"I've never said it, and that's the problem." There was temper in his eyes again, and the edge of it in his voice. Overhead, thunder crashed like balls of lead. "Words have magic. Spells and curses. Some of them, the best of them, once said change everything. So I haven't said them, hoping, in a cowardly way, that you would change first, and I'd just tend to you after. I'm sorry for that, too. I do want to take care of you." He lifted a hand to her cheek. "I can't help it. I want to give you things and show you places, and to see you happy."

"You're a kind man, Aidan," she began.

"It has nothing to do with kindness. I love you, Jude."

He saw her eyes change, and the fact that it was shock and wariness that came into them only showed him how far he'd gone wrong. There was nothing left to do but bare his heart. "I'm lost in love with you. I think I was the moment I saw you, maybe somehow before I ever did. You're it for me. There was never one before, there'll never be another after."

She felt a desperate need to sit down, but there was only the ground and it seemed much too far away. "I'm not sure- I don't know. Oh, God."

"I won't rush you the way I did before. I'll give you all the time you need. I'm only asking you to give me the chance. I'll settle things here, then come to Chicago. I can open a pub there."

She had to press a hand to her head to make certain it stayed on her shoulders. "What?"

"If that's where you need to be, that's fine."

"Chicago?" It didn't matter about her head now. Nothing mattered but the man gripping her hand and looking into her eyes as if everything in the world he wanted was centered there. "You'd leave Ardmore and come to Chicago?"

"I'd go anywhere to be with you."

"I need a minute." She tugged her hand free to walk to the garden gate, lean on it while she caught her breath.

He loved her. And because of it he would give up his home, his legacy, his country to follow her. Not asking her to be what he wanted, what he expected. Because she was enough just as she was.

And more, he was offering to be what she wanted. What she expected.

A miracle.

No, no, she wouldn't think of loving and being loved in return just as strongly, just as deeply, just as desperately as a miracle. They deserved each other, and the life they would make.

So she would just consider it right.

She'd found Jude Murray, all right. And a great deal more.

Her heart was steady when she turned back. Steady and quiet and calm. He didn't quite know what to make of the little smile on her face.

"You said you needed a wife."

"And I do, so long as she's you. I'll wait as long as you need me to wait."

"A year?" She lifted her brows. "Five, ten?"

The knots in his stomach twisted like snakes. "Well, I'll hope I can persuade you sooner."

Dreams took risks, she thought. And courage. Her deepest dream was standing, waiting for her answer.

"Tell me again that you love me."

"With all my heart, with everything I am or will be, I love you, Jude Frances."

"That's very persuasive." With her eyes on his, she walked back down the garden path. "When I realized you were attracted to me, I thought I would have an affair, something hot and reckless and daring. I'd never had one before, and here was this big, gorgeous Irishman more than willing to cooperate. Isn't that what you wanted, too?"

"I did-thought I did." Panic snuck back up on him. "Damn it, it isn't enough."

"That's convenient, because the trouble was-is-" she corrected, "I'm just not built for reckless affairs, not in the long run. So even before that first night, when you carried me upstairs, I was in love with you."

"A ghra." But when he reached for her, she shook her head and stepped back.

"No, there's more. I'm going back to Chicago, not to leave but to sell my condo and settle my business so that I can move here permanently. It wasn't for you, and it still isn't for you that I've chosen to do this. It's for me. I want to write. I am writing," she corrected. "A book."

"A book?" Everything in his face went brilliant, with a pride, she realized, that astonished her. And sealed everything. "That's wonderful. Oh, it's what you're meant to do."

"How do you know?"

"Because just saying it makes you happy. It shows. And you've a lovely way of telling a story. I said so before."

"Yes," she said quietly. "Yes, you did. You said it before I could."

"I'm so pleased for you."

"I've always wanted to, but I didn't have the courage to do it, to even consider it. Now I do." Now, she understood, she had the courage for anything. For everything. "I want to write, and I'm going to be good at it. I want to write here. This is my place now. This is my home."

"You weren't leaving?"

"Not for long, but I was determined not to come back to you. I found my place here. My place, Aidan. It had to be mine first. And I found a purpose. That had to be mine, too."

"I understand that." He reached out, just touched the ends of her hair. "I do, for I was the same. Can you accept that I know that, and want all of that for you, and still want the rest?"

"I can accept that I found my place, my purpose, and now I've found you. So it's you I'll come back to. And I'm going to be good, very good, at all of it." This time she reached out, took his hand. "You've given me the words, Aidan, and the magic of them. I'll give them back to you. Because what we start here, today, we start on even ground."

She paused, waiting for the fears and the doubts, but all that came into her was joy. "There was never one before," she said quietly. "Though I wanted there to be, tried to make myself into someone so that there would be, because I was afraid to be alone. Now I've learned how to be alone, and trust myself, to like myself. I won't be coming to you weak and malleable and willing to always do what I'm told so as not to make trouble."

With his heart humming, he touched a finger lightly to his battered nose. "I think I've got that part, darling."

She laughed, and wasn't the least bit sorry. "Once I take you, there'll never be one after." She held out her other hand. "Forever, Aidan, or never."

"Forever." He took her hands, bringing first one, then the other to his lips, then on a deep breath, he knelt at her feet.

"What are you doing?"

"Doing it proper, finally. There's no pride here," he told her, and his heart was in his eyes for her. "I don't have a bag of jewels taken from the sun to pour at your feet. I've only this."

He reached into his pocket to take out a ring. The band was thin, and old. The little diamond in its center caught a stray beam of light and sparkled between them, a promise once kept, waiting to be given and kept again.

"It was my mother's mother's, and the stone is small, the setting simple. But it's lasted. I'll ask you to take it, and me, for my love for you is beyond measure. Belong to me, Jude, as I belong to you. Build a life with me, on even ground. Whatever that life is, wherever it is, is ours."

She promised herself she wouldn't cry. At such a moment she wanted her eyes clear. The man she loved was kneeling at her feet, and offering her- everything.

She knelt with him. "I'll take it, and you, and treasure both. I'll belong to you, Aidan, as you belong to me." She held out her hand so he could slip the ring on, a circling promise to the heart. "And the life we build starts now."

As he slid the ring on her finger, the clouds whisked away and the sun poured out light bright as jewels.

And kneeling there among the flowers, they didn't notice the figure watching from the window, or the wistful way she watched them.

They reached for each other. Lips met. And as fresh pain exploded, Aidan sucked in his breath.

"Oh! It hurts." Jude eased back, struggling not to laugh as she stroked his cheek. "Come inside, we'll put some ice on it."

"I've a better cure than that." He rose and scooped her up into his arms. "Just have a bit of a care, and we'll be fine."

"Are you sure it's broken?"

He slanted her a look. "Aye, since it happens to be attached to my face, I'm sure. And there's no need to look so pleased about it." He pressed a kiss to her forehead as he paused at the front door. "And I'm thinking, since you are, this might be just the time to remind you, Jude Frances, you're owing me two hundred pounds."

"And I'm thinking you'll make it worth my while."

She lifted her hand, watched the way the little diamond sparkled in the sun. Then reaching out, reaching forward, she opened the door herself.