eldest's mind. Surely he isn't letting that woman get under his skin again!"

  "Miriam said that he wanted me when he married her," Arabella blurted out. Her lower lip trembled. "She accused me of ruining her marriage."