Free Hours to Cherish by Heather Graham Page A

respect for the sanctity of marriage.
    They had been married less than a month. Cat told Clay she didn’t want him to go.
    “Don’t be ridiculous,” he informed her. “Salvage is my job.”
    “I mean it, Clay, I don’t want you to go.”
    She had seen the hard twist to his jaw. “You’re my wife, Cat, not my keeper. I’ll be damned if I’ll be dictated to by you.”
    The nights that he was gone were torture. And then she decided that neither was Clay her keeper. Despite her father’s rigid disapproval, she took to scouring the seas herself, leading the lodge’s dive parties, actively participating in all social events.
    One night found her on the terrace with a handsome young diver from California. Cat was missing Clay, and resenting him, too. She intended to ease her hurt with a mild flirtation, just friendly words to try and convince herself that she was appealing, that Clay hadn’t married her because he knew her father wished it, because Jason held keys to the sea.
    Cat pushed her luck a little too far. Just as she was attempting to disengage herself from the arms that had crept around her, Clay appeared. She would never forget his eyes that night.
    He cut in, claiming her, just as the young Californian grew insistent. “I can understand where you might want to throttle this lady, friend, but sorry, I’d have to stand in the way. I’m her husband.” As he led her away, he muttered something about throttling her himself.
    She was frightened of his anger; more frightened that he had spent his time away with other women. He didn’t really love her. Only her forcing his hand and her father’s promise had given him to her.
    The argument that followed was terrible, but it ended passionately in bed. Yet when the storm had passed, the seas had not been calm. Clay curtly informed Cat she was his wife, his property, and that was that. If she wasn’t careful, she’d find herself left under lock and key.
    Cat’s pride wouldn’t allow her to tell him that all she wanted was not to be left.
    He was gone again in a few days. This time, his success was heralded across the world. He had recovered a treasure chest of José Gaspar the pirate off Cudjoe Key.
    Before he returned, Cat cornered her father. She insisted to know the truth of what she had overheard. Jason had admitted that he had expressed an opinion to Clay about wishing to see her married and that he had also demanded immediately that Clay consider nothing less than marriage.
    “You always needed a strong man,” Jason tried to tell her. “I knew what you were feeling, I know you love him. And he does love you, Cat. And with me in poor health, you’ll need someone to help you.”
    “Oh, Dad,” Cat murmured, “you know no matter what happens, I’ll be able to take care of myself.”
    “I know, Cat. But aren’t you happy with him?”
    “Of course I’m happy,” Cat assured him. “Very happy.”
    And she was, at times, when the strange truces would come between them. But Cat learned then how it hurt to love too deeply. If she ever learned to lose this feeling, she would never allow it to come again.
    And yet, if she had known at that time that she stood a chance of losing him, she would have forgotten her pride and all else. She would have welcomed him home with open arms, admitting all that frightened her, begging that they spend more time together.
    But as it was, she didn’t know how to handle her hurt when he returned. And so she greeted him as cold as ice.
    Clay, in turn, was grim and brusque. He refused to allow Cat to remain cold; his devilish laughter, touched with bitterness, rang dryly to her ears when he managed with pathetic ease to seduce her in their bed.
    And too soon he was leaving again, and he was holding her close, and she was clinging to him.
    “What’s wrong between us, Cat?” he asked softly.
    A pain had torn at her and she had answered honestly. “What can be right, Clay, when you don’t love me?”
    “What?”
    “I