Captive Embraces by Fern Michaels Page B

never tempt the fates by pretending to have lost the Lady at sea. But I’m certain Regan is safe and sound. He’s much too expert a seaman to become a casualty at sea. Besides, how many times he’s boasted that he has more lives than a cat.”
    â€œJa,” Frau Holtz grumbled. Her heavy brows came together in a look of consternation. Even cats only had nine lives and Regan’s colorful and adventurous past would seem to suggest that he already had outdone that number.
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    Three days later neither Sirena nor her crew had found any information about Regan. It was only known that the Spanish Lady had gone down off the coast of Spain as she traveled toward Cádiz.
    Each time Sirena had gone in search of details concerning Regan she had started out in high spirits, certain of learning his whereabouts. Each evening she had come back to the Rana more defeated than the day past. Her crew searched earnestly for word of Regan van der Rhys, but they too returned to the ship without news.
    Sirena’s optimism began to flag. She had tried in vain to locate Señor Arroya, Tio Esteban, the Córdez family business manager. She knew without a doubt that if Regan had come into Cádiz, he would have seen Esteban Arroya concerning the takeover of the Córdez fortunes. But Tio Esteban was somewhere in Salamanca and was not expected to return for several months.
    At first Sirena considered going to Salamanca in search of Tio Esteban, but the possibility of missing him somewhere along the way was deterring. She had to be doing something, anything! Besides, no one in his offices could give her assurance that he had not traveled on to Italy to visit with his daughter who had married a banker from Milan. The prospect of sitting in Cádiz awaiting her uncle’s arrival grated on Sirena and all indications pointed to Regan having gone under with his ship.
    Hour by hour Sirena puzzled the problem, becoming more depressed and fearful. Regan! Regan! Her heart cried. She squeezed her eyes shut and prayed. “Please, God,” she whispered, tears welling behind her lids and gathering on her thick lashes. “Please, God. Give Regan his life, don’t let him be dead. Please, God, please. I was such a fool, I should have listened to him, I should have left Java with him. Forgive me for putting my grief for my dead baby above the love I have for my husband. Above You, God. We’ve all lost so much, suffered so much. Me, Regan, Caleb. Please, don’t let me lose the only love in my life. Please, God, please!”
    On into the night Sirena prayed, and it was morning when Frau Holtz found her slumped beside her narrow bunk, tearstained face at last peaceful in sleep, her sister Isabella’s rosary clutched tightly in her fist.
    Sirena refused to eat her breakfast as well as her lunch. She stayed secluded in her cabin, thoughts of Regan whirling through her head. She remembered how on their last night together, they had battled each trying to impose their will on the other. She shed bitter tears when she recalled how long she had pushed Regan from her. How many nights she had lain in her solitary bed castigating him over and over in her mind, refusing to regard his need for her, refusing to admit that she needed him. And when at last they had found one another again, it had been like a sip of cool water after an interminable dry trek on the desert. They had sipped and then drank deeply, at the well of love and tenderness they were each capable of giving. And after their loving they had lain in each other’s arms, at last finding peace.
    And now this torment. If only she knew for certain whether Regan lived, or had died at sea. She couldn’t go on this way. This not knowing was killing her as surely as an arrow through the heart. And there was no one, nobody to whom she could go! She had rejected not just Regan, but Caleb as well. How unfair she had been, how selfish! Caleb was more than a son to