Page 65 of Part of Your World

"Hold up, lad." Mr. Quinn's gaze lifted over Zane's head. "She ain't decent yet."

Zane twisted his neck, his need to verify she was alive overriding his sense of propriety.

Mr. Quinn sighed. "All right. Guess she's close enough." He released Zane's shoulders.

Zane immediately turned, spotted her a few dozen yards up the beach, and called her name as his heart surged to life. "Muriel!"

With reinvigorated legs, he took off at a run.

Her head came up at his call, and her face lit. "Zane? Oh, Zane!" She jumped over the discarded blanket at her feet and hurried toward him, her gait uneven in the sand.

As they closed the distance between them, Zane's heart inflated to a painful degree. She was here. Alive. And smiling at him as if his heart wasn't the only one pulling apart at the seams.

Her steps slowed as she drew near, but his didn't. He scooped her straight off the ground and into his arms. Her laughter rang into the night with such joyful purity that his eyes misted.

"Thank God," he murmured as he drank in her beautiful face, her smile, her glistening eyes. "Thank God you're all right."

"I am now." She cupped his face, her smile dimming as she took in his swollen eye and bruised countenance. "I feared fer ye somethin' awful. And now I see it wasn't fer nothin'." She wagged her head. "Yer poor face. I'm so sorry I put ye in harm's way."

He lowered her feet to the sand but spread his palms across her back to keep her snug against his chest. "I put myself in harm's way. And I'd do it again. With no regrets. I love you, Muriel."

Tears pooled in her eyes, but her smile beamed brighter than the search lantern. "Ah, Zane. I love ye, too. With me whole heart." She flung her arms about him and hugged him tight, pressing her face against his chest.

His heart sighed at her words, releasing some of the pent-up pressure and leaking warmth throughout his entire body. He ran his hands in circles over her back then moved to caress her arms. A shiver coursed through her. From the night air? Or from his touch? Heaven knew his entire body hummed at her nearness.

She leaned back slightly and lifted her chin, her hazel eyes gleaming and . . . inviting. An invitation he wasn't about to refuse, not when he longed for her like a sailor longed for the sea. Yet she deserved care. Delicacy. Especially after all she'd been through this night. His fingers trembled as he stroked the edge of her face. Her lashes fluttered closed, and her breath hitched softly. His gut tightened as he lowered his mouth to hers, his own breathing growing ragged. Their lips pressed together gently at first, tentative and testing. He'd never kissed a woman before, yet love had a way of guiding and inspiring. Instinct, desire, and deep-seated gratitude urged him to deepen the connection, to celebrate the lives that could have been lost but weren't, the love that could have been destroyed but was instead intensified into something that would endure forever.

He cupped her head and slanted his mouth over hers, letting her feel a bit of his hunger, his ardency. Her hands found their way to his shoulders and clung to him as if she needed his support. She had it. For all of their days.

She raised up on her toes and kissed him back with equal zest, and his pulse ratcheted. She tasted of sea salt and sweetness. A heady mix. A sigh-like moan vibrated at the back of his throat, and he knew he better stop before the fog of desire completely obliterated his sense.

He pulled back and watched her lashes slowly lift. A smile blossomed across her face at the same time, a smile he'd never tire of seeing. Especially when formed with kiss-plumped lips.

How he loved her. Her courage. Her big heart. Her dedication to family. He wanted to spend the next fifty years listening to her sing and hearing her profess her love in that charming Irish lilt.

"Will you marry me, Muriel?" The words popped out without any forethought, but he had no desire to take them back. "I know our future has more questions than certainties at the moment, but I'm sure that I want to spend it with you at my side. As my wife. If you'll have me."

He hadn't thought it possible for her smile to widen any farther, but she proved him wrong. "Of course I'll marry ye. There's nothin' in the world I want more."

Zane pressed a kiss to her forehead then clasped her to his chest and marveled at how the worst night of his life had turned into the best.

"All right, you two." Patrick Quinn called out from a distance not all that far away.

Zane's face heated as he relaxed his hold on Muriel.

"Liam and Fletcher are packed away in the carriage. We're ready to set off. Alana's surely worried herself into a tizzy by now."

Muriel released her hold on Zane's shoulders and stepped to the side. "We're comin', Da."

It didn't take long to bundle Muriel up into the carriage next to her father. Liam planned to send a crew from the hotel to fetch the rowboat in the morning, so they left it moored on the beach above the tide line. Thankfully, the police had carted the smugglers and Mrs. Underhill away in her carriage already, so Muriel didn't have to face the dreadful woman. Zane, Grandpa Clem, Max, and Zane's father rode their mounts behind the carriage as Eddie drove, ready to lend a hand should the wheels become mired in the sand. Liam invited everyone to stop at the hotel for coffee and medical attention before heading out, and Max insisted on being informed of all the happenings, since he'd missed the action while fetching the law.

Alana Doherty must have been watching for them at the window, for the moment the carriage turned down the service drive, she darted from her home, leaving the door wide open. She said nothing, just waited, the edge of her apron crushed in her fisted hands.

As soon as Eddie halted the team, the carriage door swung open, and Liam scrambled out.

"Liam?" Alana walked toward her husband with short, shaky steps. "Is he . . ."

Liam reached back inside, plucked his son from the seat, and set him on the ground.