to the devil when he hasn’t one of his own!”
Andres flinched as though she had slapped him. He stepped back, his hands falling from her face, and turned away from her in a jerky motion.
“
I
’
m sorry
!” The words were torn from her in horror; she felt sickened by her own cruelty. “That was … unforgivable.”
“Do you really think me a devil?” he asked, low.
“No. No, of course not.” Sara had her arms folded protectively against the sudden chill of the night. She was conscious of the hot trickle of tears down her cheeks, and it felt as though some vital barrier inside her had ruptured. “Please … please, Andres, stop this. Stop me. Let me go.” She wasn’t even sure what she was saying, except that it had nothing to do withleaving the island, but she was at least sure of the knowledge that they could hurt each other so terribly.
“I can’t.” His voice was strangely calm.
“You have to.” Her recognition of the awful power they held over each other made her voice shake. “Don’t you understand? I’m like an animal in a cage trying to tear my way out. I—I’ll hurt you without meaning to.”
“Sara …”
“I can’t give you what you want! There’s too much between us, too much I don’t understand, too much I’m afraid of.” She dimly wondered where her anger had gone. Now there was only this sense of desperation, this terrifying recognition that they were both somehow connected—and caught up in something that neither could control. “I don’t have the strength for this!”
Andres slowly turned back to face her, though he didn’t step closer. In the dimness of the garden he was a shadowy presence, big, curiously featureless. “You have the strength,” he said in a deep, still voice. “You
must
have it. I can’t stop this. I can’t let you go. You haven’trealized … Heart of my heart, the love I have for you is the best of me. And what will I be if I lose that?”
Sara couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. His words shocked her, frightened her, moved her unbearably. The understanding that she was so terribly important to him was a burden, and she staggered under the weight of it. “No.” Her voice almost wasn’t there. “No, don’t say that.”
“I have to. You must know it.”
She realized she was backing away from him only when she felt the jab of a bush behind her, and when she put her hand back automatically, the pain caused by thorns was barely noticeable. He had forced from her the admission that she wanted him too badly to be able to fight him, or even to hate him afterward; she had shown him her own vulnerability where he was concerned, had given him the power to hurt her dreadfully.
But Andres had stripped away his armor as well, with a single, jarring admission of his own, and with that admission he had given her the power to all but destroy him.
“Sara …”
She was running, and she didn’t stop until her bedroom door was closed behind her. But she didn’t escape him. She couldn’t run away from him this time, she knew. This time there had to be an ending between them.
Late the following morning, Captain Siran, who had remained in his small boat that had been tied up at the dock overnight, sat on the cramped bridge writing a short note. He was ready to leave Kadeira and head back toward Key West, and manners required that he inform his host of his intentions. Manners, and the fact that Sereno’s naval fleet took a dim view of boats leaving the harbor without proper permission.
Siran would have used his ship’s radio to inform the president, but Sereno had sent word that his enemy could intercept radio transmissions now because of recently acquired equipment, and that it perhaps would be wiser to tell Lucio as little as possible. Captain Siran had no problem with that—except for one small thing.
That morning Hagen had radioed a very brief message.
Out of habitual caution the federal maestro had coded his message, but Siran
Andres flinched as though she had slapped him. He stepped back, his hands falling from her face, and turned away from her in a jerky motion.
“
I
’
m sorry
!” The words were torn from her in horror; she felt sickened by her own cruelty. “That was … unforgivable.”
“Do you really think me a devil?” he asked, low.
“No. No, of course not.” Sara had her arms folded protectively against the sudden chill of the night. She was conscious of the hot trickle of tears down her cheeks, and it felt as though some vital barrier inside her had ruptured. “Please … please, Andres, stop this. Stop me. Let me go.” She wasn’t even sure what she was saying, except that it had nothing to do withleaving the island, but she was at least sure of the knowledge that they could hurt each other so terribly.
“I can’t.” His voice was strangely calm.
“You have to.” Her recognition of the awful power they held over each other made her voice shake. “Don’t you understand? I’m like an animal in a cage trying to tear my way out. I—I’ll hurt you without meaning to.”
“Sara …”
“I can’t give you what you want! There’s too much between us, too much I don’t understand, too much I’m afraid of.” She dimly wondered where her anger had gone. Now there was only this sense of desperation, this terrifying recognition that they were both somehow connected—and caught up in something that neither could control. “I don’t have the strength for this!”
Andres slowly turned back to face her, though he didn’t step closer. In the dimness of the garden he was a shadowy presence, big, curiously featureless. “You have the strength,” he said in a deep, still voice. “You
must
have it. I can’t stop this. I can’t let you go. You haven’trealized … Heart of my heart, the love I have for you is the best of me. And what will I be if I lose that?”
Sara couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. His words shocked her, frightened her, moved her unbearably. The understanding that she was so terribly important to him was a burden, and she staggered under the weight of it. “No.” Her voice almost wasn’t there. “No, don’t say that.”
“I have to. You must know it.”
She realized she was backing away from him only when she felt the jab of a bush behind her, and when she put her hand back automatically, the pain caused by thorns was barely noticeable. He had forced from her the admission that she wanted him too badly to be able to fight him, or even to hate him afterward; she had shown him her own vulnerability where he was concerned, had given him the power to hurt her dreadfully.
But Andres had stripped away his armor as well, with a single, jarring admission of his own, and with that admission he had given her the power to all but destroy him.
“Sara …”
She was running, and she didn’t stop until her bedroom door was closed behind her. But she didn’t escape him. She couldn’t run away from him this time, she knew. This time there had to be an ending between them.
Late the following morning, Captain Siran, who had remained in his small boat that had been tied up at the dock overnight, sat on the cramped bridge writing a short note. He was ready to leave Kadeira and head back toward Key West, and manners required that he inform his host of his intentions. Manners, and the fact that Sereno’s naval fleet took a dim view of boats leaving the harbor without proper permission.
Siran would have used his ship’s radio to inform the president, but Sereno had sent word that his enemy could intercept radio transmissions now because of recently acquired equipment, and that it perhaps would be wiser to tell Lucio as little as possible. Captain Siran had no problem with that—except for one small thing.
That morning Hagen had radioed a very brief message.
Out of habitual caution the federal maestro had coded his message, but Siran
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