“If I die tomorrow, I die a happy man,” he murmured in her ear.
She raised her head up and eyed him balefully. “You won’t die tomorrow because I won’t allow it.”
“Is that a command, Your Highness?”
“Indeed it is,” she said with a nod of her head. “And if you think to disobey me, know that I will haunt you for the rest of your days should you do something so despicable as die on me.”
He leaned forward, brushing his lips across hers. The only sound in the room was their soft breathing and the slight smooching sound their lips made as they exchanged tender kisses.
“I have no intention of dying on you, Princess.”
She smiled at the endearment and cupped his cheek in her hand. “I couldn’t bear to lose you.”
She didn’t explain her statement or dwell on the absurdity of the notion. For indeed when it was all over with, shewouldlose him. But at least he would be well and alive. She could live with that even if it meant never seeing him again. Or being in his arms.
She sighed contentedly and relaxed in his arms despite her melancholy. She felt lighter, happy almost. Much of her pent-up hurt and anguish had been released in one molten explosion, and she felt energized. Ready to take on whatever awaited her in Leaudor.
Chapter Eighteen
February 20, 1815
Leaudor
The ship rolled and rocked with the gentle waves as the anchor was dropped. Moments later, Isabella tensed anxiously as the longboat was lowered into the water, and she tightened her grip on Merrick’s hand.
In the distance, she could hear the water crashing against the rocky coastline though she was unable to make out its outline in the night. And that was what frightened her. Though the men rowing them ashore were certainly able sailors, they were maneuvering in complete darkness. One false move, one mistake in direction, and they could be dashed on the many rock outcroppings and sucked under by the currents.
She tried to concentrate on the fact that within minutes she would step back onto her home soil for the first time in six months. A glance over at Merrick was unable to reveal any stress in his demeanor. Since leaving her cabin together an hour earlier, they had said little, completely focused on their impending arrival in Leaudor.
But she wasn’t able to so easily forget the hours they had spent in each other’s arms. It had been the single most satisfying and intimate experience of her life.
“Hold on!” one of the men shouted as they crested a large swell. They rowed frantically, trying to stay ahead of the oncoming wave. Water splashed all around them and drenched the inside of the boat.
Merrick wrapped his arms tightly around her and braced his feet on the bottom as they swayed precariously. Thick fog hung over them like a suffocating blanket making it impossible to see anything.
She gasped in shock as another wave blasted over them, the icy cold like a knife blade through her back.
She watched in horror as one of the men washed overboard when another wave crashed down on them.
“Take the oar,” the front man barked at Merrick.
Not hesitating, he scooted over and took up the oar, pulling furiously as they skated closer to shore. Her hands curled around the sides of the boat, and she held on as if her life depended on it. And it did.
A few yards away, the man came up sputtering and one of his fellow sailors extended an oar to him so he could pull himself back into the boat.
“We may not make it to shore,” the first mate muttered.
She glanced behind them and blinked when she saw a monstrous wave looming off the backside of the boat. Her mouth opened to shout warning but no words would come out. Then it fell on her like the weight of a hundred carriages.
She felt herself being tossed from the boat like a weightless rag doll. Sucked underneath the foaming, furious water, she struggled to break the surface and take a breath.
Pain racked her as her hip knocked against a boulder. Her head broke free of the water, and she gulped in air before she was dragged underneath once more.
Then Merrick appeared in front of her, grabbing her, bearing her to the surface. They held their heads above the water, and he immediately started a powerful stroke, holding her against him with one arm.
Several times she slipped from his grasp only to be hauled up against him once more. She coughed and sputtered as mountains of water spewed from her lungs. But still they continued toward shore.
Finally she felt the bottom beneath her feet and dug in with her boots. Breaking from Merrick’s grasp, she forced herself toward the beach. She was so cold, she was numb, but she was almost home. The thought gave her the necessary energy to push herself the remaining distance to the shore.
