Gathering her in his arms, he smashed his mouth to hers and forced breath into her lungs. But still she didn’t move.
He could feel the life ripping from his chest, the pain so agonizing he could scarcely breathe. Nothing in his life compared to this. Not losing his brother, not losing his father, not even the awful revelation of Kirk’s betrayal.
Breathing once more into her mouth, he lifted his head, despair creeping into his heart. “No!” he screamed, raising his head to the sky.
Tears continued down his face, the wind blowing cold on his cheeks. Lowering his head, he gave in to the great sobs that built within him. He stared in shock at her beautiful face then slowly slid his face down to her chest. He buried his head against her, allowing the sobs to tear painfully from his throat.
Then he felt it. The faint, but steady rhythm of her heart. Thinking he imagined it, he pressed his ear to her chest and willed the world to still around him so he could detect a beat. But no, there it was again. She wasn’t dead!
But she wasn’t breathing.
Knowing she needed life-giving air, he bent and began breathing into her mouth in intervals. After several seconds, she lurched up, water erupting from her mouth.
He held her tightly as she heaved, her body racked by the violent expulsion of the sea water from her lungs and stomach. When she had ridded herself of the water, she coughed weakly, slumped against his chest.
He felt her open her mouth to speak, but he hushed her. “Don’t speak. Just rest.”
He lovingly smoothed a few tendrils of hair from her temple then pressed tender kisses to her forehead. His tears of anguish now turned to tears of relief and overwhelming joy as she recovered in his embrace.
Faster they came until he wept in earnest. She looked up at him, tears pooling in her own eyes. “I thought I had lost you,” she said hoarsely, her voice cracking.
“It is I who almost lost everything,” he whispered. “I couldn’t bear it if you sacrificed yourself for me.”
She struggled to sit up, and he loosened his hold on her. “There is something I would say, Merrick. Something I should have said yesterday, but I stubbornly refused to focus on anything but my revenge and ascending the throne.”
She broke off into another coughing fit, and he rubbed his hand up and down her back to soothe her. She shook violently from the cold.
“Shhh,” he soothed. “Don’t try to speak.”
“No, there is something I must tell you,” she choked out.
“We can talk later,” he said firmly, wanting only for her to rest and recover. He held her tightly against him, desperately trying to infuse his warmth into her body.
He needed to hold her, to convince himself she was alive. She clung just as fiercely to him, her body trembling with the cold. Knowing she needed immediate attention, he rose and scooped her up in his arms.
He stumbled forward, his feet slogging through the wet sand. He must get to the monastery as quickly as possible. Father Ling could help them.
Her hands crept tighter around his neck, and she closed her eyes so that he could no longer see the sorrow reflected there. But it hung over her like a thickly cut veil. He tightened his grip on her, his heart aching for the hurt she felt, for the horrible betrayal they both had suffered.
Her eyes still closed, she murmured in a choking voice, “My brother…Stephane…he murdered my parents. Davide. God… How could he? What could have made him do such a thing? The awful things he said about Father. None of it makes sense. Why murder Mother? Why worry over Davide or me?”
“I propose we find out,” he said grimly.
“Yes,” she said slowly. “We should get to the palace as quickly as possible and put an end to this madness.”
He halted his progress and stared intently down at her. “You aren’t alone, Isabella. I won’t leave you. We will do this together.”
She stared back at him, her eyes boring into his until he could feel her in every part of his soul. “And why do you help me, Merrick? Do you do so for England or do you helpme?”
He allowed her to slide from his grip until she stood before him on shaky legs. Then he crushed her to him, his mouth slanting over hers. The little fool. Had she no idea how much he loved her? That his heart beat only for her? He kissed her wildly, having no patience for more wooing embraces. “England?” he asked with a ragged breath as he pulled away. “I’m not sure I’ve ever heard of such a place.”
She threw her arms tightly around him, and he could feel her tears against his neck. Suddenly all the times he had spoken of England and his duty came back to him. Her stiffness, the hurt in her eyes.
“I do this as much for you as I do for England,” he said softly, surprising himself with the admission.
For the first time since he had taken up the cause of England’s protection, he was placing equal importance on something else. Not something. Someone.
“Can you walk?” he asked. “Or should I carry you?”
