Devon laughed. “Faith, you could box the ears of the best of the King’s courtiers.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Lily smiled.
“It wasn’t meant as a compliment. I despair for Robert. He will have his hands full with you.”
Devon did not have far to look. Abu Ajir led the way. He had trained the crow to watch over Claire. It had been an easy feat since she fed and cooed over the bird, treating him like a child to the point he felt the bird had more of an attachment to Claire than himself.
His lagoon. There in radiant golden light of the mid-day sun stood a breathtaking siren from the sea with all the power that beauty held and for the life of him, he could not move. Once he thought her beautiful. At this moment, she was more than beautiful, she was the dazzling sun itself. There was color to her face, a flush that lent her skin a radiant glow. Her chestnut hair was knotted atop her head with a dozen or so dampened tendrils.
Devon moved closer. Her brown eyes sparkled in the sunlight. She pulled the pins from her hair, giving Devon an unobstructed view of her long, pale throat, her creamy shoulders, and firm jutting breasts, beneath a thin linen shift.
She unleashed every primitive instinct in him, instincts honed from generations of Irish warriors who took what they wanted. Devon could stand no more. He dove from the top of the cliff into the pool below, surfacing opposite her. She crossed her arms in front of her and started to move away. He laid a hand on her shoulder, an implied command to remain.
They stood in silence for a while, half a lifetime in the space between them.
“You are lovely.My wife.”
“My name is Claire,” she whispered, hinting the barest of protests. He knew her name well. Hadn’t he spoken it over miles and miles of sea a thousand times? Hadn’t it been the mantra that kept him going these years past?
With a long drawn out breath Claire said, “I never betrayed you, Devon.”
“I know. Lily told me. I’ve made a mistake.”
Claire’s eyes widened. “Yet you believed Lily and not me?”
“Did you realize how much you assumed my actions that day, Claire? How could you even think I could leave your bed and entertain the likes of Anne Jensen? She’d been dogging me since the day I set foot on Jamaica. She just happened to corner me at the exact time you happened by.”
She nodded her head, mulling over the possibility.
“It’s time to end this Claire. I know of the regrettable loss of your parents. I know of a young girl left to grapple alone in the worst part of the world. I know of a young girl who bravely sacrificed herself to care for those she loved. I understand your feelings of abandonment. I would never abandon you.”
Claire hesitated. She didn’t know what to believe. Her heart hammered, and her head hurt. She wanted to believe him−to desperately believe him. She willed the tears gathering in her eyes to go away.
“Don’t−” he whispered.
“I won’t.” She willed herself to stay upright, but still the tears came.
He stayed there standing feet away from her in the water. Drops glistening down his shoulders, down his breastbone. He could haul her up into his arms if he wanted−he could do anything, he was that powerful. He knew it. She knew it. But she saw something inside him fighting the awful force straining inside him.
Again, he beckoned her with his hand.
Claire stared at him, trying to clear her brain, sensing that he wasn’t meaning just now, but something more, something deeper, and something more profound. She didn’t know, couldn’t be certain of anything other than the searing pain in her heart and her raw fear of the towering power in this man, a potency he tried hard to keep leashed.
He took a step closer. “You have to come half-way, Claire. It’s all in your power. Take my hand. Do it. Come to me.”
She gazed up at him, the roar of the waterfall drumming in her ears. She shivered from the chill of the mountain water. She knew this would be her last chance. Devon was a proud man. He would not take any more of her rejections. Claire raised her hand, water dripping from her trembling fingers, she placed her hand in his. The strength in those fingers that told everything there was to know of this man. He was warm. God he was warm. And strong. Claire felt his fingers curl tight around hers.
“There are times in our lives when we have to take risks. We never know when our time is up. I can promise you this, Claire. I love you. I love you with my whole heart and soul. You are courageous beyond anything, and I respect you for that. But I can’t be whole, Claire without you. This past year has torn me apart, not knowing if I’d ever lay eyes on you again. When a piece of me said to give up hope, my soul whispered, Give it one more time.”
And then, she was in his arms. He’d drawn her up to him, holding her tight in his embrace, shielding her with his body against the world, against all the torments, fears and loneliness.
Cocooned within Devon’s arms, Claire closed her eyes and drank it all in−the man, the pirate, the millions of ways he moved her. He lifted her ever so gently and carried her to shore reverently laying her on soft green mosses. Claire buried her face against his throat, so conscious of where his warm flesh touched hers.
Devon caressed Claire’s arm and turned her face to him, making her look into his eyes to see the import of his words. “When Le Trompeur had you in his grasp, I went crazy. Don’t you see how the fates have brought us together, that life itself is little more than a series of coincidences, coincidences at work bringing about events that the merest chance might have averted, the very tool used by fate to shape our destiny. We were meant to be together Claire. We can no more stop it than the sun rises. I love you wholly and unconditionally. And I will never ever stop loving you, of this I promise.”
Tears coursed down her cheeks. “I do not want to love you. I cannot love you. You are a pirate, a wanted man. I want a name for my children.” She shook her head, and began to sob. “I couldn’t bear it if anything happened to you, Devon. I cannot lose you,” she cried brokenly.
Devon reached out and gently wiped away the tears as they fell. “Claire, love,” he whispered tenderly. “The longest journey is taken a step at a time. My love can wait, but it will neither yield nor change.”
