Love. That’s how he was there. “I came to protect you.”

“But . . .” She rested her smoothie on the top of the railing and tucked her hair behind her ears. “What does that mean for your punishment then?”

“It means it won’t be shorter.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I didn’t know when I came here . . . I was mad at you for not coming with me and I was being stubborn.”

“And I didn’t know about Marguerite or I never would have let you come by yourself. I thought you would be safe because I knew Raphael was in New Orleans. There’s nothing for you to be sorry about. None of this was your doing, and I made my choice to defy my binding freely and clearly. Trust me, I don’t regret it.”

“So what do you do now?”

“I have to go back,” Gabriel said, trying to keep his voice even. He didn’t want her to feel guilty, didn’t want to influence her choice in any way. “Will you come back with me?”

“I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” Sara said, even as she knew she wanted to. Her heart was screaming that all she needed was a ticket and she was there. That it should be easy. He said he loved her. She knew she loved him.

Yet she needed to stay home in Florida, process everything she had learned, reflect, think about what she wanted to do. Decide if it was realistic to accept what he was offering, a platonic love affair. That in and of itself was an oxymoron. The idea of living with him, loving him, yet never able to have a sexual relationship sounded torturous, maddening.

But so did being apart from him.

What she wanted was to be with Gabriel.

What she needed to decide was how she could do that and retain her sanity.

He was immortal.

She was very much mortal.

At the moment, staring out at the water, watching wave after wave roll in, she didn’t see how she could have everything. Yet wasn’t sure that she could live with nothing.

“I won’t push you,” he said. “I know I’m asking a lot of you, and it’s your decision, but know that I want you with me.”

She glanced over at him, wanting to touch him, to lean against him, stroke his hair, feel his lips on her. How could she ache for that and never have it? How could she not know, just once, what it felt like to have him inside her, their bare skin touching everywhere, her ankles locked around his waist, the sweet scent of sweat and sex hovering between them, his dark eyes staring down at her?

“I love you,” she said softly.

His eyes went wide and his jaw shifted, hands clasped together in a fist as he leaned over the railing. “I love you too.”