For the first time in a very long time, he yearned to see tomorrow. Tomorrow and the day after that and the year after that. There was a possibility that with Megs he might have a life to look forward to. And because of that, tonight he was going to hunt down a man and assassinate him in cold blood. This act would damn his very soul but for Megs it was worth it.For Meggie he would walk the fires of hell.

He was aware, suddenly, of the chill condensing clammily on his skin, the smell of damp cobblestones, of the very air flowing in and out of his lings.But most of all he was aware of the woman, this woman, his woman, standing so proudly, waiting patiently for him, only him.He walked toward her and knew with every fiber of his being that he walked to life itself.

He pulled back, staring at her in the dim carriage, his brows still knit. "Megs?"Oh, right. She still hadn't told him. Well, it was his own fault; his mouth was simply delicious."I love you," she said, speaking clearly so that there might be no confusion.

I love you, Godric St. John, and now I'm breaking my word. I will not leave you. You may either come with me to Laurelwood or I'll stay here with you in your musty old house in London and drive you mad with all my talking and relatives and... and exotic sexual positions until you break down and love me back, for I'm warning you that I'm not giving up until you love me and we're a happy family with dozens of children.