She was in love with him. She was so stupidly in love with him, and no one had a clue. Part of her had already seen them together, tomorrow, a year from tomorrow, ten years. Lovers, partners, family. More children, a home, a life.

She’d lied to him, to everyone, including herself. And now, as it was with lies, she would have to continue to spin them, and live them, to make the first of them hold.

It wouldn’t be fair to him otherwise. For he hadn’t lied. He had wanted her, and she had no doubt that he cared for her. He cared for her children, was willing to offer a hand to help. He gave her his body, had awakened hers, and had offered her a friendship that she valued.

And still she wasn’t satisfied.

Selfish, she wondered, or just foolish? It hardly mattered. She had created the illusion and would continue it. Or lose him.

When it was over, whenever it ended, she wouldn’t regret it or curse God. She’d go on, because life was long and precious and deserved the best she could give it. When the time came and she had no choice but to live without him, she’d remember what it had been like to feel again, and to love. And she’d be grateful.

Steadier now, she braced a hand on the ground to push herself up. Her fingers closed over the disk as if they’d known it was there, waiting for her. With her heart drumming, loud as the waves below, she lifted it up, turned it under the stream of the moonlight.

It glinted dully, the single gold coin. Untouched, she thought with a shiver, unseen, for a hundred and fifty years. Since a young girl, desperate, had hidden it away to save for her lover. This, the symbol of the dream, the promise and the loss, lay cool in the center of her palm.

“Seraphina,” she murmured. And her breath caught as she closed her fingers over the coin, as she felt the wild need of a reckless young girl.

Laura curled into a ball on the ledge, high over the violent waves. And wept.

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

The sorrel colt was bright, pretty, and stubborn as a flea-bitten mule. Michael was working hard to prove that he was even more stubborn.

“By God, you’ll do it, you little bastard. You know how.”

As if to say that was hardly the point, the colt tossed his head, rolled his eyes in Michael’s direction, and stood firm. They’d been dealing with each other for just over six months, and both of them wanted to be in charge.

“You think you’ve got these fancy digs and three squares to stand around posing?” Michael slapped the bat in his hand, and the colt’s ears flickered. “You even think about kicking me again and you’ll be eating dirt.”