by Nora Roberts
“I made nothing clear, as nothing was clear to me. But now I will. I’d have taken you with nothing. Now I’ll take you not at all.”
She turned, flung back her arm. It was blind instinct that made him grab her, pry her fingers open. “What is this?”
“It’s mine, given to me by Carrick. Sapphire.” She jerked away from him as her voice began to hitch again. “The heart of the sea. I could wish on it, he told me. One wish only, for my heart’s desire. But I didn’t use it and never will. Do you know why?”
“No. Don’t cry any more. I can’t stand it.”
“Do you know why?” Her voice rose, thick with tears.
“No. I don’t know why.”
“I wanted you to love me without it. That was my wish, so how could I use it and have it come true?”
Magic, he thought. He’d worried about magic, and she’d held it in her hand. He’d offered her things, and she’d wanted him. Enough to have thrown the fortune he’d let himself believe she desired most back into the heart of the sea.
“I did love you without it. I do.” He took her hand again, closed her fingers over the stone. “Don’t throw it away. Don’t throw us away because I’ve been stupid. I swear to you I’ve never handled anything as badly as I’ve handled this. Let me fix it.”
“I’m tired.” She closed her eyes and turned to face the sea. “I’m just so tired.”
“A long time ago—it seems like a long time—when I told you I couldn’t fall in love, I meant it. I believed it. There was no one . . . There was never any magic with anyone else.”
She stared down at the gem in her hand. “I didn’t use it.”
“You didn’t have to. You just had to be. I haven’t been the same since I met you. I tried to compensate for that. Stay in control, stay focused. I didn’t come here looking for you, Darcy, looking for this. That’s what I told myself. I was wrong, and I knew it. Somehow I’ve always been looking for you, always been looking for this.”
“Do you think I’m so hard, so small of heart that I can’t love where there isn’t gain?”
“I think there are countless parts to you. Every time I see a new one, I’m more in love with you. I wanted you to belong to me, and it was easier to believe I could hold on to you by offering you things.”
Through the weariness was just enough shame to make her honest. “That’s what I wanted once. Before you.”
“Whatever either of us wanted once doesn’t count now.”
No, nothing had to count but this. If they wished it. So she turned to him. “Do you mean it?”
“I mean it.”
“Then so will I.”
“More than anything, right now, I want you to look at me and tell me you love me.”
She shivered in the wind, crossed her arms over her breasts, gazed out to sea. It was the moment, she thought, when her life changed, when dreams trembled, when spells were cast and broken.
“Damn it, Darcy.” His impatient voice shattered her romantic images. “Do you want me to crawl?”
She looked at him then, the beginnings of amusement lighting eyes still damp from tears. “Yes.”
He opened his mouth, was on the verge of dropping literally and metaphorically to his knees. And that, he decided, would just put the cap on everything else he’d suffered that morning. “No. Damned if I will.”
Her heart simply soared. After one wild laugh, she threw herself into his arms. “There, now. There’s the arrogant bastard I love.” She pressed her lips to his, warm and welcoming. “There’s my heart’s desire.”
“Say it once,” he murmured against her mouth. “ Without swearing at me.”
“I love you, just exactly as you are.” She drew back,made a sympathetic sound. “Oh, no, look at that, you’re bleeding.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Well, I’ll bandage you up in a bit of a while, but I want you to ask me again, and ask me proper. Here, between the moon and the sun and the sea, before the light breaks through to morning. There’s magic here, Trevor, and I want our slice of it.”
He felt it, as she did, the trembling edge of power just held in check. He had no ring to give her, no symbol to seal the moment. Then he remembered the silver disk and slipped the chain over his head, over hers.
She remembered the words that had come as in a dream. Forever love.
“A charm,” he said. “A promise. Marry me, Darcy. Make a life with me. Make a home and children with me.”
“I will, and gladly. Here.” She pressed the stone into his hand. “A charm. And a promise.”
“You humble me.”
“No, never that.” She brushed her fingers over his cheek. “I’d take you, Trevor, prince or pauper. But, loving me, you’ll understand I’m pleased you’re more in line with the prince.”
“You’re perfect for me.”
“I am, indeed.” She sighed, laid her head on his shoulder when he drew her close. “Do you hear it?” she murmured. “Over the beat of the sea.”
“Yeah, I hear it.”
Music, full of joy and celebration, the lilt of pipes, the herald of trumpets.
“Look, Darcy.” He touched her hair. “Over the water.”
She turned her head, stayed in the circle of his arms and watched. As the sun broke through in the east, shimmered its light over the sea, turning the sky to the polished glow of seashells, the white horse flew with a flash of wing.
On his back rode Carrick, his silver doublet aglint, his dark hair swirling. In his arms, her head on his heart, rode his lady, her eyes of misty green bright with love.
Up they rose, a triumphant sweep of motion, over green hills shimmering with dew. And in their wake left a rainbow that glimmered like jewels.
“They’re together at last,” Darcy whispered. “And happily now, ever after. The spell’s broken.”
“That one is. This one . . .” He turned her face back to his. “It’s just getting started. Can you handle ever after, Darcy?”
“That I can, Trevor Magee.” She kissed him, sealed the vow. “I can handle it, and you.”
While the sun strengthened, they walked away from the sea. The music drifted into the hush of dawn, under a rainbow that arched from beginnings to ever afters.