He groaned again, louder this time, and squatted to the floor, pushing his fists into his eyes. He was in obvious pain. I wanted to reach out to him, but I knew I couldn’t.

“Don’t do that.” His voice was jagged. “That was the single most difficult thing I’ve done in my entire life.”

He stood again, the sight of his body slamming into me full force.

“I don’t understand, then,” I whispered.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” His voice edged on frantic. “And don’t think for a second I don’t want you—” He had to stop and growl at this, pressing his knuckles to his forehead. “It shouldn’t be like this,” he said.

“Like what?” I asked.

“Uncommitted. In a hotel room.”

“Then commit,” I said. His face tightened and he held his arms out in frustration.

“I can’t!” he shouted. “And I’m not taking your virginity. You would regret it.”

He turned away from me, leaning his forehead against the wall. He was still out of breath as he slid downward, turning and slumping in the corner of the room, elbows on his knees, face in his hands.

I let the meaning of what had just happened soak in. We’d come so close, and Kaidan denied himself. For me. He’d made his very first self-sacrifice. For me. He’d defied his demon father. For me.

A vibrant energy rushed through my body as the pieces slammed into place. Oh, dear Lord. I was in love with him. And there wasn’t a thing on earth, in heaven, or in hell that could have stopped me.

In that moment of shocking realization, he turned to me and stared. My emotional guard was down. I snapped my mind back into hiding mode, but it was too late. He’d seen it. I held my breath for his reaction. He closed his eyes and let his head drop to his chest, posture slumping. Not the response of my dreams.

I focused, finding it difficult to contain the hugeness of my emotion for him. Now that I saw it for what it was, it was all-encompassing. I closed my eyes and kept it hidden with every scrap of willpower in me.

I stood, still hugging the pillow, and walked quickly over to retrieve my shirt from the top of the television. Dropping the pillow, I pulled the tank top over my head and buttoned my shorts. I needed to leave—take a walk to clear my head and give him time to himself.

And then the phone rang. Oh, geez!

He didn’t move, so I walked over to the nightstand where it lay and peeked at the caller ID. My heart leaped and my fingers fumbled to pick it up and press the green button.

“Hello?” I said.

“Miss Whitt? It’s Sister Emily.”

“Is she awake?”

“I’m so sorry, dear. Sister Ruth has gone to be with the Lord.”

What?! My stomach plummeted and I sat hard on the bed, a profound sense of loss inundating my soul.

“No,” I whispered.

“I’m afraid so. Several years ago she had a will drawn up, and she left everything to you. I’ve gone through her personal effects and there was only one thing besides her clothing and her Bible. A small box. Can you come to the convent?”

“Yes. I’ll be right there.”

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

GETTING ZAPPED

Nestled within the big city was the small convent, quaint and hidden among a border of evergreens, overshadowed by the larger orphanage next to it. It wasn’t the kind of place that would attract interest from tourists. It would go easily unnoticed by most locals, too.

Kaidan pulled the car through the open gate. Past the trees and a small lawn was a simple, two-story faded brick building, overrun on the sides by vines. We parked in a gravel area and looked at the building. I remembered it, only without as many vines.

We’d been silent the entire ride. I wished I could somehow ease the tension between us, but it had to run its course. Things had shifted tonight. In a big way.

“I’ll wait here,” Kaidan told me. I got out and made my way to the entrance on a cracked concrete walkway. The early evening air was still hot, but made bearable by the sweetness of honeysuckle in the air.

At the door, I read the small placard: convent of our mother mary. I pulled up on the heavy brass knocker and let it fall three times. A young nun answered wearing a long-sleeved flowered dress falling below her knees, with white tights and sandals. Her hair was pulled into a bun, and a crucifix hung around her neck.

The sister touched a hand to her heart. A thin stream of navy blue grief ran through the lavender peace in her aura. “You must be Anna. Thank you so much for coming.”

She invited me into the foyer area and gave me a warm hug, which I needed, even from a stranger. As she left to retrieve the box, I looked around the creamy walls of the foyer and felt comforted. I could remember being there in Patti’s arms as she said good-bye to Sister Ruth sixteen years ago. There was still a fountain against the wall, trickling a stream of water like a rush of nostalgia.

The young nun came down the wooden steps and handed me a small box. It was over a foot in length and sealed with layers of tape.

“Thank you for everything,” I told her.

“You’re welcome, dear.” She clasped her hands in front of her. “I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to meet Sister Ruth. She was the most precious soul I’ve ever known.”

“I’m sorry, too.”

She dabbed at her eyes with a handkerchief, and I felt the huge regret of loss as we hugged one last time and I turned to leave.