If I Wait For You (21 page)

“
You leave in four days,
Sara.”

“
I know when my ship
departs.”

He nearly winced at her coldness.
Anger at himself for his helplessness, at her for pretending she
wasn’t glad to see him, surged through him. Grabbing her upper
arms, he demanded, “Do you think this is easy for me, to leave you,
to send you to New Bedford alone? Do you?” he said, giving her a
small shake.

“
Yes. I do. You are glad to
be rid of me, to be done with your burden, your little
problem.”

He lifted her up and gave her a
bruising kiss. “You are so wrong, Sara. I…” His throat closed
around the words his heart screamed for him to say. His touch
gentled and he brought one hand up to the top of her head to slide
the kerchief from her hair, his eyes telling her what he could not
utter aloud. “I will be here for four days. Until you sail. They
may be the only four days we’ll ever have together.”

“
What are you saying?” she
whispered.

“
I need you Sara.” And he
kissed her again, this time so gently, a small whimper escaped
Sara’s throat.

Her eyes widened. “But your
promise.”

“
I will keep my promise to
your brother. That isn’t what I meant.” Oh, hell, what did he mean?
He wanted to be with her, to sleep with her, to hold her and love
her and pretend they had forever. He pulled her into his arms,
holding her tightly against him, letting out a low sound. “I just
need you, Sara.”

Sara wrapped her arms around him,
pressed her cheek against his chest, breathed in the sea and wind
scent of him. “All right.”

The next three days were like a dream.
West acted for all the world like a doting husband in front of the
Tillinghasts. Sara couldn’t have been happier. She could almost
pretend they were husband and wife in truth, that he loved her as
much as she loved him. But at night, when they were alone, it was
pure torture—and pleasure. He would not consummate their love, and
Sara did not push him to even though she yearned for him in a way
she didn’t fully understand.

“
I could leave you with
child,” he said on the second night they lay together, hands
clasped. “There is nothing on this earth I want to do more than
make love to you, but I cannot take that chance. Not when you are
about to embark on such a journey. Not when I might not come home
to New Bedford for years. I wouldn’t even know.” He swallowed and
kissed her. “How could I do that to you?”

Sara nodded, understanding completely,
even if her body yearned for him.

“
Turn around,” he’d said,
and wrapped his arm around her, drawing her close against him,
close enough so she could feel his arousal pressing against her
buttocks. She squirmed and smiled and he drew in his breath.
“Vixen,” he said, followed by a rumble of laughter. “You are making
this business of being a saint rather difficult.”

“
Sorry,” she said, smiling
secretly.

He sighed and pulled her close.
“Tomorrow night I have a surprise for you.”

“
I adore
surprises.”

She did—until she found out what it
was. He led her to a pool, deep in the jungle, a pristine place
where a waterfall tumbled over rocks, glittering beneath a full and
uncommonly bright moon. It was lovely and she hugged him when she
saw it. “It’s a wonderful surprise,” she said.

“
This is not the surprise,
though I’m glad you like it. The surprise is we’re going to
swim.”

“
Swim? I don’t know how to
swim.”

West looked at her aghast.

“
When would I have had the
opportunity to learn how to swim?” she demanded.

“
True enough. But it’s not
deep everywhere, only directly under the falls.”

Sara frowned. “What if there are
crocodiles.”

“
There aren’t.”

“
Piranha?”

“
None.”

She scowled. “I don’t want to get my
clothes wet.”

“
Then take them
off.”

She’d known that was coming and her
scowl deepened.

With a look of innocence that amazed
her, West said, “I won’t look.”

She actually snorted.

“
Come, Sara,” he said,
suddenly gentle and seductive at once. “You leave
tomorrow.”

“
Unfair,” she muttered as
he place his warm mouth against hers.

Suddenly, he turned away, pulled off
his boots, pants, and underclothes, and splashed into the pool like
a little boy. Sara’s eyes were transfixed by his muscled buttocks
and she bit her lip in indecision. It would be wicked to swim naked
with a man. It would be tempting them beyond what Sara knew they
could endure. When they lay together in bed, they were fully
clothed, knowing how dangerous it would be. Why was he doing
this?

He dove into the water, coming up with
a hoot and blowing water from his mouth.

“
Come in, Sara. It’s
perfectly safe.”

She lifted a skeptical
eyebrow.

“
Please, Sara.” He lifted
up his hand and she relented.

“
All right. But no looking
and no touching.”

“
No looking,” West agreed
readily.

“
And no
touching.”

“
Not even a little? Not
even a kiss?” He had that boyish innocence written all over his
face again and Sara didn’t believe it for a minute. She didn’t even
want to believe it.

Turning her back, mumbling to herself
that she would regret this for the rest of her life, she began to
undress, stopping when she reached her chemise, the last barrier
between her and a man she knew would not only look but would
certainly touch.

“
All of it, Sara.” West’s
voice was husky and low, and Sara felt a familiar pooling warmth
between her legs. She took off her chemise.

When she turned around, she was almost
disappointed to see West had turned his back. She walked
tentatively into the water, ready to retreat with a scream if she
felt anything brush up against her leg, her eyes trained on West’s
broad shoulders. Perhaps he was a man of his word, she thought,
frowning. No sooner had that thought entered her head then West
spun around. Sara automatically covered her breasts with her hands,
and then, slowly, deliberately, lowered her arms to her sides. Her
nipples were painfully erect from the cold water, from the
excitement of having West look at her with such heat. She heard him
let out a shaky breath.

He walked to her, the water receding
until his arousal was visible. Sara shot a look down then snapped
her eyes back to his face. The thick lashes around his beautiful
eyes were spiked, making them even more pronounced. Water dripped
from his hair, down his lean, freshly-shaved cheek. He was
glorious, Sara thought, her entire body charged, her senses
heightened. When he was inches away from her, he bent his head and
took one nipple into his mouth, sucking hard, touching her only
with his mouth, his tongue, until she nearly collapsed and he was
forced to put his arms to her waist to hold her steady.

“
Do you remember on the
ship, Sara. How we made love?”

She could only nod.

“
I want you to know that I
want to be inside of you.” She let out a small sound at the back of
her throat. “Here.” He put one hand between her legs, and she was
slick with more than just water. “Good God, Sara, you tempt
me.”

He kissed her then, stealing her
breath, her heart, her soul. He pulled her against him so she could
feel the hardness of him, the desire raging through his blood. His
hands went to her buttocks, kneading, before he pulled her up so
she rode him just above his hips. She wrapped her slim legs around
him and crossed her ankles at his back. She could feel his arousal
between her legs, knew how close they were to truly making love,
and she tried to shift, to put him inside her. He held her steady,
letting out a low groan.

He began to move her, causing a
delicious friction for them both, as he dipped his head to take one
hardened nipple into his mouth. She wanted, wanted, wanted him
inside.

“
Please, West. I don’t
care. I don’t…” Her breath caught as he shifted subtly, as he
pressed his length against her core and created a rhythm that was
maddeningly wonderful. She moved against him, rubbing, her body
slick with desire, searching for the release she knew was so close.
“Oh, oh…” She moved her hips, instinctively knowing how, but
unknowingly driving West to the brink. It came upon her slowly,
building with such intensity, she cried out, pressing hard, her
entire body jerking. Seconds later, while she still throbbed, still
moved her hips in her release, West stiffened and groaned. He was
shaking as he carried her deeper into the pool, until she felt
weightless and wonderful.

“
Don’t let me go,” she
said, realizing just how deep they were.

“
Never.” West kissed her
long and hard, then pulled back to look at her. “I would never let
you go.”

Sara stood on the beach staring at the
ship that would take her to San Francisco, away from West. He came
up behind her and set a small carpet bag at her feet.

“
I wish…” He stopped and
drew her against him. “This is for the best,” he said, finally, and
Sara closed her eyes against the pain those words brought. They
were not what she wanted to hear. She wanted him to tell her he
loved her, that he wanted to marry her and only her. She wanted him
to tell her to wait for him.

“
I have something for you.”
She turned in his arms to see what he had brought her. He presented
a long, flat object: a busk. It would slip into her corset, a
constant reminder of him, kept close to her heart. It was the most
intimate of gifts, and Sara smiled past the pain looking at
it.

“
It’s beautiful,” she said.
He had carved daffodils on it, intertwined with intricate vines,
one of which formed something that looked very much like a heart.
She wondered if it was intentional or happenstance. Her fingers
traced the carving and she smiled.

“
I will never forget these
months with you, Mr. Mitchell.” Then she shook her head, disgusted
with herself for her cowardice. She ought to tell him, finally, how
she felt. She took a bracing breath, the kind one takes before
jumping off a pier. “I love you, West. I’ll wait for you if you
wish it.”

Please, please tell me I
should. Please
.

His eyes shifted away from her and she
had her answer.

“
Perhaps I should not have
said that,” she said, smiling so brightly her cheeks
hurt.

West did not smile, could not even
look at her. “No. Perhaps you should not have. I am going to be at
sea for years, Sara.” It did occur to him that he’d asked Elizabeth
to wait for him, asked her with no real care whether she would or
not. Perhaps this was why he could not bring himself to ask, for
what if something happened to him? What if she returned home and
fell in love with someone else? The loss would be too great and he
could not bring himself to face it, not with so much
uncertain.

“
Sir, this is the last boat
other than the captain.” As it was, the small boat was filled with
provisions and there was hardly room for Sara.

“
Good bye, Sara. And God
speed.” He pulled her to him for one final embrace, one final kiss,
before letting her go. She gave him a tremulous smile and allowed
the seaman to carry her and her bag to the boat so her dress would
remain dry.

Captain Crowley came up beside him.
“Always difficult leavin’ ‘em behind, eh?”

“
Yes. It is.”

“
How much time you got on
your trip, son?” the older man asked.

“
Two years. At least.” Two
years. God, how could he have let her go? How? He already missed
her and he could still see her golden hair swirling around her head
as the boat approached the ship. The boat would return for the
captain and the last of their provisions, and then she’d be gone
forever. He should have asked her to wait for him. He should have
begged her to stay. My God, what kind of fool was he?

Without a sound, he ran back to the
Tillinghasts and burst into the missionary’s office. “I need pen
and paper. Quickly,” he said to the startled man. He wrote quickly,
signing his name with a flourish, hastily poured sand on the note,
and ran out the door, letting the wind dry the ink the sand had
missed. By the time he got back to the captain, the boat was nearly
at the beach.

“
Captain Crowley,” West
said, folding the note and handing it to the captain. “I wonder if
you would be so good to give this to my wife.”

“
Of course, sir.” The
captain tucked the note into his jacket and gave it a small pat.
“Don’t worry, my boy, she’ll be safe with me. God
speed.”

“
And to you, sir.” He
watched the captain slosh through the water, joy filling his heart
where despair had just been. What he could not say aloud to Sara,
he had written.

One day after Sara left him standing
on that beach, his heart full, a typhoon of frightening magnitude
struck the island. The Tillinghast’s home and school escaped
terrible damage, other than a small section of roof that had pulled
away. West was frantic with worry about Sara, who found such storms
so frightening. The ship she was on appeared a sturdy vessel, but
he had no idea if the ship could weather such a storm unscathed. It
took days and sometimes weeks to hear news of a ships that were
damaged or, God forbid, sunk in such storms. The fastest way was to
signal other ships and ask them of news.