Dane ordered a line tossed to him and a long boat lowered.

The sea suddenly became wild, waves cresting high, smashing against the hull, pitching the frigate like a cork buoy bobbing against the swells.

Ramsey swam.

Frightened, her body still feeling the wrenching energy, Tess stumbled away from the rail, pulling Dane with her. "Dane, please!"

He grasped her shoulders, forcing her to see beyond her panic. "He's too far, Tess. And look at him, he wants to go." She did look.

Near the curtain, Ramsey turned and raised an arm to wave, his smile broad, excited. Suddenly the tendrils of mist wrapped around his chest, lifting him out of the water and pulling him into the blackness. Then he and the wall vanished, and once again the sea calmed, the waters a pure aqua blue.

Ramsey O'Keefe was gone.

In the stunned silence of the crew, she turned into 407.

Dane's embrace and cried, "Oh G.o.d, he doesn't realize-he won't survive."

"You did." He gently rubbed her back, his gaze riveted to where he'd last seen his closest friend. Blood of G.o.d, if he had not laid witness to it, he would never have imagined such a sight!

She sniffled, raising her head. "But I went back in time! It's possible he went forward!" No one would ever know where he'd end up exactly.

"Do not underestimate Ramsey, my love," he said calmly. "He's resourceful. And mayhaps-?"

"He'll find love? His heart mate?" It peeved her Dane wasn't more upset.

He brushed a wisp of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. "I've come to believe anything in our universe is possible." She smiled weakly; her presence was proof of that.

Shudders trembled through her as she laid her cheek against his chest, studying the calm, blue ocean. Yeah, he'd wanted to go, no doubt about that. Tess couldn't fault him; he was the adventurous sort, anyway. Oh, Ramsey, she thought with a secret smile, are you in for one h.e.l.l of a surprise!

Dane tightened his embrace, then gave a nod of deep respect to the sea. Tess was his- forever. The chance that she'd be taken from him was gone, thanks to the Triton's master.

408.

EPILOGUE.

A Few Months Later Grayson Blackwell smiled at the woman sleeping in his son's arms as the carriage rolled down the long drive to Coral Keys.

"I still cannot believe she convinced me to free all

the slaves." *

Dane's head turned from the view out the carriage window, and he smiled at his father. "They stayed on, did they not?"

"But the cost-"

"We can well afford to pay them, and 'tis only reaso-"

Grayson put up a hand. "Spare me, son," he said with a grin. "She has won already."

"She does have a way of getting what she wants." Dane plucked a drooping curl from her cheek. "In truth, Father, I never dreamed I could be this happy," he admitted, placing a kiss on the top of her head.

"Nor I." The la.s.s filled the emptiness in his heart, 409.

Grayson thought, where it had been so brutally gouged. "Have I told you how much I admire your choice of a bride, Dane?"

"Thanks, Papa," Tess said, sitting upright.

Dane grinned. "You little sneak."

"Playing possum has its merits."

Grayson threw back his head and laughed, and Dane's smile widened. Everyone felt Tess's zest for living, and it showed even in his father. Gone was the stooped, disheartened gentleman; in his place was the strapping man Dane had known as a youth. Tess had done that. She'd taught him not to feel guilt over Desiree's death and bullied him into taking charge of a life lost because of Phillip.

"Ahh, home at last,'* Tess said, bounding out of the carriage the second it stopped.

Grayson glanced at his son and shook his head. " Tis a wonder you are not drained of all energy attempting to keep up with that woman," he said, alighting from the carriage.

Dane followed, smiling wickedly. Twas energy well spent.

Feminine laughter tumbled into the foyer as Tess swept the velvet cape from her shoulders and tossed it to the waiting servant. Dane leaned against the doorframe, watching as she whirled around the room with an imaginary partner.

"Oh, Dane. This has got to be the most exciting week of my life. Imagine, the honor of dancing and dining with the President!"

" Twas he that should feel honored, my love. I fear George will never be as he was after meeting you."

410.

She faced him. "I can't believe you call him George!"

"Bah!" Grayson snorted. "He is simply a man, my dear." *

Tess grinned, coming over to them. She knew exactly what Dane would look like in thirty years; he was the image of his father, though a bit taller and less gray. She never had the heart to tell Dane that the Rothmeres would someday own this house; the pain was too new. But she was working on a plan, one that would take two hundred years to put it back in the hands of a Blackwell.

"Just because you don't agree with some of his policies, Papa, doesn't mean they don't have potential."

Dane covered a chuckle.

"What were the two of you discussing so intensely that evening?" Grayson wanted to know.

"Land battle strategy."

Grayson's eyes widened. "Surely he did not listen-!"

"And why wouldn't he?" Her hands were on her hips, lips pressed tightly, and Dane knew that stance too well.

"I think I shall graciously retire now," Grayson said, chagrined, backing toward the stairs.

"A wise choice, Father."

Tess's features softened, and she caught Grayson's arm, walking up the staircase with him. She glanced back over her shoulder to Dane, and he nodded, his lips twitching.

"I don't need tucking in bed, young lady," he gruffed.

411.

"Humor me. I don't have a father, except you." His lips curved. "And I want to make sure you're comfortable and happy."

"Then you'd do well to see that room filled." He gestured to the nursery.

"It will certainly be my pleasure to try."

He chuckled. Saucy wench, he thought, kissing her cheek, then disappearing into his bedchamber. "Only one brandy tonight, Grayson," he heard as he shut the door.

Dane dropped into a stuffed chair, prying off his shoes and wiggling his toes. He was deliriously happy and feeling more fit than ever, the latter attributed to his wife's insistence that he dine on foods not swimming in cholesterol or cooked to death, as she chose to put it. Her two hundred years of knowledge certainly was an advantage.

He sipped his brandy, watching the amber liquid swirl and coat the gla.s.s. She had conceded to more than anyone could imagine to be his wife. And Dane's heart swelled with love every time he thought of her sacrifice, thanking G.o.d every day she'd sailed into his century.

"Hey, pirate."

He looked up, his eyes widening as she sauntered across the room, slipping her arms out of her gown. He swallowed, his gaze absorbing her graceful moves as she revealed her slim, muscled body to his hungry eyes. His manhood reacted with amazing swiftness.

"The door?" he managed.

"Locked."

"And Father?"

412.

"Asleep."

She paused before him, and Dane could do no more than stare as she shoved the midnight blue gown and petticoats down over her hips, then stepped out, kicking them aside. She loosened her hair, shaking out the inky ma.s.s before hooking her thumbs beneath the tiny ribbons at her hips and slowly tugging the panties down. She flung the silk sc.r.a.p onto the pile, then took the drink from him, setting it aside as she climbed onto his lap. Suspended from a thin gold chain around her throat was a single marquis diamond. It was all she wore. "Your father wants grandchildren. Think we can accommodate him?"

"Here?" His hands moved up the curve of her bare b.u.t.tocks. "In the parlor?"

"Yup." Her b.r.e.a.s.t.s swayed as she freed the b.u.t.tons to his breeches with agonizing slowness. "Too many people to wake up upstairs, you know." Her mouth hovered close to his. "The bed creaks, and with you and that great hip action - "

"G.o.d's teeth, Tess," he breathed, "you never cease to shock me."

"Yeah, pirate, and you love it." He crushed her to him, staring deep into eyes soft as smoke. "Ohh, aye, my witch, that I do." He claimed her mouth as she claimed his body. The voyage of the Sea Witch was over, harbored tenderly in his loving arms. She was home-just in time. .

413.

"Romance is everywhere. I'm surrounded by real-life heros and heroines with incredible tales of adventure, separation, and enduring love," says Amy J. Fetzer, in regards to her globe-trotting life with her Marine husband. "How could I not write about it?"

At the sale of My Timeswept Heart, a 1992 Golden Heart finalist, Amy J. Fetzer lived in Okinawa, j.a.pan, with her husband, Robert, and their sons, Nickolas and Zackary. She encourages readers to write to her, through Zebra Books of course, because she never knows where she'll be living next.

415.

end.