“Please, don’t!”
Ignoring her protest, he removed the veils and let them drop carelessly to the floor. Weeping, Hadassah turned her face away. He caught her chin and forced her head up so he could look at her. She closed her eyes tightly.
“Oh, beloved.” The wounds had been deep, the scars running from her forehead to her chin and throat. Releasing her wrists, he touched her face tenderly, tracing the mark of the lion. “You are beautiful.” He cupped her head in his hands and kissed her forehead, her cheek, her chin, her mouth. “You are beautiful.”
She opened her eyes as he drew back slightly, and he looked into them. What she saw melted all resistance, removed all shame.
“You are more beautiful to me than any woman in the world,” he said huskily, “and more precious than all the gold of a thousand ships.” He kissed away the tears on her cheeks and lowered his mouth to cover hers. When she relaxed in his arms, he drew her closer. When her arms slid around him, he thought he had entered heaven.
“Oh, Hadassah,” he said, breathing in the intoxicating scent of her. He drew back trembling and combed his fingers into her hair. “Marry me,” he said. “Marry me now.”
She smiled up at him, eyes shining through her tears. Once again God had brought her face-to-face with her greatest fear: Marcus had seen her face. He had seen her scars. And the love in his eyes had only grown more tender.
Oh, God, what a wonder you are! her heart cried out in gladness as she spoke the words she had longed to speak to Marcus for years.
“I will marry you, my lord.”
He laughed, drinking in the love in her eyes. “Oh, beloved,” he said, caressing her face. “I feel the way I did when I rose from the Sea of Galilee.” The joy he had felt then poured over him in wave upon wave. Tears wet his cheeks, and he didn’t even know he was crying. “I missed you. I have missed you as if half of myself had been torn away.”
She reached up and touched his face in wonder. “As I have missed you.”
He kissed her again, his desire for her as intense as it had ever been, even stronger, growing. He loved the smooth, silky texture of her skin. He loved the look in her eyes when he touched her, a reflection of the wonder and pleasure he felt. Love filled him so full that the spirit within him sang in celebration. And he knew it was a gift—a gift from a loving Father who had been waiting for him to come home.
The echo in the darkness had not been Hadassah’s voice at all but God’s, calling out to him, never letting him go.
O Lord, Lord, what a wondrous thing you’ve done. You’ve given me the desire of my heart. Me, the least deserving of men. O Lord God, my God, your love amazes me. O Abba, I love you. I thank you. Christ Jesus, Father, I will praise and worship you for as long as I draw breath upon this earth, and beyond that, on my knees before your throne in heaven.
He pressed Hadassah to his chest, his heart overflowing. At last . . . at long last, he was home.