The beautiful face drew close to her. Soft full lips touched hers, and that touch was pure light, obliterating the last of the darkness.

She flared to life again, at last fully present.

He crushed her to him, sobbing in relief.

She cuddled in his arms, liking the connection to this man. My hero. My husband. The father of my child.

At last, she remembered the terror that stalked her. “Chris…” Her breath

caught as agonized horror broke over her.

“Yes, love?” Pure tenderness warmed his tone.

“The baby. Did the baby survive? No, it's not possible. I'm so sorry. I tried to

stay awake and protect the baby, but Father hit me so hard. I couldn't, I—”

“No,” Christopher protested, interrupting her. “The baby is fine.”

She swallowed hard, forcing down her tears. “What? How? He… he

stomped…”

“I stopped him,” Christopher explained. “I was just at the top of the stairs.

I'm sorry I didn't get there in time to stop him from hitting you, but he never got

to the baby. You've been checked several times and there's no sign of problems.”

He placed her hand on her belly, so she could feel the little movements.

Her mouth opened. “Fine?”

“Yes.”

“Oh, thank the Lord. Thank you, Christopher. I was so afraid… I said I didn't

want a baby… But now I do… I couldn't bear the thought that…” she

stammered.

“No. That didn't happen.”

She nodded, exhaling in relief. “Father?”

“Gone. On a boat to America. We're safe from him.”

“Good.”

He cupped her cheek. “Oh, Kat, are you really back with me?”

“I think so.” Now that her fears were relieved, the pain in her head and muscles and the empty ache in her stomach blossomed to life.

“Thank God. I was so worried.” He kissed her lips again.

She tried to pull him closer.

“Easy, love. You have to be still.”

Sharp pain speared through her. “My head hurts.”

“No doubt. You have a fractured skull, but it's healing.”

“That explains why I'm so dizzy.”

“It might also be hunger. You haven't eaten in days. Can you stand to eat, love?”

“I think so, but you'll have to help me. I… I can't sit up.”

“Of course. Kat?”

“Hmmm?”

“I love you.” He rose and rang for a maid, his eyes remaining fixed on his wife as he waited. She gazed back, feeding her fragile soul with the pure love flowing between them.

A middle-aged woman in a dressing gown poked her head in the door and

beamed to see the young woman finally awake.

“Could you get my wife some broth and some tea, please,” Christopher

asked.

The woman nodded and hurried from the room.

Katerina tried to swallow, but her dry throat turned it into a cough.

Christopher poured a glass of cool water from a pitcher on the table by the bed.

Then he sank back onto the mattress beside her and helped her sit partially upright against a pile of pillows behind her back, so he could raise it to her lips.

She took a deep sip. “Can you forgive me, love?” she asked, finally fully awake.

“For what?” he asked.

“The attack. It was my fault.” She closed her eyes as a tear slipped down her

cheek.