Chapter Thirteen

Rafe squinted up at the sky, frowning at the gathering clouds as he moved across the Eastwind’s main deck. They were gray about the edges. In the distance, the whitecaps peaked higher as the water grew rougher. He hoped the storm passed them over.

He didn’t know how much more togetherness he could stand with his family. His mother hadn’t brought up his proposing to Sally, and for that he was grateful. But he knew it was only a matter of time before the subject reared its ugly head again.

So far, Serena hadn’t been much help. How could she, when he hadn’t had a chance to corner Katie and speak with her, his promise to stay away be damned? He didn’t want to stay away. He couldn’t. He caught glimpses of Katie, heard snippets of her sweet voice along the corridors, and each time the fire within him raged a little hotter. The desire to grab her, to wrap his arms around her and never let her go was an ache now, one that spread into a true physical pain, a longing unlike any he’d ever felt before.

It didn’t help matters that Serena was gone more than she was in residence. Lady Marchand enjoyed shopping and so monopolized her female guests’ days with almost daily excursions into the village. It amazed him how much shopping Hamilton women could do. Marriage to Sally would no doubt have been expensive.

“Where are you?” Conn asked, crossing over to stand beside him at the bow. “You’ve been staring out at the water for almost ten minutes.”

“I don’t know. Anywhere but here, I suppose.” Rafe faced Conn, turning his back to the water as he leaned against the rail. “Were you waiting for an answer on something?”

“No. I was waiting for you to blink. What’s weighing you down? You’ve been somewhere else for the last two days.”

Rafe shrugged, resisting the urge to go back to gazing at the water. “I suppose I have. I’m itching to get off this island.”

Conn grinned. “In a hurry to spend some alone time with Lady Sally?”

“No. I mean away from all of this. And all of them.” Rafe threw his arms wide and gestured all around him. A little less than thirty months separated him from his two younger brothers; yet at moments like this he felt at least a hundred years older.

Sometimes he envied their devil-may-care attitudes. He was more serious, more like Aidrian in that respect. Responsibility lay heavily on his shoulders and usually he embraced it, especially these days, with Aidrian so busy elsewhere.

When Katie had disappeared, and Aidrian had made his decision to remain on St. Phillippe, Rafe had been more than happy to travel and hadn’t cared how long he was gone. He had needed the distraction. But now distraction was no longer necessary.

He needed to resolve things with Katie. He’d lived without her for almost an entire year and didn’t want to do so any longer. He just had to untangle himself from Sally first.

As if he reading his thoughts, Conn broke in. “If you don’t want to marry her, don’t marry her. No one can force you into it.” For once, there wasn’t a trace of humor in his voice.

If only it was that simple. He shook his head. No one else knew how much trouble Sebastiano was in. As far as Rafe knew, he was the only one Inigo had told. It was time to let Conn in on the secret. “Sebastiano needs the Hamilton money.”

“Not badly enough for you to do something as serious as marry a woman you don’t want.” Conn shook his head. His hands came down on the railing, and it was his turn to stare out at the water. “I know Papi’s kept quiet and I know we’re hurting, but it isn’t the first time and I doubt it will be the last. We’ve been through rough times before and come out of it without Hamilton’s help. What’s so special about this time?”

“There’s too much counting on this, Conn. Hamilton pulls his backing and we could go under.”

“And Hamilton could lose his fortune tomorrow. Then what? If you ask me, it’s because Mami is afraid you’re going to bring another Katie home. Or worse, that you’ll bring this Katie back.” Conn glanced over at him, one eyebrow peaked at Rafe’s stare. “What? Did you think I wouldn’t recognize her?”

Rafe’s already low spirits sank further. “And Galen?”

“Him too.”

“Damn it.”

“You don’t have to worry. No one’s saying anything. Far be it for me to stand in the way of a lady trying to better herself.” Conn clapped him lightly on the shoulder. “What I don’t get is why you’re moping about here, when you could be with her. She’s here. You’re here. Now’s your chance.”

“Because she’s asked me to leave her alone.”

Conn’s eyes narrowed, and he rubbed his chin slowly. Then with a shrug and a snort, he said, “Coward.”

Rafe glared at him. Conn was unusually serious, staring hard at him as if he’d caught Rafe doing something unspeakable, something despicable. It was the same look Aidrian often gave Conn when he caught him doing something stupid. It wasn’t often Conn had the opportunity to scold one of his older brothers, although he didn’t seem angry, just disgusted. Either way, Rafe didn’t like being on the receiving end of it.

It was one thing to tell himself he was a coward, but quite another to hear Conn do the same. It rankled. Badly. “I beg your pardon?”

“You’re a coward, Rafe. A scared little boy afraid of making Mami and Papi angry. You don’t deserve to be happy at all. And you damn well know it. Makes me think perhaps Katie is too good for you.”

Irritation swelled within his gut. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The hell I don’t. Go and talk to her. For mercy’s sake, just do it, will you? I’m tired of seeing you stare after her, and her stare after you. It’s turning my stomach, and it isn’t like you. For the love of all that is holy, just talk to her.”

“I have too much to do here. I’m trying to ready the ship for a voyage north, remember.”

“I can do that. I’ll gladly ready everything for you. I’ll deal with all of it—the merchants, the hassles, all of it. Just go talk to Katie.” Conn reached out to grab the handful of papers clutched in Rafe’s hand. “Set things right before it’s too late and you hate yourself for the rest of your days for not having the courage, because we both know you eventually will.”

Rafe stared at him for a long moment. Conn was never serious if he could help it. But he was right. Rafe would hate himself, just as he already did for his lack of courage once before. Maybe he didn’t need Serena after all. Marchand Hall would be relatively empty. Katie would have no excuse to avoid him.

“I’m waiting for Ortiz and Manuel to return from—”

“I know. I was here.” Conn waved the papers in the general direction of the Marchand coach that had brought them to the harbor hours earlier. “Just go. Before the ladies get tired of shopping and Papi comes topside. You can blow it all on your own, but I’m not going to help you do it.”

That was all the prodding Rafe needed. Less than a minute later, he was tucked inside the coach, rocking his way back toward Marchand Hall. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so jumpy, like he had a bellyful of crickets. It was nauseating and exhilarating at the same time. Impatience got the better of him and they’d barely cleared the gates at Marchand Hall’s drive when he was leaping out of the coach to hurry toward the main house, ignoring the coachman’s worry-laden, “Captain Sebastiano? Are you all right?”

He hurried along the stone walk to the kitchen door. Thankfully, the kitchen was empty as he hurried through and up the staircase toward the attics. He didn’t know which room was Katie’s, but he could hardly go back down and ask someone.

Fortunately, there were only six doors, three on either side of the maids’ corridor. Unfortunately, as he paused to open the first door, one of the other maids rounded the far corner and they spotted one another at the same time.

He froze. She was a small woman with dark hair, and her hands were buried in her clean apron. Abigail? Martha? Damn it. He couldn’t tell them apart. He didn’t know any of them well enough, with Katie being the only exception.

The woman stared at him, and then, to his surprise, smiled. “Captain Sebastiano, what are you doing up here?”

“Actually, I was looking for Katie.” The words were out before he could stop them, and he winced even as he lamely added, “Do you know where she is?”

“She’s somewhere below. I could find her for you.” Her smile widened, and he wondered if he’d made a mistake, telling her his real reason for being there. It was too late to worry about it, so he tried to ignore the chill of foreboding as it crept over him.

“That won’t be necessary. I could—”

“Nonsense,” she told him firmly, marching up to slip her hand through his elbow. “Come. You can wait in her chambers.”

For a small woman, she was stronger than she looked, although he wasn’t really putting up much of a fight as he allowed her to pull him down to the last door on the left. “This really isn’t necessary. I don’t want to get her in trouble.”

“You won’t. No trouble a’tall. I’m not about to tell anyone you’re here.” She smiled as she thrust open the door. “I’ll be back as soon as I find her, Captain.”

Before he could protest further, she shoved him into the small room and closed the door quietly behind him. He looked at the small window on the far wall. It let in sunlight, but it also showed the room was in dire need of a fresh coat of whitewash. The walls were clean but dingy, and the two narrow beds bore equally worn quilts.

Katie deserved more than these cramped, rundown quarters. He wondered which bed was hers, as there were no personal artifacts on either, and he smiled when he heard the swish of returning footfalls. His heart actually sped up a little. This time, Katie wasn’t going to turn him away.

The door opened, but before he could turn to her, a bright light exploded before his eyes, fireworks erupted inside his skull and blackness came rushing up to swallow him in one bite.

* * * * *

Martha burst through the doors like a woman on a mission. “Katie, he’s here!”

Katie jumped at the unexpected sound of her excited voice, spinning about from the bottles she’d been dusting in Lady Sally’s room, knocking half of them over in her haste. “What the— Martha, what’re you doing? I almost broke all of them!”

Martha didn’t look the least bit contrite as she grabbed Katie by the arm with one hand and yanked the rag away from her with the other. “Come with me now. He’s above, waiting for you.”

As she spoke, Martha tugged Katie’s wrist, dragging her across the room toward the door. Katie frowned. “Who’s above? What are you about, Martha?”

“Captain Sebastiano!” Although it was a whisper, Katie still winced, as it sounded loud enough to her to reverberate throughout the entire floor. “And I’d hate for someone else to find him before you do. That would make for a terrible mess. And many tall tales. I’m not up to spinning any tales right now, tall or otherwise.”

“A terrible mess? Have you gone completely mad? You smuggled him into our room?”

“That’s the beauty of it.” Martha grinned wildly at her over one shoulder. “I just happened upon him. He’d come looking for you.”

Katie’s belly did a mighty flip at Martha’s pronouncement and a thousand butterflies took flight, wildly flapping their wings to spread a delicious tremble all through her. “He did?”

“He did. Now, come along before Mrs. Bates happens upon him. Or us.”

That was all Katie needed to hasten her stride, although she tried to keep as quiet as possible. It would be bad enough if Mrs. Bates caught her shirking her duties a second time. She didn’t want to think about the housekeeper catching her with Rafe in her room.

They ascended to the maids’ corridor, and Katie could barely breathe from the rush of happiness surging through her. Only a few minutes earlier she had been certain she’d never see Rafe again, aside from a passing glance now and then.

“Captain, here she—” Martha pushed open their door and her happy words died, falling to the floor with a thud. “What in God’s name…?”

Katie gasped as the door swung open and they found Rafe sprawled facedown on the floor. A shattered vase lay beside him, shards littering the carpet like dead leaves on the ground.

Gathering her skirts to tuck about her knees, Katie crouched beside him and grabbed his shoulder. “Rafe? If you can hear me, you must open your eyes.”

No response.

Ignoring her rising panic, Katie tried again, shaking him harder. “Rafe? Please…this is important. Open your eyes!”

When he remained silent, Martha also crouched. “I don’t think he can hear you, Katie.”

“I know!” Katie bit her bottom lip as she pondered their dilemma. “We need to move him. Now.”

“Oh, my,” Martha mused, staring down at him. “I have to admit, he does fill out a pair of breeches quite nicely. You have excellent taste in men, Katie.”

“Martha!” Katie let out a bark of shocked laughter. “Now is not the time to admire him! We need to move him. Would you care to guess who did this and why?”

“That bitch…” Martha growled. “We can’t possibly move him all the way back to the bachelors’ wing by ourselves. Look at the size of him. Never mind what happens if we’re caught moving him. How do we explain that?”

“Do you have a better suggestion? Where do you think Abigail is right now? Probably fetching Mrs. Bates. And if she comes up here now, we’re both going to be tossed out on our ears.” Katie knelt to grasp his ankles. “Take his hands. We have to move him. Now.”

“We don’t have much time, Katie. Maybe I should go find Josephine and get her to help us.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” Katie peered over her shoulder to make sure the corridor was still clear. Her heart pounded with so much force she felt lightheaded for a panicky moment. “Let’s just see if we can do it ourselves.”

“Fine.” Martha didn’t look too happy as she scurried around to grab Rafe by the wrists and they heaved in unison. “So, come on.”

Rafe was every bit as heavy as he looked. Considering he was deadweight, Katie was amazed her spine didn’t snap right in half, as her back muscles screeched in protest. The thought of lugging him down the stairs and to the bachelors’ corridor, without making a sound and moving as quickly as possible, brought a groan to her lips. It would be a miracle if they weren’t caught.

They grunted and heaved, panted and breathed as they slowly trudged toward the rear staircase.

Martha took a particularly hard step, stumbling in the process. “I’m losing my grip on him.” Rafe’s left arm slipped free to smack against the floor, and she swore softly, while Katie smothered a wild giggle. Rafe’s hand, his fingers curling into his palm, traveled less smoothly. It bumped and thudded as it scraped across the floor’s imperfections, and once Martha stepped on his thumb, causing them both to stumble.

That was the last straw. They dropped him, none too gently, on the carpet. Katie arched her back to pop the stiffness from it, while Martha bent at the waist to try and draw a deep breath. Their senses of urgency surged back in unison as they took hold of their respective limbs again. Martha tucked the wayward arm over his chest, and they hefted him up once more. Oddly enough, he felt even heavier now. How was that even possible?

The distance down the corridor had never felt so long. Instead of the gap closing, it felt as if it stretched farther with each bloody step.

At the top of the staircase, Katie dropped his ankles. Her back had gone from screeching to shrieking, and if she bent over again, she was afraid she’d never get herself back upright. Not to mention, she kept having the horrible image of dropping Rafe down the stairs.

“Katie!” Martha’s whisper was hot and hurried. “Come on!”

Rubbing her sweaty palms on her skirts, Katie glared at Martha. “I’m trying,” she gritted, crouching to take Rafe’s ankles again.

She peered down into the shadowy turn of the staircase. “Bloody hell,” she breathed, sweat trickling along her temples and along her spine. “We have to get him down those stairs. And without dropping him.”

“Oh, could you imagine the din he’d make if we did drop him and he crashed all the way to the bottom of the staircase?”

“What the hell—” Rafe’s voice was muffled by the carpet, but there was no mistaking the confusion in it as he rolled onto his side and peered up at both of them. “What the devil are you doing to me?”

“You need to get up. Now.” Martha grabbed him under the arms, and they both groaned as she tried to yank him to his feet. “A little help, please, Captain. Do you know how much trouble we’ll have if anyone happens upon us?”

“Trouble?” Rafe groaned again, rubbing the back of his head. “Where am I? Damn it all, my head’s pounding. What happened?”

Katie dragged the back of her wrist over her forehead. “One of the other maids brained you with a vase. And if it’s who I think it is, she wants you to be found here— which we can not let happen—and she’s probably fetching Mrs. Bates this very moment.”

All three of them stiffened as Abigail’s voice echoed toward them. “Honest, Mrs. Bates, I caught them myself! In her room, of all places.”

Katie’s mouth went dry, and she dove to help Martha heft Rafe to his feet. “You must get up. I need your help.”

“All right, all right,” Rafe grumbled, rising onto obviously unsteady feet. He swayed, grabbing the wall for support with one hand. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

“Oh, no you don’t. There’s no time for that, and we won’t ever be able to explain any of this if you are,” Martha snapped, pulling him toward the last door on the right. It was the room next to Abigail and Josephine’s, and was currently being renovated, as a previous storm had sent a tree branch sailing through the window and the rain had done its best to ruin the walls.

“Abigail, why on earth would Captain Sebastiano be up here?” Exasperation made Mrs. Bates’s voice louder than normal, and Katie reacted by dragging Rafe into the room while Martha closed the door silently behind them. “The bachelors’ quarters are nowhere near this corridor.”

Katie stared at the mess around them. Broken glass glittered on the floor just inside the windows and the wall was stained, the paper ruined. Large canvas cloths had been tossed over damaged furniture. Still, she breathed a silent prayer of thanks when she heard Martha say, “Mrs. Bates, what’s the matter?” as normal as ever.

“Abigail told me Katie and Captain Sebastiano are trysting in your room.”

“She said what? That’s silly, not to mention impossible. I was just in there. Katie was up in Lady Sally’s chambers last I saw her, and I haven’t seen the Captain since last evening.”

Katie pointed to the heap of canvas in the corner, draped over a low chair. “There,” she whispered, pointing.

Rafe noiselessly slid beneath the canvas, tugging her with him. It was hot and dark beneath the cloth, and Katie tried not to panic as the blackness pressed in to make breathing difficult. She didn’t like small spaces. Not one bit. Even darkness had weight, and it did its best to smother her. Her fear stemmed from childhood and she had yet to outgrow it. She couldn’t hold back the low groan.

“Easy, novia.” Rafe’s whisper drifted down through the darkness, and he slid an arm carefully about her to pull her close against his body. “Don’t give us away now.”

“I can’t help it. I can’t breathe,” she panted. “I—I don’t like the d-dark. It keeps m-me from b-breathing.”

“Just slow it down.” Rafe’s voice was low and calm, washing over her like a balm. “Breathe normally. Darkness can’t hurt you. Especially with me right here.”

Dizziness washed over her. She struggled to take slow, easy breaths, concentrating on how her blood moved through her body with each one. All the while, Rafe whispered, “In… Out…”

Little by little, her fear abated and the dizziness receded, but she still remained snug against him. Purely instinct, no doubt, keeping herself in constant contact with him. It was the only place she ever felt truly safe. Not since she was a young girl had she felt that same sense of security that she felt up against him, with his arm tight about her.

She glanced up at him, just able to make out his profile. “I’m afraid of the—”

“I know. I remember.” His arm tightened about her. “You and the dark. Trust me, I haven’t forgotten. And you’ve nothing to fear. I’m right here, and there is nothing here now that wasn’t here when we first came into this room.”

“I have plenty to fear. If Mrs. Bates catches us in here, I’ll be fired at once.”

The floor outside the room creaked, and he pressed a hand over her lips to quiet her. “Hush.”

She glared at him, but did as she was told. Just beyond the door, the creaking stopped, and Abigail stammered as she tried to explain to Mrs. Bates why the tryst she’d tried to expose didn’t exist.

Rafe grumbled, “I should hit her upside the head with a vase and see how she likes it.”

“You aren’t bleeding. I think you’ll live.”

“Hurts like anything.”

Without thinking, Katie slid her fingers up into the silken thickness of his hair. It was softer than she remembered, although his hiss of pain and the egg-sized lump she found kept her admiration in check. “I beg your pardon,” she whispered.

The canvas rustled as he turned to her. Her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, although she still couldn’t see him clearly. But she felt him move, felt the warm whisper of his breath on her cheek, and she was grateful for the darkness when he murmured, “I’m the one who should be begging your pardon, Katie. For everything. I would do anything in my power to go back and do things differently. But I can’t. I can only ask you to forgive me and maybe we can move forward from here.”

Her heart reverberated in her ears as the door suddenly opened. The urge to move surged through her, but she fought it as she heard Mrs. Bates say, “Perhaps you should spend the day cleaning out the larder, with Lucy overseeing you, Abigail. I don’t take lying lightly, especially when—” The door clicked shut again, muffling the rest of the housekeeper’s words and rendering them nothing more than sounds.

The footsteps died away, and Rafe tugged the canvas from over their heads. Katie dragged in a deep lungful of cool air, shoved several locks of hair from her face, but otherwise made no move to pull away from Rafe. He did nothing to free himself. Instead, he caught her by the chin and turned her face to his.

The air crackled around them. She could almost see the flashes, like heat lightning on a summer’s night. It was if they were suspended in time, the moment agreeing to never end. It was the first time in what felt like forever that she had gazed up into his beautiful eyes, but she hadn’t forgotten how it felt to do so. At that moment, nothing else mattered. The world consisted of only the two of them, and she wanted that to last.

He didn’t say anything, but just looked down at her with those unusual golden eyes. The air snapped between them, and when he dipped toward her, she lifted her lips to receive his kiss.

Everything fell away the moment their lips met. Rafe slid his other arm about her, dragging her up and across his lap to fold her against him. She eased into him, threading her fingers through the soft dark waves curling over his collar. Every last ache, every last pain, simply melted away as his mouth moved against hers. His kiss was a salve, the strongest medicine she’d ever had, and her toes curled in her house shoes. Pleasure unfurled deep inside her, flooded her veins with a sweet fire she’d forgotten existed. Perhaps he felt it as well, for his arms tightened about her. She didn’t protest. It felt so wonderful, being held this way, and when his breath hitched, boldness sped through her and it was her turn to tug him even closer.

She parted her lips, hesitant as she flicked her tongue against his upper lip. Her caution fled when he groaned deep in his throat. The wet heat of his mouth beckoned her and she let her tongue caress his. He eased her down onto the canvas, pressing his upper body into hers. She tightened her hold on him, unwilling to allow even a fraction of space between them, welcoming his weight against her. He surrounded her, engulfed her, and she melted into him, wishing like mad he would slide a hand over her waist, up to her breast, and touch her bare skin. She ached for his touch, for the exquisite pleasure of his hands on her body.

His mouth, hot and demanding, devoured hers, moved down along her jaw into the slope of her neck. An airy laugh bubbled to her lips as he brushed that sweet spot just below her left ear. He lingered over it before kissing his way down to the hollow of her throat, into the cleft of her breasts. Her body responded, her back arching, her breasts straining against the confines of her corset. Deep inside, down below her belly, a small knot tightened. And another. And another. But these weren’t uncomfortable knots. No, they were wicked in their sweetness, and as they multiplied, her breath grew more difficult to catch. Her head spun. Her heart raced.

His hair brushed her to send another ripple of pleasure through her. Without thinking, she threaded her fingers through it again, twisted them in the dark strands to hold on for dear life as a tidal wave of desire crashed over her. God help her, she wanted him and she didn’t care where they were. It didn’t matter. All that mattered was that maddening ache for him, the one searing her from the inside out. The one demanding to be satisfied now.

“Rafe…” She couldn’t keep the plaintive note from her voice. He had to feel it, and God willing, he wanted her with equal madness. She didn’t think she’d bear it if he didn’t. Tension swirled through her, the pent-up madness of unresolved desire.

He shifted, aligning his body with hers, and as his hips pressed hard into her, she felt the solid ridge of his erection right where she ached for him the most. Oh, yes. He wanted her. She smiled, her cheek pressed into the warm silk of his hair. She wanted to toss up her skirts and surrender to the urge. He rocked against her, and they groaned in unison. But it wasn’t enough. It would never be enough.

However, her skirts were wrapped tight about her legs and she couldn’t part them, could do no more than lift her hips a fraction of an inch off the floor. That wasn’t enough either.

Freeing one hand, she reached down to tug at her cumbersome skirts, and her frustration mounted as they refused to yield. Damn fabric. It trapped her but good.

Unable to loosen her skirts, she grabbed a fistful of his fine lawn shirt, tugging it away from his breeches, and eased one hand beneath it to slide along his smooth, hot skin. Perhaps he’d take the hint and free her as well. The words floated to her lips as he shivered against her. Any moment now and he’d reach his hand beneath the heavy linen and skim his fingertips along her calf, up her inner thigh…

“Wait…” Rafe was breathless as he broke away, fighting for air even as he pressed his hips into her once more. “Not like this. Not here, in this sad little room.”

“But—” Katie swallowed the rest of her protest. Desperation was an ugly thing, even if Rafe already knew she wanted him. He had to know. How couldn’t he?

He closed his eyes, his expression suggesting a man in pain. Or, judging by how tight his breeches felt, at least discomfort. His breathing remained ragged around the edges as he shook his head. “No. You deserve better than this. You always deserve better than what you get.”

When he opened his eyes, it was to gaze down at her as he always had, as if he couldn’t believe his good fortune at finding her there beneath him. No man had ever looked at her that way. She cherished it, even if that wasn’t what he was thinking.

He pulled away and sat up, running a hand through his hair. “I need to settle matters here first.”

“And then? What happens once you do that?” She tried to ignore the butterflies that returned to her belly. They weren’t comfortable; there were so many of them in there. She’d never been one to make demands. Why would she? The likelihood of them ever being met was almost non-existent. Scraps were all she should hope for, and anything more than that should be considered a gift.

But the words were out, and she twisted her skirt as he just stared.

Then he smiled. Only it was no ordinary smile. This one was slow and roguish, and made her feel warm inside.

Her warm feeling turned into the urge to brain him when he said, “Does this mean I’m forgiven?”

She shoved the rest of the canvas off and got to her feet, where she smoothed her crumpled skirts. That wasn’t enough for her fidgeting hands, so she tucked several loose strands of hair behind her ears. She adjusted her cap, knocked askew by Rafe’s hurried fingers. When she’d pushed the last pin back into place, she said, “By all rights, I should say no.”

“You should.” He stood up beside her, did his own amount of smoothing and tucking, and when he was satisfied, he leaned in and brushed his lips over her nape. “But you do forgive me, don’t you?”

“That feels so nice.” She sank into him with a murmur of contentment, fighting to keep her eyes open. “And I probably shouldn’t, but yes. I forgive you.”

He slid an arm about her waist to press her into his chest. “I will make it up to you, Katie. I promise you that. If it takes me the rest of my life, I promise you, I will make you happy.”

She turned in his arms and smiled up at him. “You have no idea what you’ve just promised, but I’m going to hold you to it.”