Arin Newbury should have been happy. Her latest book--a fantasy of pirates, magic and romance--was well on its way to becoming a best seller. Her boyfriend--the C.E.O. of Raddison Books--had presented to her, on Christmas Day, the keys to a brand new van. Her children, seventeen-year-old Shelby and Matt, fourteen, had finally accepted Wesley Raddison as a part of their lives, and the four of them had spent a relaxing Christmas holiday together. She had nearly everything she wanted in life, but less than a week after Christmas, suspicion and disappointment had her feeling irritable and depressed.

Arin wanted to appreciate the fully loaded mini van that Wesley had given her, but it wasn't the Christmas present she'd been expecting. Rather, after seventeen months of exclusive dating and numerous conversations about what each of them wanted in a marriage partner, she'd expected something different--the kind of something that was far more personal, and came nestled in a small, velvet box. Arin had honestly believed that Wes was going to propose, and her disappointment, coupled with his plans for New Year's Eve, had given birth to suspicion. She'd been questioning her feelings and his every word since Christmas morning, and she kept reaching the same conclusion. Wesley was seeing someone new, and he was flying home on the 29th so he could spend New Year's Eve with his new flame.

"Can you blame him?" Arin asked of her mirror self as she put on her make-up. "Look at you. You're forty-two, for heaven's sake, and he could just as easily have a couple of twenty-one year olds with rock hard bodies and absolutely no hang-ups about extra-marital sex. Did you really think he would choose you?" Tears blurred her vision. Yes, she really had believed Wesley loved her, that he wanted to marry her; and her belief had led her to make the one mistake she'd sworn never to repeat. Arin had trusted a man. She'd allowed herself to fall in love, and now Wesley was breaking her heart just as her ex-husband had more than a decade ago. "You're smarter and stronger now," she told her reflection. "You don't need a man in your life." After spending extra time on her hair and makeup, Arin was grimly determined to face the situation head on. Today, she would return the van keys and send Wesley Raddison on his way.

Wesley left his hotel room early, eager to see Arin. Finally, after months of preparation, the big day had arrived. Winning Arin's trust had been difficult, convincing her children that he was good husband material even more so, but every excruciating night spent apart from the woman he loved would be worth it now, if only she said yes to his proposal.

After checking his coat pockets to make sure that he had everything he needed, Wesley picked up his suitcase and took the elevator down to the lobby. The desk clerk waved him through the check out process. "I have everything I need," she said, smiling. "Good luck tonight. I hope to hear good news the next time I see you."

Wesley couldn't hide the grin that spread across his face. "Thanks, Tess. Remember, not a word to anyone until after we're gone. Okay?"

"Don't worry," the young woman replied. "I can keep a secret."

The drive to Arin's house was blessedly short, but as he pulled into the driveway, it occurred to Wesley that not bursting right out with the truth was going to be an exercise in patience. He wanted so much to sweep Arin off her feet and carry her straight to the airport, but he'd spent too much time planning this day to blow all the surprises in one fell swoop. "Calm down," he chided himself as he waited for her to answer the door. "Stick to the plan. You'll be glad you did."

Arin answered the door, looking as gorgeous as usual. There was enough natural curl in her golden blonde hair that she had no need to lacquer it with hairspray in order to obtain the attractively disheveled look of soft waves curling about her face. The slight disarray, coupled with her fathomless brown eyes, had an amazing effect on Wesley. Whenever she looked up at him, he could not help but picture her beneath him, her hands fisted in the sheets or moving urgently over his back as the moment of passion washed over her.

"Good morning, sweetheart." Wesley shut the door behind them, and quickly reached for her. He wrapped both arms around her, and was surprised that Arin didn't wind her arms about his neck and urge his lips to hers for a kiss. Troubled by her lack of affection, he stepped back and held her out at arms length. "What's the matter, baby? Is something wrong?"

"No. Everything's fine." Standing on tiptoe, she gave him a light kiss on the cheek. Her smile was overly bright and less than convincing, especially when he glimpsed a flash of sorrow in her eyes. "Are you all packed and ready to head home?"

Wesley immediately noticed the acidity with which Arin asked her question. "So that's what this is about," he mused to himself. To her, he replied, "Yes, though I wish I didn't have to go. You know I wouldn't leave so soon if it wasn't something truly important. Right?"

"Sure. I understand." The pouting woman maneuvered her way out of his arms and, with a wave of her hand, dismissed the conversation. "You're a busy man. I know that, and I wouldn't dream of keeping you away from your all-important work."

Wesley watched silently as Arin stalked through the living room and into her kitchen. Normally, he would have warned her to watch her tone, but he wanted everything to be perfect today. Besides, she was obviously upset about his choice to fly "home" before New Year's Day. He would allow her a little leeway--for now.

Arin walked away from Wesley, surprised that he didn't comment on her sarcasm. He was a patient, loving man--but he was also an old-fashioned guy. She'd learned early on in their relationship that he wasn't one to tolerate certain behaviors, and being sarcastic was one of the things that got her into trouble. That Wesley let her comment go without so much as a warning was, to her way of thinking, further proof that he no longer cared for her.

Two years ago, Arin would never have imagined that she'd interpret a lack of scolding as a bad thing; but Wesley was different from every other man she'd ever known. He had never once been unkind, but on the day of her first television interview, her self-derogatory comments concerning wrinkles and fat had earned her several sharp swats on the bottom. It was the first time she'd been spanked, as an adult.

"That's enough," Wesley had admonished while she stared up at him, her hands wandering back to soothe her stinging flesh. "You will not cut yourself down, young lady. Understand?"

Entirely too stunned to speak, she'd only nodded before slipping into the bathroom to change her clothes. Several hours and a successful television interview later, she'd still been too embarrassed to bring up the subject of that impromptu spanking. Wesley, however, had no such problem; and as soon as they returned to her hotel room, he pulled Arin into his lap and explained, gently but firmly, how he felt about her put downs.

"You're a beautiful, intelligent, talented lady, Arin, and I don't like to hear you ragging on yourself. You do it all the time." When she opened her mouth to protest, he laid his finger against her lips. "It's true, sweetheart. Every time I pick you up, you apologize for the way your hair looks, or not having time to put on all your make-up, or how you look in your jeans. Am I right?"

When a response was required of her, Arin found she could not argue. "Yes, I guess so, and I'm sorry. You must think me the most insecure, stupid--."

He silenced her again, this time with a tender kiss. "I think nothing of the sort. In fact, . think you're strong and gorgeous and the kind of woman I want in my life. But people who talk badly about themselves invite others to do the same, and I cannot allow you to do that. It's time you learned to see what a fantastic lady you really are, and I intend to help you."

"By--?" The established novelist suddenly found herself at a loss for words. Blushing, she mumbled, "You know--what you did this afternoon?"

"I spanked you," Wesley said calmly. "Though, I can't say that it was much of a spanking. To be honest, I would have preferred to sit you down, like this, and explain things to you first. And while I'm sorry you were unprepared by what happened, I need you to understand something. I believe that even grown women sometimes need a sound spanking to curb dangerous or childlike behavior, and that it's up to each man to provide for his lady's needs--even if it means taking her over his knee and giving her a spanking on her bare bottom."

"You do?" The question squeaked out. "You mean you would do it again if I cut myself down? And you'd ... bare me?"

"Absolutely." Wesley's voice was quiet, but there was an intensity in his bright green eyes. "I promise I'll never harm you, Arin, but I will take you over my knee and give you a real spanking if I hear you cut yourself down again. I would never allow anyone else to criticize you like that, so why should I allow you to do it to yourself?"

Arin had received many spankings since that first awkward start, though the reasons she went over Wesley's knee varied widely. A few months ago, her boyfriend would never have allowed her to say something sarcastic and simply walk away. That he chose to do so now was proof positive, in her mind, that he no longer loved her.

"Did you eat breakfast at the hotel?" she called from the kitchen. "Or do you want me to make you something?"

"Actually," Wesley replied, walking up behind her, "I was hoping you hadn't eaten, as I'd like to take you out for breakfast." He wrapped his arms around her from behind, and kissed the back of her neck. "What do you say?"

She shrugged, the motion stiff. "I'm not really hungry."

Wesley did not intend to take no for an answer. "Did you eat this morning, young lady?"

"No."

"All right then, we're going out. And you will eat something," he added. "The only question is do you want to sit comfortably at the breakfast table, or would you prefer a sore bottom to go with your waffles?"

"I'll eat," a reluctant Arin replied. "Where are we going?"

"I made reservations at the Campbell House bed and breakfast. We're due there in half an hour. Where's your coat?"

"In the laundry room."

Wesley kissed Arin's cheek. "Wait here," he told her. A moment later, he held her coat so she could slip into the sleeves. "Bundle up, love. It's cold outside."

It was also, Wesley realized later, decidedly cold in the car, and the restaurant, and every bookstore and antique shop they visited in the quaint village of Campbell's Crossing. It was, in fact, cold everywhere that they went, because Arin was giving him the cold shoulder. Still, he tried to be patient, for as lunchtime neared, so did the culmination of months of thought and planning. This was the day he would propose to the woman he loved, and he didn't want a spanking to overshadow the moment.

Arin, on the other hand, was practically hell bent on ruining the day. After all, why should she allow Wesley to enjoy their time together before he jetted off to the arms of another woman? The bastard was cheating on her, for heaven's sake--cheating when he knew how much it would hurt her. He'd been the one to help her rebuild her fragile self-esteem, so there was no way he could claim ignorance on the subject. She'd spent long hours in his arms, crying over the many defects her ex-husband had pointed out in her. Wesley had actually convinced her that she was smart, talented and even beautiful; that he could so easily tear her apart now, after everything they'd been through together, was absolutely unforgivable.

"Do you want to stop in the glass shop?" he asked as they neared the spot where they'd parked the car. "I think the owner is giving a blowing demonstration today."

Tired and nearly at the point of tears, Arin shook her head. "No, thanks. Besides, you should probably take me home and get an early start to the airport. It's supposed to snow this afternoon, and you wouldn't want to get stuck here for another day."

Wesley squeezed her gloved hand. "I've got plenty of time, sweetheart. I don't fly out until six-thirty." He tugged her in the direction of the shop. "Come on. You love this place."

Arin followed, tears stinging her eyes. Why did he insist on continuing this charade? Was he really so obtuse that he hadn't realized she was angry, or was this just his way of avoiding a confrontation? Maybe he intended to keep her shopping all afternoon, and then drop her at the door with a quick good-bye kiss before he hurried to his new lover. If so, he was going to find himself very much surprised. If there was one thing her ex had taught her, it was to act first. If her relationship with Wesley was on its last leg, she'd be the one to fire the mercy shot that ended the damn thing; and if the powerful Mr. Raddison thought to avoid that shot by remaining in public, then he was going to be sorely disappointed. She would tell him what she thought of him and his two-timing ways, even if she had to do it in the middle of the town square.