"I'm takin' the job!" Janos slapped his fist into his palm. "Why the h.e.l.l not?"

"Good for you!" Opal lifted her mug of tea to him, and the others joined her.

"You know, I hate to admit it, but I'm gonna miss travelin' with you," Janos told Lock. "You ain't so bad."

"Neither are you." He took a swallow of ale. "By the way, sorry about your finger."

"You should be." Janos reached for a chicken wing, and nothing more was said on the matter as the group discussed possibilities for the future.

When the others had retired for the night, Lock and Sparrow sat close to the fire, his arm around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder and entangled her fingers with his.

"Prem said the gypsies will be moving again soon," she said.

"Where to this time?"

"Not sure yet."

"Are you going with them?" He asked that question each time the gypsies left a village or town, and the answer was always the same. He didn't know why he even bothered asking. His hair would probably go completely white by the time she decided to marry him, if ever.

Sparrow looked at him, her eyes glistening in the firelight. She shook her head. "Not this time."

His stomach fluttered and he wasn't certain if his disbelief was visible in his eyes. She smiled and looped her arms around his neck as he kissed her.

The following afternoon, Sparrow and Lock married in the temple on the outskirts of the village. Janos, Opal, Prem, and Mita witnessed the joining, and afterward the gypsies provided a fine celebration.

Lock had intended to travel alone to retrieve the money he'd buried while following Sparrow, but she insisted on accompanying him. He was glad. Another separation from her was the last thing he wanted.

Once they'd gathered the money, they'd return to Rose Cove, build a house, and then he'd find a crew of men interested in trade and begin building his ship.

Later, they set up their camp away from the others. A breeze kept the warm night comfortable. Lock turned Sea Storm out to pasture, then he and Sparrow went for a midnight swim in a nearby brook. Wrapped in soft plaid robes they'd bought each other as wedding gifts in the market that morning, they walked back to the fire.

"Are you happy?" he asked.

"Very happy." She rubbed her cheek, cool from the brook's water, against his. "Are you?"

"I've never been so happy." He kissed the top of her head and stood, walking to the wagon. She added another log to the fire then sat, giddy with joy. Since she'd met Lock, she wanted him. He'd been such a rogue back then, but somehow she'd sensed they were meant to be together.

She felt his hands brush the hair from her back and drape it over her shoulder. Warm lips touched her bare nape before he slipped a slender rope of braided brown leather around her neck and fastened it loosely. A delicate gold bird hung from the leather, and she touched it with her fingertips. "What's this?"

"Another wedding present. I bought it months ago and was waiting for the right time to give it to you."

She smiled. "It's a sparrow. Thank you, Lock. I love it."

"What about me?"

She laughed and hugged him. "I love you more than anything."

They slipped off their robes and climbed beneath the blankets by the fire, Sparrow curled against his chest. He stroked tangled hair from her forehead and kissed her.

"So this is our wedding night." She smiled, running a fingertip down his nose.

His lips turned up in a wolfish grin as he slid his hands down her back and cupped her naked b.u.t.tocks. "Good thing I don't have to waste time being gentle."

"Gentle!" She gripped a handful of his kinky hair. "Since when have you ever been gentle?"

"You always said you like it rough, Princess." He rolled her onto her back and covered her body with his, running his tongue down her neck while one hand caressed her b.r.e.a.s.t.s. "And I always aim to please."

"In what little time you work with."

His startled gaze flew to her face, and she laughed. "I was only teasing."

"Were you, girl?" He slid down her body, raining kisses over her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, belly, and hips. "We'll see if you're in the mood for humor in about an hour or two."

"What lofty goals you set." She tried to sound mocking which was difficult to do when his lips tugged at her c.l.i.t and his tongue thrust into her p.u.s.s.y, swirling and tasting. She clutched handfuls of his two-toned hair and closed her eyes, her body aflame. The marvelous, relentless lapping of his warm, wet tongue over her c.l.i.t flung her into o.r.g.a.s.m. She convulsed, moaning and panting. "G.o.ddess help me. Lock!"

She heard the laughter in his voice. "What's wrong, girl? Tired already."

"You must be joking." She gasped as he resumed the fantastic torture. "You still have a lot to teach me."

"You're a luscious student."

"I love you, Lock." Her eyes opened halfway, and she gazed at him.

He stared at her, all humor gone from his handsome face. He reached for her hands and entwined his fingers with hers. "I love you too, Sparrow."

"Say it again."

"I love you."

Sparrow knew she'd never heard words so beautiful.

Bending his head, he returned to her aching c.l.i.t and ran the tip of his tongue along the ultra-sensitive sides of it. She quivered, her legs clamping his shoulders while his hands kneaded her b.u.t.tocks and clutched her hips. This time when she came, the sensations were almost too powerful. She lay in blackness, aware only of the waves of pleasure breaking over her convulsing body.

"I need you, Sparrow," he said in a husky voice. "I need you so badly."

Sparrow reached for him, pulling him close. He slid into her, groaning with desire. Her legs wrapped around his, her feet pressing him closer, deeper, while her fingertips stroked his back and ribs. She felt his heart pounding, though his thrusts were long and slow. Soft lips covered hers in a tender kiss. His tongue rimmed her mouth then thrust inside, meeting hers. He kissed her so deeply she thought he might draw her very soul out of her body and into his. She would welcome such a joining, for she felt they already shared two parts of one soul.

Another o.r.g.a.s.m built deep inside her. The exquisite pressure was almost unbearable. He must have felt the same, for she felt his heart racing, keeping time with hers as his thrusts increased. Suddenly Sparrow exploded, her cry of pure pa.s.sion absorbed by his kiss. As she clung to him with all her strength, riding out her pleasure, she felt him stiffen and surge into her with several fast, hard thrusts. Tearing his mouth from hers, he gasped out his o.r.g.a.s.m. He collapsed, his big, hard body pinning hers to the mattress. She felt his every harsh breath mingling with hers as she languidly stroked his curly hair.

"I love you, Lock," she whispered.

"I love you, too."

She smiled as he rolled onto his side, holding her close.

Two weeks later, the gypsies broke camp.

Though Sparrow found saying goodbye to Opal and her friends difficult, her new life with Lock thrilled her. Her only concern was that he wouldn't be happy settling down. She didn't doubt his love for her, but she knew he needed pa.s.sion beyond the bedroom. Perhaps when his ship was built and he returned to sea, his adventurous spirit would be satisfied.

"Where are you going next?" Sparrow asked Prem and Mita as the two stood beside their wagon, ready to leave Rose Cove.

"Begonia," Mita replied. "It's been quite a while since we've been there."

Sparrow nodded, smiling gratefully. She knew the gypsies had avoided Begonia while she traveled with them.

"Would you take a message to my friend Shea-Ann?" Sparrow asked.

"Of course."

Sparrow embraced the couple. "I'll miss you. You're always welcome in our home."

"And you're always welcome in our camp." Mita glanced at Lock. "You, too, as long as you're with her."

"Thanks." Lock grinned. "I think."

Sparrow and Lock watched as the caravans and wagons disappeared over the hill.

"Tomorrow we'll leave," Lock told her. "Sure you want to go digging up money for the next month or so?"

"I'm not letting you out of my sight again." She grasped his wrist as they returned to their camp.

"I might not let you out of my arms again." He picked her up, kissing her neck, his beard tickling her skin.

She clung to him, giggling. "I think I can live with that."

By the end of the summer, Sparrow and Lock had collected the money he'd hidden and built a house on the outskirts of Rose Cove. Sparrow cleared s.p.a.ce for gardening and once the house was finished, Lock, along with a hired crew, began building his new ship. Shea-Ann sent a message that she and Daphne were doing well in Begonia, but they missed Sparrow and would visit as soon as she could get away. Sparrow looked forward to seeing her old nanny again, and even Lock seemed happy about Shea-Ann's visit.

"I can't wait to see her again," Sparrow told Lock as they sat down to dinner the day she received Shea-Ann's letter.

"I'm almost looking forward to seeing the witch, myself."

"When she visits, do you think you two could try to get along?" Sparrow scolded.

"If I tried to get along with her, I think she'd be terribly disappointed."

"You're incorrigible."

"Maybe once, girl, but I'm quite tame now."

"Not from what I remember about last night."

He grinned and kissed her. "I'm going to get some exercise then I'll be back and really give you something to remember."

"Modest as always."

He winked and stepped outside.

Sparrow cleared the table then followed him. She sat on the fence behind their house, watching Lock practice his martial arts forms in the field where Sea Storm grazed. She thought how utterly content she was in her marriage. Though Lock spent his days farming and working on the ship, nights were devoted to her. They talked and danced together, swam in the ocean just outside their door, and made love on the beach. Lock was an attentive and satisfying husband, and she knew he genuinely enjoyed their life together. Still, she sometimes wondered if part of him was bored.

Her gaze followed his every movement, loving the play of his muscles as he blocked and kicked. Every chiseled inch of his tall form seemed to lure her. Simply watching his long, rock-hard thighs and calves as he shifted stances was enough to make her wet.

When he finished practicing, he peeled off his sweaty vest and approached her. Rather than appearing tired by his practice, his expression was as l.u.s.ty as she felt.

"I need a swim," he said, wiping his broad chest with the rolled up vest.

"No you don't." She tossed him a coquettish look and beckoned to him with one finger. He reached for her, and she ran toward the house. He chased her, catching her with a few long strides and lifting her in his arms.

"Lock!" She giggled as his beard tickled her neck. She clung to him as he kicked open the door and closed it, placing her on a stool by the wall so she was a bit closer to his height.

His mouth covered hers, and she ran her hands over his sweat-slicked back and shoulders, feeling him slide off his trousers and kick them aside. She closed her eyes as his c.o.c.k, hot and steely like the rest of his body, slid into her p.u.s.s.y.

She fastened her legs around his waist and he growled, walked two steps to the bed, and flung them both on it.

Sparrow clutched his back, her body straining to keep time with thrusts so hard and fast she thought she might die of pleasure. Lock's warm, panting breath fanned her neck. His hands squeezed her b.u.t.tocks and caressed her ribs.

"Oh, Lock, don't stop!" she gasped, threading her fingers through the damp hair at his temples.

His mouth covered hers as he thrust harder, faster, while she wrapped her legs around him and lost herself in the ride. She cried out, desire stabbing her. Her entire body pulsed, her p.u.s.s.y clenching his c.o.c.k, her fingers gripping his hard, wet back. Tearing his mouth from hers, he growled his desire as he climaxed.

"Sparrow, I love you so much!" he gasped, his body crushing hers, but she didn't care. It was the most marvelous feeling in the world, being pinned beneath him.

After a moment, he moved slightly aside, tugging her to his chest, before they both fell into a deep, satisfied sleep.

Lightning ripped a jagged streak through the sky, disappearing into the tossing black ocean. Thunder was disguised only by the crash of waves as they washed over the deck of the sinking ship.

Waves swept men overboard while others clung to the mast or fought their way through the deadly black sea to a lifeboat scarcely safer than the vessel.

The scanty crew battled for life against the indomitable tide.

Lock leapt awake to a clap of thunder that shook the house. He threw off the sheets and reached for his trousers. Though drenched in sweat, he trembled like he hadn't since he'd been tortured in Begonia.

He knew from experience his dream hadn't been ordinary. It was real. It was clear, just as when he'd dreamed his own whipping so many years ago and the vision of Sparrow and the storm at sea, except this dream wasn't of something to come. It was happening now. He knew it, and this time, he could stop it.

Sparrow woke just as he was heading for the door.

"Lock, what's wrong?"

He heard her voice in the distance, but his mind still spun with the nightmare. He raced to the barn and guided Sea-Storm into the blinding rain, not bothering with saddle or bridle.