Santos answered gruffly. "He's on the beach, by the longboat, waiting for you."
She reached out for the banister, feeling faint.
Santos hurried to her side, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Easy, Catherine, it will be over soon."
"It will never be over," she cried, and wrenched herself free to run upstairs.
o0o
Catherine held her head up high as Santos escorted her along the beach to the longboat. The sand seeped into her slippers, but she continued walking, holding her dress above her ankles so it wouldn't trail in the sand.
Lucian stood beside the boat with his back to her. He wore his breeches, his boots, and his shirt. He was dressed entirely in black, an appropriate color for the infamous Lucifer.
He turned at her approach and as she drew closer he held out rolled papers tied with a purple ribbon.
"Your payment, madam."
Catherine felt as if he had struck her in the face. She almost raised her hand to her chest in search of her pearls and the feeling of protection they had offered her. But she had no protection, only herself to rely on. She raised her hand and took the papers from him.
Not a spark of regret, not a quiver of emotion. Nothing. He planned to send her off without a word.
Anger and hurt warred within her and she turned to go, then stopped, recalling the courage and determination of the young woman she had become when held captive on his ship.
She turned around with a smile and a flourish, walked up to him, leaned on her toes, kissed his cheek, and said, "Thank you. You have taught me much and I will put it to good use."
His eyes and nostrils flared suddenly, but his lips remained stubbornly locked.
She drank in one last look at him and hurried off. Santos helped her into the longboat and she sat watching Lucian grow smaller and smaller as the boat rowed out to the ship.
Shortly, she stood on the deck of the ship, the crew weighing anchor, the sails unfurling, the ship swaying, and still Lucian stood in the distance.
She had hoped, prayed, begged the Lord above to let her stay in Heaven with Lucian. But he hadn't answered her prayer.
Don't give up!
"Never," she whispered, needing to hold on to her courage and strength. She sent the Lord a silent prayer that one day she would return to Heaven and all would be different.
She repeated the prayer over and over, blinking back her tears as she watched Lucian standing on the shore while the ship sailed farther and farther from him.
Chapter Twenty-five
"Love me, angel," Lucian demanded staunchly, and kissed her with a hot, sweet passion that sent the shivers racing through her. She returned his kiss, ached for it, hungered over it. It had been too long, much too long, since she had tasted his lips, felt his naked flesh against hers, felt his hands roam over her and ignite her flesh with passion.
Lord, but she needed him.
"You belong to me, angel," he said, lowering her to the bed in his cabin and covering her with his fevered flesh.
"Yes, Lucian," she cried softly.
"Love me," he repeated, kissing her with a fierce frenzy.
She threw her arms around him holding tight, returning his kisses. "I love you." She cried through her tears.
"Never stop. Never give up loving me. Never," he urged as he faded from her arms.
"Lucian!" Her scream filled the darkness of her bedroom as she bolted up in bed crying his name repeatedly.
Her door burst open and her father, oil lamp in hand, hurried into her room. He rushed to her side, placing the lamp on the bedside table before joining her on the bed and taking her in his arms.
"Another dream?" he asked, cradling her against him as he had often done when she was a small child and needed comforting.
"Yes," she sobbed, relieved that he held her, relieved that his health had returned and he was once again the strong, imposing man she remembered. His hair was completely white now, but he had gained back the lost weight. His features marked by age and stress, were as handsome as ever. This ordeal had at least been kind and aged him gracefully.
"I thought by now —" His words faded and he shook his head. "You've been back two months. I thought time would heal your hurt."
"I'll never forget him. I can't," she said softly. "But it would help if you —"
Her father released her abruptly and stood. "We've been through this before. I will not discuss it."
Catherine had seen her father adamant about an issue before, but this stern refusal to speak to her about the papers he had signed condemning Lucian to servitude was unlike him and gave her cause to wonder what he had to hide. "Your explanation of your signature —"
He interrupted her again. "Would serve no purpose. It was many years ago and there is no point in going into the details. You only need to know I made the wisest choice possible then."