“Not everyone’s heart speaks as clearly as yours.” Restless again, he drummed his fingers against the bench. “I’ve shown her who I am, but I haven’t told her what that might mean to her. I’ve made her my lover, but I haven’t given her love. I’ve shown her my family without telling her about her own. So yes, it troubles me.”

“You can change it. It’s in your hands.”

He nodded, stared into the night. “I’m taking her back in the morning, when she wakes. And I’ll show her what’s sleeping inside her. As for the rest, I don’t know yet.”

“Don’t only show her the obligations, Liam, the duties. Show her the joys, too.” She rose, keeping her hand in his. “The baby’s stirring. He’ll be hungry. I’ll make your good-byes in the morning if you like.”

“I’d appreciate it.” He got to his feet, gathered her close. “Blessed be, cousin.”

“Don’t stay away so long.” She kissed his cheeks before she drew away, and at the door paused, looked back. He stood in a shower of moonlight. Alone. “Love waits,” she murmured.

*  *  *

It waited, Liam thought when he slipped into bed beside Rowan. Here, in dreams. Would it wait in the morning, when he awakened her to all she was?

Like the princess in the fairy tale, he thought, stirred to life by a kiss. The fact that he was, in his way, a prince made him smile humorlessly into the dark.

Fate, he supposed, enjoyed its ironies.

Those thoughts, and others, kept him awake and waiting for dawn. At first light he slipped a hand over hers, linked fingers and took them back to Rowan’s own bed.

She murmured, shifted, then settled again. Rising, he dressed, studying her as she slept. Then he went quietly downstairs to make very strong coffee.

He thought both of them would need it.

With his mind tuned to hers, he knew the moment she stirred. He stepped outside, carrying his coffee. She would come to him, questioning.

Upstairs, Rowan blinked in puzzlement. Had she dreamed it all? It didn’t seem possible when she could remember everything so clearly. The aching blue sky of Monterey, the bright music of children’s laughter. The warmth of welcome.

It had to be real.

Then she let out a weak chuckle, resting her brow on her updrawn knees. Nothing had to be real, not anymore.

She rose, and prepared to experience yet another magical day.

Chapter 11

When she saw him standing on the porch, it struck her all over again. The wild thrill, the rush of love, the wonder. That this stunning, extraordinary man should want her left her speechless with delight.

Moving on pure emotion, she rushed through the door to throw her arms around him, press her cheek against that strong back.