The ocean stretched on for countless miles before him. The gulls disappeared a few days ago, too far gone from land now. It was a hopeful place to be, stuck there on the deck of a ship bound to England. And yet the woman behind him had made the voyage a difficult one.

He turned, looking over his shoulder to Vera, who sat stretched out on a deck chair. He had tucked her in so she wouldn’t catch a chill. Her face was tilted up toward the sun, her eyes shuttered. And he was struck, a man begging from crumbs from the woman he loved who no longer wanted him in her life.

But the tide was changing there, too. Last night over dinner, she had held a polite conversation with him, even graced him with a smile over her wine glass. If Owen had one mission now, it was to win back Vera’s heart.

He pushed back from the railing and strolled over to her, peering down at the beautiful lines of her face. Her cheeks were pink, her long blond hair perfectly coiffed Her hat sat on her lap.

“You’re in the sun, Owen,” she said, not opening her eyes.

He drew back, realizing he was casting a shadow over her. “I apologize. I thought—”

Those dark eyes of her opened and she turned her head, assessing him, waiting.

Owen sat down beside her instead. “Would you care for some tea?”

He owed her his life. The shot he sustained to his chest nearly killed him. Vera had pulled him out of the jungle on a makeshift gurney, all the while with a broken ankle she had secured with branches as a brace. By the time they arrived in town, the doctor used her blood for a transfusion to save him.

“Vera,” he said, his voice breaking from the pain of it all. He had been a bastard. He deserved this, and more. But that didn’t make it any less pleasant to endure.

“Life is so much more complicated than I thought it would be.” Vera pushed herself up, adjusting the blanket over her legs. Her honeysuckle perfume swelled around him with the crisp ocean air. “And now that Tom is gone, I don’t know what to believe anymore.”

“What do you need me to tell you?”

She leaned closer, her eyes sweeping over him and his mouth. “The truth, Owen. That’s all I ever wanted.”

He scratched his jaw and inhaled, surveying the mostly empty ship deck. A couple strolled past, leaving Owen and Vera alone. He reached for her gloved hand, feeling a twist in his chest when she didn’t withdraw. With his free hand, he tugged the chair closer to hers so that they faced one another. It would appear like an inmate yet proper moment between a husband and wife, which they were on this ship. Traveling under such a lie when Owen wanted it to be truth was hell.

“What I’m about to tell you must never...” The weight of the confession pressed against him. “I work for the Home Office, Vera. I worked with your brother.”

She swallowed, her eyes narrowing in him. “A ...,” she lowered her voice to a hushed whispered, “spy?”

He nodded, picking at the knee of his trousers. He thought this moment would feel better. He imagined being able to finally share such a large part of his life and feeling as though he were freed. Instead, he felt trapped. It was because of his work, he could never have Vera as his wife.

“When we met, I was recovering from a mission in the Philippines. That is why I was home that summer in England. And when we met…” he paused as he bit his lower lips, his gazed locked onto hers. “I’ve never been the same.”

Vera withdrew her hand, her mouth pulling into a tight line. When she finally looked to Owen, tears swam in her eyes. “I thought it meant nothing. When I first walked into your tent here, you were so dismissive.”

He reached forward, brushing the tears away with the back of his hand. “How could I ever forget you, love? Christ, I wanted...” He stopped himself from admitting he wanted to marry her just then. “Tom told me you were engaged to another last spring. I thought it best...”

“I was, but my fiancé died from the Russian flu.” She placed her free hand over his. “He was very kind, very supportive of my attending Girton. But Owen, it’s always been you,” she whispered. “Even when I was with him, I wanted you. But what choice did you give me? You left without a word.”

He stood, sweeping her up in his arms. In a few long strides, he had them in the privacy in the empty conservatory room. He kissed her nose, then feathered more along her cheek, before his mouth sought hers in a hungry, desperate kiss.

When they broke for air, she smiled up at him, her eyes still teary. “All this time, I thought it was nothing—I meant nothing.”

He shook his head. All this time, she had meant everything, and he was too damn afraid to admit it to himself. She deserved the world and Owen was determined to be the man who provided her with it. He wouldn’t be far from her again.

“What’s going to happen when we get back to England, Owen?”

“I’m working that out myself, lass.” He kissed her forehead. “Come on,” he said, kicking the door open with his boot. “I plan on making good use of us traveling under the assumption we’re husband and wife.”