SERENITY WOKE UP COCOONEDin warmth, more heat than she’d felt in what seemed forever. She cracked her eyes open, only to find herself looking at Luke’s broad, muscled chest. She blinked, wondering how she’d gotten into his arms.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice a mere rasp of sound. “When I got home last night, I just needed you so much. Please don’t be angry.”
“I’m not angry,” she whispered, her own voice choked with tears. It felt wonderful to be his arms. She’d never felt safe anywhere but here with him. She’d even managed to sleep, and she knew she owed that to him as well. Even in sleep, her body had recognized him and the security he provided. Since her world had been turned upside down, she needed him more than ever. She was just so afraid of beginning to depend on him again. To think this would last forever.
She swallowed thickly, afraid to know the answer to the question she must ask. “Did you find her?”
He shook his head, stroking one hand soothingly up and down her back. “Serenity, I have to ask you a few questions. I know it will be hard, but I need to know everything you can remember about the day you had our child.”
“I’ll try,” she whispered. “It was so long ago, and I was in so much pain. I’m sorry, but the details have gotten a bit fuzzy.”
“Oh, angel,” he breathed, pressing his lips to her temple. “You will never know how sorry I am that I wasn’t there for you. I would do anything to go back in time and change things.”
She blinked rapidly, trying to forestall her tears. She couldn’t cry anymore. He needed her to be strong. “Just find her. That’s all I ask.”
He cleared his throat. “Well, actually, that’s my first question. Did you see the child? Are you absolutely certain it was a girl?”
She frowned and put a little distance between them so that she could look up at his face. What was he saying? “I never saw her. They rushed her out of the room the moment she was born, trying to get her to breathe. And they... never brought her back. I asked them if I could see her... I just wanted to know what she looked like... They wouldn’t let me. They said it was for the best.”
Sighing, he leaned back against the pillows, rubbing his hands across his face. “So, they could have lied to you about that. Just like everything else.”
“You think we had a son?” she asked breathlessly. How could that be? For all these years, she’d dreamed of a little girl, mourned a little girl. “I named her, you know. I named her Bethany Claire.”
He pulled her back into his arms, holding her so tightly she could hardly breathe, but she didn’t care. It felt so good to have him here, to know that someone else cared about the child she’d lost.
“I don’t know,” he whispered finally. “I don’t know anything. I need to find out more. I need to talk to more people.”
“You’re hiding something,” she said, feeling suddenly cold, despite the warmth of his skin against hers. “You know something you’re not telling me.”
“No,” he said, then he gave a low, lost laugh. “Yes. I know something, but I don’t know if I can trust the information. I need to find out more, and I want to be absolutely certain of the facts before I get your hopes up.”
The coldness dissipated. “Just tell me this. Is our baby still alive? Is there a chance of that?”
He let out a harsh breath. “Yes. I think so. And maybe safe. Maybe closer than you think.”
Silent sobs shook her then, as the hope washed over her, terrible in its intensity. She could take almost anything but renewed hope. She knew now, why he’d been so hesitant to tell her. “I trust you,” she whispered. “I won’t ask any more questions. I trust you.”
They held each other tight, grieving for all the time lost.
* * *
SERENITY MUST HAVEdrifted off because she woke to the sound of running water. Blinking, she turned her head toward the sound and found Luke sitting in the deep porcelain tub in the luxurious bathroom that adjoined her room. His head rested against the curved back, and his muscular forearms had settled upon the rim.
She drank in the sight of him, feeling a bit voyeuristic but unable to turn away from the sheer beauty of him.
He swallowed, and she followed the movement of his throat, wishing she could press her lips there, catch a droplet of water that traced across his tanned skin.
Closing her eyes, she tried to think of something else, but the moment she did, thoughts of her missing child filled her with panic and terror, overwhelming her.
With a gasp, she flung the blankets aside and rose, drawn irrevocably toward him. As she entered the bathroom, he turned his face in her direction, and then sat up abruptly, sloshing water over the sides of the tub.
“Are you all right?” he asked in concern.
She sank to her knees beside the tub, uncaring that her nightgown immediately clung wetly to her knees. “Let me wash you,” she said, hearing the edge of desperation in her voice but unable to stop it. “Please, Luke. I need to touch you.”
He looked as though he were on the verge of protest, obviously sensing her fragile emotional state, but she didn’t give him the chance. Grabbing a bar of lavender-scented soap, she plunged it into the water, then rubbed it across his chest.
“Angel,” he whispered hoarsely. “Are you sure this is what you need right now?”
