We’ve been at sea for three days now. I’ve heard nothing more about what is happening at home, and the few times I’ve been able to convince Linc to let me use the computer, I’ve found nothing new. Though I can’t help but worry deep inside, I know that Angelo would honor his word and call if something were wrong. He would never hurt me that way; at least I keep telling myself that he wouldn’t.

As I step onto the deck, I spot Linc sitting at a table with breakfast laid out before him and a covered plate across from him. He’s on the phone, discussing business, when I take the seat opposite him. Linc holds up one finger, indicating that he is almost done, and that’s when I notice land off in the distance. My brows scrunch together as I try to think of what island it could possibly be.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Lincoln asks as he sets his phone down on the table beside his napkin.

“What island is that over there?” I point over his shoulder and off to the left.

“Lisbon. That’s where we are headed,” Lincoln replies as he lifts a fork full of eggs to his mouth.

“Portugal?” I try to rationalize how we’ve been able to sail the Atlantic and end up so close to Portugal in just over three days. “Is that even possible? How fast does this boat go? It feels like we are crawling at a snail’s pace, yet there’s land in the distance.”

Lincoln sets his fork down and laughs, reaching across the table for my hand. “This yacht, baby, is state of the art. It runs on water jets, not propellers, so we can average between thirty-two and thirty-five knots.”

“Knots? Is that the same as miles per hour?” I’m still confused because I don’t understand boat terminology.

“Well, beautiful, thirty-five knots is around forty miles an hour, which is pretty fast for a yacht. Normally, I wouldn’t have the captain push her this fast, but I wanted you as far away as possible, and quickly.”

I lift the cover off my plate, exposing some bacon, toast, and eggs. I let what Lincoln said sink in. I’m going to be in Portugal without my passport. Immediately, fear takes over. “Lincoln, I’m without my passport. I won’t be able to get into the country.”

“Lillian, eat your breakfast and stop worrying. I have your passport.” Lincoln raises his hand. “Angelo gave it to me before we left. He is the only person who knows where we are.”

My first instinct is to not ask anything since that is what has been ingrained into me from childhood, but then I remember that Lincoln doesn’t have the same rules that my family does, and so I ask, “No one knows where we are but Angelo? Is there a plan you aren’t telling me about, Linc?”

Lincoln sips his coffee and then sets the cup down. “The only plan, baby, is to keep you safe. All I know is that Angelo wanted you safe and far away from Salvatore. I know he hurt you when you were younger, but baby, you must know that he is still willing to give up his life for yours. I’m sure he is still in love with you, even it kills me to say it. I’m glad he loves you because otherwise, I would have lost you to your family. You would have married Salvatore, and I would have been devastated to never get the chance to have you for myself.”

Lincoln stands and walks toward me, pulling the seat beside me back away from the table. He sits, resting his elbows on his knees. “Lillian, until you, I never thought of settling down. Hell, I never thought there was a woman who was worth settling down for, and then there you were. The minute I laid eyes on you the day we brought Peanut in to see you, I knew you were special, but it wasn’t until after the bachelor auction and your disappearance that I knew I wouldn’t be fulfilled without you in my life.” Lincoln pulls my hand, forcing me to stand, and then pulls me into his lap. “I can buy anything I want, whenever I want, but I could never buy the way you make me feel.” Lincoln’s lips crash against mine, taking my breath away and stirring my insides. “I’ll never let you go, so don’t even think about it. You’re mine now. Mine to protect, to cherish, and mine to love.”

My heart stops the moment he finishes his sentence. Mine to love? Is this Lincoln’s way of saying he’s in love with me? My mind starts thinking about the word ‘love.’ What it means to him. Does he want to marry me one day? Have children? I can’t stop thinking of all the possibilities his words could entail.

“Slow down. I can see the wheels turning in your head at warp speed. Don’t freak out on me now, baby. Yes, I just said I love you. Just roll with it and stop overthinking.” His eyes glare directly into mine, like he sees straight into my soul. “I love you, Lillian. Just let it sink in, so you can enjoy it.”

I climb off Lincoln’s lap and walk to the side of the boat, leaning against the railing. “Don’t jump, baby. If you don’t love me, it’s okay. You don’t have to jump.”

I know by the sound of his voice that he’s teasing, but it’s a lot to take in. Do I feel the same? Yes, of course, I do. Should I tell him I love him back? Or is it too corny to do so now that the moment has been broken?

I watch the white caps in the distance and look at the foaming water alongside the yacht as we cut through it. I don’t hear Lincoln walk to me, but I feel his arms as they wrap around me. “It’s okay, Lillian, you don’t have to say it back. I get it. It’s too soon.”

I quickly turn in Lincoln’s arms. “How you know what I’m thinking all the time amazes me.” I kiss his lips. “It’s not too soon. I’m so in love with you. You’re all I thought of while I was stuck in New York. What happened between us was serendipitous, but it was meant to be. I knew it the next day when you left and I was all alone, but I never thought you would feel the same way.” Once again, our lips lock, sealing our souls together.