Cate heard Elise downstairs, but she decided to sit with Jack a moment longer before going down. Since the morning she’d woken lying in bed with him, she’d barely touched him, other than to routinely check his wounds, and she found herself aching to connect with him.

Her heart was still brimming for Charlie, the pain of losing him, losing the life they’d planned together; still raw. She’d kept up with the pretense that he might be alive for Lilly’s sake more than anything, knowing in her heart there was little chance he’d survived, and now that she was alone without Lilly, she felt more than ever that he was truly gone. Jack made her feel something that Charlie never had, and she couldn’t pretend it wasn’t true. She only wished she’d known what had happened to Charlie, to have that closure, to know for sure. He’d been such a good man; even walking by his side had made her feel safe, the total opposite of her father, which was why she’d always been drawn to him. Why she’d said yes to marrying him when he’d asked, even though she’d wondered if it were enough to be fond of someone rather than in love.

And then there was Jack. Jack who made her feel things she’d never felt before, but who scared her more than anything. Because with Jack, she felt everything: every brush of his skin to hers, every look, every moment. There was nothing safe about her feelings for Jack. She sat just far enough away from him that they weren’t touching, her palm on the bed, fingers waiting to sneak over to his.

“I don’t know how we’re ever going to get out of here, Jack,” she said, keeping her voice low.

“I should have taken us to the beach that day,” he said, shutting his eyes as if he were in pain. “I should never have brought us here. Knowing all those soldiers were evacuated . . .”

“Stop.” She did let her fingers dance toward his then, holding on to him. “We don’t know if we would have got there in time. I just keep thinking about Lilly and hoping she made it, that somehow she got there and made it on to a boat.”

Jack didn’t try to reassure her; and he couldn’t have even if he wanted to. There was no way of knowing whether she’d gotten there or not.

Jack moved his hand out from beneath hers, palm closing over the back of it as he lifted it and pressed a slow, warm kiss to her skin. Her heart started to beat erratically as her breath caught in her throat, and she summoned all her courage to do something she’d never thought she’d be brave enough to do.