"I love you, Catherine. No matter what happens I will always love you.

You are everything good in my life. It will kill me to let you go. "

"Then I won't let you," she said, wrapping her legs around his waistand tightening her arms about his neck.

He stepped into the tub and settled himself, still holding her astridehis body, feeling his engorged manhood caught between them. The hot water covered them, lapping over the edge of the tub and spilling tothe floor. Neither felt the small burned places on their skin. The fire of their kisses obliterated the pain and made more precious themiracle of their escape. The emotion that surged up inside them waslike a flower, opening to the sun, petal by petal.

His skin was salty as she brushed her lips across his chest, and alonghis neck. He tasted only sweetness, a full dizzying sweetness thatoverwhelmed and gentled his rough motions. His hands stroked her face and hair.

Her mewing little whispers urged him on.

"I won't ever let you go again. Our child needs a father."

"Our child?"

"Yes, Patrick. We are to have a child in the spring."

Patrick's heart raced at such a pace that he couldn't speak. There was no breath in his lungs, no air in the room.

"A child? You're carrying our child?"

"I am, and I expect you to make an honest woman of me immediately. I don't expect to bring a bastard into this world."

Bastard. His son a bastard? Patrick's heart felt as if it had come to a dead stop.

"Never! But how?"

"I'd think that was rather obvious, my Irishman. The instrument is that magnificent part of you that is caught between us."

"Oh, Catherine, I almost lost you!" He lifted her so that his mouth could claim hers, fierce and possessively. She responded by openingher lips and taking his tongue inside, inviting him, telling him thatshe was his, totally and forever. All that she ever was, or hoped tobe was his.

There was a breathlessness inside her, a quivering that centered in thespot that now cradled the male part of him. She remembered that first night, here in Isabella Angel's Heaven, when he didn't know it was shein his arms. He had been rough that night, for a time, then he'dstilled his movements and loved her so gently. He'd given her a childand tonight, he'd love her again.

She gasped as his hands closed over her breasts, cupping them as herubbed his thumbs across her nipples, then took one nipple into his mouth. She flung her head back, offeringherself to him without restraint.

Awareness dissolved into only the hazy sensation of touching and beingtouched. The inner warmth began to flame hotter and to move upward toher breasts and his mouth. His fingertips splayed across her ribs anddown, exploring every plane of her body, every new sunburst of heatthat erupted beneath his touch.

For Patrick, his need for her rose, like some spring bubbling to thesurface. He felt his body tightening, holding back, and he forcedhimself to wait until that moment when she crossed over the line of restraint and went wild with wanting.

She cried out, pleading, begging as he lifted her, letting his manhoodfind that place where it was meant to be. Stilling himself for amoment he basked in the wonder of sensation that erupted as theyjoined. Then she leaned forward, savagely capturing his lips with herown as she began to move, riding him, imploring, asking and, at thatultimate moment of response, tearing her lips away in a cry ofecstasy.

The bathwater was cold long before they soaped each other and washedthe soot and ashes from their hair. They ate before the fire, feedingeach other tiny slivers of fish and sweet cakes of rice. Patrick's hair was golden again and his blue eyes laughed with merriment as shefed him fruit with her lips and took it back again.

Later, as she sat wrapped in a blanket, Patrick dried her hair,threading it with his fingertips and spreading it across her bareshoulders to dry.

"When are you going to marry me, Patrick?"

The time had come to face the thing he'd pushed to the back of hismind, the thing that made it all impossible.

"You know this isn't settled yet," he answered in an oblique way.

"I.

may not be accused of murder, but I'm not a free man. There's still the matter of my piracy and my prison escape. "

"I've been thinking about that," she said softly, resting her head

against his chest."Patrick McLendon is a planter who owns a cotton plantation. Stoneisn't. Patrick McLendon isn't a pirate. Stone is.

Patrick McLendon is getting married, not Stone. ""But Stone and Patrick are the same person.""I know that. Charles knew that. But the world doesn't.""And worst of all, Catherine, I know it. I've given you a child, but I can't give you my name with honor. I would never allow my son to be a bastard, but at this moment, I don't know what to do."

She turned around in his arms, lifting her face to the light.

"What would happen if Stone found a way to pay back what he's stolen?"

"Stone is broke. He couldn't buy one of your pigs in a mudhole.

Without being a thief there's no way he could find the money to pay back what he's stolen. "

"Maybe everybody he owes isn't entitled to be repaid. I was thinking

of another way."

"I'm afraid to ask, Catherine, but what were you thinking?"

"An orphanage, or a shelter for families. That's it! With the fire

burning everything, people are going to have a hard time for a

while."

"So Stone, the pirate, is going to build a shelter and buy the dismissal of charges against him? How?"

"Well, Charles told me something I didn't know. I

have a dowry. The judge arranged it, quite a nice one, from whatCharles said. We could use that for a start. ""I don't think that would be nearly enough.""But, wait, there's more. You recall that reward that Charles collected for turning Stone in?"

"Yes, though I didn't know he collected it."

"He did. And then on the way to watch your hanging, he was robbed, by

an Indian and a black man."

"Jillico and Pharaoh?"

"I think so. Would that be enough? I could contact the governor and

ask."

"No. You will do nothing. I will think about what I--what we will do

and then we'll decide. You must let me do this. Will you agree?"

"Perhaps," Catherine began, biting back her smile of amusement overPatrick's attempt to be stern.

"I never want to be accused of trying to make decisions for you,Patrick, but it is very late. Perhaps we could... I mean I'd like tosuggest that if you're agreeable, we go to bed and consider thisfurther."

"To bed? To consider pirates?"

"Well, one particular pirate anyway."

"No, wait. There's another little matter I want to talk about first.

Stand up. "

Catherine complied, allowing the blanket to fall to the floor.

Patrick's eyes didn't blink as he looked at her. She was a vision; herbody the color of honey, as translucent as a pearl and yes, round whereonce there was only slenderness.

He dropped to his knees, laying his cheek against her stomach for along gentle moment. With a kind of wonder he drew back and spread hisfingers across her stomach, planting little kisses over every part ofher.

"Is it really true? Is there a child, my child?"

"Yes, there must be, for I find I can no longer eat pork, and I'mgetting very plump, don't you think?"

He leaned back and looked at her.

"No, you are very small, mayhap too small to carry my child. I've heard it said that can make a birth difficult."

"Patrick darling, what is to be, will be. Besides, you have the magicof the little people to help. Won't they help me now as well?"

She was right. She had been from the beginning. What would be, wouldbe. All other options had been eliminated. This was now and there was no point in worrying her with his fears. He searched for a way to pushaway that familiar darkness that seemed to reform inside him.

He wanted to give her everything. He wanted her to have pearls,beautiful garments to wear and a fine house to live in. That was what he'd planned. And yet here they were, in a house of pleasure, in aforeign land where he'd become an outlaw. But for now, none of thatmattered. Just this moment in time.

"Sure and begorra!" he said, sliding his hands around her waist as hesmiled.

"I can see it now. You are growing very plump. Soon the little peoplewill have to transport you by horse and wagon, instead of sliding overthe rainbow."

Catherine nodded her head, glad that he'd joined in the game.

"That means there'll be no room for treasure when we find it."

"The treasure is here, darling'," he said, growing quite serious oncemore as his hands played about her hips.

"It's just that I am quite large, Catherine, for a wee one like you."

Catherine looked down at him and grinned.

"You're right about that. I can see one part of you that is verylarge. And, my bonny Irishman, this small person has learned well howto take care of that." She reached down and touched him.

He groaned.

"You have, have you?"

"Oh, Patrick, my love, do not fear. Come lie with me."

The second time they made love slowly. They listened to the sound ofthe rain falling on the window ledge and bouncing inside. There were slow, deep kisses, gentle movements that spoke of care and giving.

Until finally they lay in each other's arms, spent and content.

Outside the storm died down, rolling past the hill and down river toNew Orleans, where the city was already planning to rebuild. Catherine and Patrick had cleansed themselves of doubt and pain as the rainwashed away the grime of the fire. As with the indigo fields, newseeds were already sprouting, seeds of the future, all their futures.

"I still don't understand why we don't just jump over a broom and callourselves married," Patrick grumbled as Catherine shoved him out thedoor of the room where they'd spent the night making love.

"And don't you think it's a little late to tell me that I must sleepalone?"

"Absolutely not. You will not share my bed again until we're properlymarried by a preacher, Patrick McLendon. Either you find one, or ourchild will be born in sin."

Isabella, who'd just come into the hallway, laughed and hid the painshe felt every time she saw Patrick look at Catherine.

Patrick gave up, as Catherine knew he would, and made the concession toher wishes by sending for the preacher from the settlement atWeatherby's Trading Post.

Mavis Weatherby brought the wedding gown that had come from Petersburgwith Catherine all those months ago. She didn't comment on the alterations they were forced to make for Catherine to wear it, nor onthe cradle that Pharaoh and the slave girl called Consuelo brought as agift.