When morning broke, Charlisse left Isabel asleep, grabbed a cup of tea from the galley, and made her way to the bow of the Redemption. As the ship glided along under towering peaks of white canvas, she raised the cup to her lips and took a sip, feeling the tea's warmth radiate down her throat. How many mornings had she joined Merrick at this same spotshe with her tea, he with his coffeeadmiring the way the breeze blew his wild hair behind him, the firm set of his jaw, and those dark, piercing eyes that turned to gaze at her when she least expected it. Then his lips would curve playfully, and he would draw her close in a tight embrace.
She missed him.
She still loved him.
How could he turn from you, and me, so quickly, Lord? Should I search for him? Quivering nerves bubbled up old fears. She had been rejected by every man she had trusted. I don't think I could bear it if Merrick didn't want me anymore.