“I was evil and cruel and brutal and a bastard,” he said.
She nodded. “Yes, you were. But I didn’t bring this up because I wanted you to feel guilty.” They entered the house and she led him toward the stairs, relieved to be out of the heat. He hesitated a moment before taking the steps beside her.
“My feelings for you changed after you healed me then rescued me from Barun..”
They stopped at the top and she turned to him, still not letting go of his hand. “So what happens now?”
“What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. You don’t want me here anymore, do you?” It hurt to ask the question and it hurt even more to wait for the answer. In her heart she wanted him to deny her accusation immediately, but he didn’t. His expression was like a mask, hard, unyielding and unreadable.
She placed his hand on her rounded stomach. “This is your child inside me.” The baby kicked and a look of wonder crossed his face before he quickly pulled his hand away.
Anger made her want to lash out, but she put a tight rein on it. This wasn’t the Morgan she’d come to know and love and she was determined to discover what was going on behind the mask he hid behind. “Tell me the truth. Do you want me to leave? Do you want me to go back to the twenty-first century? Do you never want to see your child?”
For a moment, a tiny second, the answer was in his eyes before he masked his emotions once again. But it was long enough for her to see. Long enough for the hope she’d been harboring to take seed.
She pivoted on her heel and walked away. He called out her name in an anguished voice, but she held her hand up and continued walking until she stood in front of the door to the room that held the mirror.
She pushed the door open revealing the mirror looming before them in the large, otherwise, empty room. The answer or the curse to her marriage? She approached it to find out.
“Don’t,” he said behind her. “Don’t do it.”
“You don’t want me here.”
“I…”
She closed her eyes, the pain too great to bear. Tears slipped from beneath her lids and dripped down her cheek. Their baby moved inside her as if feeling her despair.
“I can’t stay,” she whispered. “I can’t stay and see you every day knowing you don’t want me.”
His hands settled on her shoulders, and she opened her eyes to stare at their reflection.
“Don’t ever think I don’t want you, Juliana.”
“Then why?” she whispered.
“This is no place for you.” He settled his hand on her belly, his touch bordering on reverent, and that was when Juliana finally saw beneath the stoic mask.
“You’re afraid if I have this baby here I won’t make it.”
A pained look crossed his face. “A lot of women don’t.”
“But most women do. I’m strong and healthy, Morgan. I’ve faced Barun and survived. I can give birth in the eighteenth century.”
“What if something happens?”
She turned around in his arms. “Nothing will happen.”
“I can’t lose you,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Not again. Not like that.”
“I won’t go back without you.”
His eyes drifted closed and when they opened there was so much anguish in them she wanted to cry. “Then I’ll go back with you.”
“And what will you do in the twenty-first century? You told me before you have no skills other than sailing.”
“And plundering and killing.” The corner of his mouth lifted in an attempt to smile.
She smiled back, knowing the plundering and killing was far behind him unless someone threatened his family.
“Zach Langtree left when he was seventeen years old,” she said. “He never graduated from high school and has no training that will serve him in the twenty-first century. You’re part owner of one of the biggest shipping companies in the world. You have friends and family who love you. Your life is here. And my life is here with you.” She touched his cheek. “Morgan, I can step in front of a bus in the twenty-first century and be killed. Nothing in life is guaranteed except what we have at this moment in time. I would rather die a thousand deaths than be separated from you for even a moment. Please don’t send me away.”
He pulled her close, her belly impeding her from getting as close as she wanted. She rested her head on his hard chest, loving that she was back in his arms, but wishing it was for a different reason.
“I’m scared,” he whispered.
She had to close her eyes at the pain of hearing her strong warrior admit his fear. Not once during their captivity did he say he was afraid of Barun, a man who could have easily snuffed out his life. He’d acted with bravery and guts to free them, but the thought of her dying during childbirth terrified him.
“We’ll get through this and we’ll have a beautiful baby at the end of it.”
He searched her eyes, his own slowly losing the desperation in them. “But—”
She put a finger to his lips to silence him. “Tell me, honestly, where would you rather live? Here, where you’ve made a good name for yourself and you’re able to provide for your family and do what you love to do, or three hundred years from now? Because wherever you want to be, is where I want to be.”
The answer was in his eyes. He could no more go back to being Zachary Langtree than she could go back to being the seventeen-year-old girl with a head full of dreams.
“I want to stay here,” he said. “I want to raise my children in this time and teach them to sail. I want to show you the world.”
“Then that’s what I want too.”
He pulled her in for a quick hug. “Ah, God, Juliana. I love you so much.”
She squeezed him back. “I love you too.”
Epilogue
Morgan stood at the bow of the Juliana and watched London come into view. His first glimpse of England in over six months.
This was the end of the maiden voyage of the ship he’d commissioned Parker and Parker to build. The ship he named after the one woman he loved through all the centuries. It was only fitting he captain her first sailing and he’d done so with eagerness. Living in London was fine, but he missed the open water, the breeze in his hair and the ocean beneath his feet. He missed sailing.
Above him men furled sails, calling out to each other in excited voices, happy to be back to their families and loved ones. Morgan crossed his arms and planted his feet wide to accommodate the shuddering of the ship as the anchor lowered.
He swept a keen eye over the port, noting the other ships and their names. Recalling which company owned which ship. Some he didn’t know at all, but he wasn’t surprised. London shipping was growing by leaps and bounds and entrepreneurs were eager to jump on the bandwagon. Morgan studied the newest ships, taking pride in the fact that none compared to the modern Juliana. He’d done well designing this new vessel and made a mental note to talk to Reed about commissioning a few more.
The boom in the shipping industry was a windfall to Parker and Parker, lining the pockets of Isabelle and Reed and Morgan, who was now a full partner, and making them all very rich indeed. Currently they were looking to expand into India and China. Isabelle even asked Morgan to captain the first voyage to China, and he was seriously considering it. But only if he could take his family with him.
Just like Juliana promised, their son’s birth had been a piece of cake. Or at least that’s what she said. At the time Morgan hadn’t been sure he would survive, let alone Juliana. Months before the birth she’d assuaged Morgan’s fears by interviewing damn near every doctor and midwife in all of London, settling on the one with the most modern beliefs and practices. Of course, when the time came, she still shocked the doctor by insisting Morgan be present throughout the entire labor and birth. And so in wonder and fear, he watched his wife deliver their son into his hands.
Zachary Morgan Langtree inherited his mother’s hair but his father’s eyes and lust for adventure.
When Isabelle approached Morgan about taking this run to Spain, Juliana informed them all that no way was she being left behind in London. She packed up their clothes, closed the house and boarded the ship with Zachary riding on her hip. Morgan put up token resistance, wanting his family with him as much as they wanted to be with him.
And he’d proudly watched Zachary take his first steps on the Juliana, convinced the boy took to sailing like a fish to water.
As if conjured from his thoughts, his wife appeared at his side, holding a sleeping Zachary to her shoulder.
“Patrick wore him out,” she whispered.
Morgan gently took the active two-year-old and cradled him against his chest. The boy’s lids fluttered, he sighed and his body went limp. The slight breeze ruffled his blond curls.
Morgan put his arm around Juliana, pulling her close to his side. His family. For so long he wouldn’t even allow himself to think of such a concept and now he couldn’t imagine living without them.
“Are you glad to be home?” he asked.
Juliana leaned against him, placing her hand over his heart. “London isn’t home,” she said. “Home is wherever you are.”
About the Author
At the age of ten, when I read Black Beauty, I knew I wanted to be a writer. But life got in the way. I discovered boys, went to college, got married, had kids, all the usual things people do. Yet during it all, the dream simmered until one day my two oldest were in school and my youngest was taking a nap and I said to myself, “Sharon, if you’re going to do it, now’s the time.”
My brother sold me his out-of-date Gateway computer for $200. I had dial-up connection and an Internet package that allowed me twenty hours per month of web surfing. Somehow I managed to write my first story in between pre-school playdates, naps and diapers.
Now, ten years later, the kids are nearly grown and I’m extremely proud and still a little awed by the fact that I have ten books published with many, many more to come God willing.
If you enjoyed reading Wherever You Are or any of my other books, please shoot me an email and let me know. I love hearing from readers and respond to every email I receive. You can find me at www.SharonCullen.net. I’m also an avid (okay, obsessed) Facebooker. Friend me at Sharon Cullen - Author where you’ll be the first to learn of new releases or just find out what I’m up to.
I also have a newsletter where I announce new releases and contests. Please join us at http://groups.yahoo.com/group/Sharon_Cullen/
Look for these titles by Sharon Cullen
Now Available:
Night Song
Deception
Love on the Edge
Deception
Redemption
Obsession
Love takes no prisoners.
Tiger Eyes
© 2010 Kimberly Nee
Captain Gabriella Markham is accustomed to standing on the deck of her ship, wind in her face. Not rotting in a dank hold on an enemy’s ship. There’s only one thing on her mind: revenge on the pirate responsible. Until she realizes the seriously injured man sharing the darkness is Captain Diego Cruz, the man she almost married.
When Diego opens his eyes, he finds himself twice cursed. Not only was he attacked and taken, he’s marooned on an island with the woman who betrayed him five years earlier. Even worse, the fire between them still burns. And the faster he heals, the harder she is to resist.
Desperation cracks their resolve. Passion consumes them, but it only reopens the wounds of the past. Survival is only the first step in a quest to find out who hired another pirate to see them dead—and why. Only then will they learn if their hearts will survive on the fragile strand of trust that still hangs between them…
Warning: This book may lead to fantasies involving deserted islands, passionate affairs, and a belief in true love.
Enjoy the following excerpt for Tiger Eyes:
It was a calm night, with a gentle wind blowing in from the east. The warm air wrapped about Gabby like a tender embrace, and she sighed as she leaned against the quarterdeck railing. The island was still visible, though about the size of her fist, and as twilight stretched across the sky, it wouldn’t be long before it was merely a darker mass in a sea of darkness.
After they came aboard the Serena, Gabby was shown to a small cabin, and the order was given for water to be heated. She soaked until the water grew too cool for comfort, and took an oddly great delight in scrubbing both her hair and her body.
Since they were very nearly the same height, with the same rather deceptively slender build, Fiona offered Gabby a gown, though she didn’t seem particularly pleased about it. Still, Gabby thanked her anyway, and when she finished her bath, slipped into the clean garment, wanting to cry from the sleek softness of it, and the delicious perfume of clean fabric wafting down over her head. Though she normally shied away from such feminine garments, she reveled in this one now.
Footfalls sounded behind her and she turned to see Diego coming toward her. Gone were the straggly beard and unkempt moustache. Though he was clean-shaven, he radiated the same feral air as he did on the island, and her heart quickened at the sight of him. He still limped, but his black breeches were neither stained nor torn, and his white shirt was almost blinding in its cleanliness.
His sleeve brushed her bare arm, reminding her of her ladylike apparel. She was most unaccustomed to gauzy gowns, as she lived in breeches and tunics like her men. Her hair, free of tangles and snarls, had been tamed into a fall of loose dark curls that brushed her shoulders and danced on the breeze.
“Did Farruco pronounce you healed?” she murmured as he brought one booted foot up onto the bottom rung of the railing and leaned his forearms against the top.
“Not quite healed, but well on my way. And he commended you on your care. Apparently you’ve the makings of a fine ship’s surgeon.”
“No, thank you. I’d rather stay at the helm, if it’s all the same. I nearly retched each time I cleaned your wounds.” An unfamiliar, giddy sort of laugh teased her lips. Why did she feel so dizzy, as if she might swoon? It was uncomfortable and yet, a bit amusing at the same time. Her belly fluttered as if alive with a million butterflies all trying to break free, and as she cast a sidelong gaze up at him, those wings intensified their beating. It was like seeing him for the first time all over again.
He sighed softly, looking out at the silver trail caused by the Serena’s wake. “Not exactly my most preferred way to pass several weeks, but nonetheless, not the worst, either.”
As he spoke, he turned to give her a slow smile and her heart tripled its beat. The sudden rush of blood to her head made her giddier still, and her instinct was to tighten her grip on the railing, lest her knees betray her and crumple right out from beneath her.
“No, I don’t suppose it was the worst,” she said as he turned completely sideways to rest on one elbow as he gazed down at her. His eyes glittered like black opals, though she knew they weren’t black at all. They were like topaz, a beautiful warm mix of gold and brown. “Tiger eyes,” she murmured without thinking.
“What was that?”
His voice cut through her fog and she cleared her throat. “I…uh…that is… It is lovely out here. I’ve missed being at sea.”
“We are heading to St. Phillippe. If you like, I can take you to Port Royal.”
A tempting offer, the thought of being at sea with him for at least another three weeks. But no. It wouldn’t be wise. Her feelings twisted and fought with her head far too much. Regretfully, she shook her head. “No. I thank you for the offer, but I will find my own passage to Jamaica. Or perhaps I will simply go home.”
“Where is home these days?”
“London. My brother and I own Markham now. Well, my half-brother, that is.”
“Half-brother?”
She nodded. “Did I never mention him? His name is William. His mother was my father’s wife, but my mother was his great love.” She offered him a wistful smile. “Perhaps I sh
ould be ashamed of that, but I’m not. Theirs was a tragic love, but wildly romantic as well.”
His eyes softened. “You never struck me as the starry-eyed romantic, Gabby.”
“Because I’m not. Their story did not end happily, though I was fortunate my father claimed me as his right from the beginning. It is also fortunate that I shared his love for the seas, while William saw it as dirty work.”
She shrugged, her smile fading. “I became the son William was not, but unfortunately, my father could leave me only my financial interest in Markham. I own the Galatea outright, and receive a stipend of Markham’s profits, but William owns controlling interest. I’m not at all certain how he managed to do this, but my father was quite the miracle worker, you know, and I don’t think he trusted William overmuch.” Another shrug. “Not that it matters to me. I prefer not having to deal with all of the rubbish that comes with property ownership and running the company. I am quite happy to sail my ship and watch my bank account fatten. William can’t sack me. He can’t even touch my ship. Although, since I haven’t a clue where the Galatea is right now, that is moot, I suppose.”
Her eyes stung with unexpected tears. Her ship. She hadn’t realized how much she missed it until that moment. But miss it she did. Much as she loved being at sea on any ship, it couldn’t compare to being aboard her ship.
“Perhaps Carmichael has it. He might have returned to Jamaica to file a claim.”
“Perhaps. I wouldn’t put it past him to claim salvage on it. I only hope he isn’t fool enough to sail near Eleuthera. He’d be no match for the wreckers.” She pressed her lips together as fresh anger flared in her belly at the thought of her precious Galatea destroyed because Carmichael fell prey to those who made their living from the ships they lured to their shores and then stripped. “If that happened… When I find him, he will be sorry.”
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