sensed him holding back. His fingers, sometimes unsteady, skimmed over her as if he feared she would vanish.
“I won’t leave you,” she murmured, then gasped when his mouth, suddenly urgent, found her breast.
She arched beneath him, hands stroking, body as fluid as the water that scented it. When he looked at her, her hair damp and tumbled on the blanket, her eyes clouded with what he brought her, he shuddered with power.
And made her fly. She cried out, a long, full-throated sound that rippled through him and made him feel invincible. When she opened for him, offering him her innocence, he trembled.
Through the rage of blood, the pound of need, he struggled to be gentle. Still, he saw the flicker of shock.
“Only for a minute.” Delirious, he ran kisses over her face. “I promise. Only for a minute.” Then he surrendered to the demands of his body and took her.
Her hands fisted on the blanket, and she bit back thefirst cry. But almost as soon as the pain began, warmth replaced it.
“Oh.” Her breath shuddered out again, on a sigh. “Of course.” She turned her lips to the side of his neck. “Of course.”
And began to move under him. She rose and took him deeper, fell and drew him with her. When warmth simmered to heat, their bodies grew slick. Clinging, they took each other.
When she lay wrapped in his arms, half dreaming, the candlelight burned gold.
“This is where she found him.”
Sam traced his fingers over her shoulders. He couldn’t stop touching her. The lazy sexual haze clouded his mind so he forgot all he’d thought of on the beach. “Hmm?”
“The one who was Fire. The one who’s mine. This is where she found her silkie, in human form, and fell in love while he slept.”
“How do you know?”
She started to say she’d always known, but shook her head instead. “She took his pelt and hid it away so she could keep him. For love. It couldn’t be wrong when it was for love.”
Basking in the afterglow, Sam nuzzled her neck. He wanted to be here, with her. He wanted nothing, no one else. Never would. Never could. Now, the realization steadied rather than unnerved him.
“Nothing’s wrong when it’s for love.”
“But she couldn’t keep him,” Mia said quietly. “Years later, after they’d had children, after she’d lost her sisters, her circle, he found his pelt. He couldn’t stop what he did. It was his nature. Once he’d found his pelt, nothing, not even love, could make him stay. He left her, went into the sea, and forgot she existed. Forgot his home, and his children.”
“It makes you sad to think of it.” He held her tighter. “Don’t be sad now.”
“Don’t leave me.” She buried her face against his shoulder. “Don’t ever leave me. I think I’d die, as she died, alone and heartbroken.”
“I won’t.” But something went cold inside him. “I’m right here. Look.” He shifted so that they faced the cave wall. Lifting a finger, he laid it on the stone. Light sparked from his fingertip and etched words into rock.
She read the Gaelic and her eyes misted. “ ‘My heart is your heart. Ever and always.’ ”
She lifted her own finger, carved a Celtic knot beneath the words. A promise of unity.
She turned those swimming eyes up to his. “And mine’s yours.”
Alone in her house on the cliff, Mia turned her face into her pillow. And murmured his name in her sleep.
Four
T he rain, a steady, drumming splatter, began before morning. It rode on a kicky little wind that had the tender green leaves shivering and foamed the surf. Throughout the day it continued to blow and spit, until the air was raw with damp, the sea as unremittingly gray as the sky. It showed no signs of abating by evening.
It was good for the flowers, Mia told herself as she stood at the window and stared at the unbroken dullness of the gloom. The earth needed a good soaking, and despite the chill, there would be no frost to damage delicate buds.
The first fine day, she
“I won’t leave you,” she murmured, then gasped when his mouth, suddenly urgent, found her breast.
She arched beneath him, hands stroking, body as fluid as the water that scented it. When he looked at her, her hair damp and tumbled on the blanket, her eyes clouded with what he brought her, he shuddered with power.
And made her fly. She cried out, a long, full-throated sound that rippled through him and made him feel invincible. When she opened for him, offering him her innocence, he trembled.
Through the rage of blood, the pound of need, he struggled to be gentle. Still, he saw the flicker of shock.
“Only for a minute.” Delirious, he ran kisses over her face. “I promise. Only for a minute.” Then he surrendered to the demands of his body and took her.
Her hands fisted on the blanket, and she bit back thefirst cry. But almost as soon as the pain began, warmth replaced it.
“Oh.” Her breath shuddered out again, on a sigh. “Of course.” She turned her lips to the side of his neck. “Of course.”
And began to move under him. She rose and took him deeper, fell and drew him with her. When warmth simmered to heat, their bodies grew slick. Clinging, they took each other.
When she lay wrapped in his arms, half dreaming, the candlelight burned gold.
“This is where she found him.”
Sam traced his fingers over her shoulders. He couldn’t stop touching her. The lazy sexual haze clouded his mind so he forgot all he’d thought of on the beach. “Hmm?”
“The one who was Fire. The one who’s mine. This is where she found her silkie, in human form, and fell in love while he slept.”
“How do you know?”
She started to say she’d always known, but shook her head instead. “She took his pelt and hid it away so she could keep him. For love. It couldn’t be wrong when it was for love.”
Basking in the afterglow, Sam nuzzled her neck. He wanted to be here, with her. He wanted nothing, no one else. Never would. Never could. Now, the realization steadied rather than unnerved him.
“Nothing’s wrong when it’s for love.”
“But she couldn’t keep him,” Mia said quietly. “Years later, after they’d had children, after she’d lost her sisters, her circle, he found his pelt. He couldn’t stop what he did. It was his nature. Once he’d found his pelt, nothing, not even love, could make him stay. He left her, went into the sea, and forgot she existed. Forgot his home, and his children.”
“It makes you sad to think of it.” He held her tighter. “Don’t be sad now.”
“Don’t leave me.” She buried her face against his shoulder. “Don’t ever leave me. I think I’d die, as she died, alone and heartbroken.”
“I won’t.” But something went cold inside him. “I’m right here. Look.” He shifted so that they faced the cave wall. Lifting a finger, he laid it on the stone. Light sparked from his fingertip and etched words into rock.
She read the Gaelic and her eyes misted. “ ‘My heart is your heart. Ever and always.’ ”
She lifted her own finger, carved a Celtic knot beneath the words. A promise of unity.
She turned those swimming eyes up to his. “And mine’s yours.”
Alone in her house on the cliff, Mia turned her face into her pillow. And murmured his name in her sleep.
Four
T he rain, a steady, drumming splatter, began before morning. It rode on a kicky little wind that had the tender green leaves shivering and foamed the surf. Throughout the day it continued to blow and spit, until the air was raw with damp, the sea as unremittingly gray as the sky. It showed no signs of abating by evening.
It was good for the flowers, Mia told herself as she stood at the window and stared at the unbroken dullness of the gloom. The earth needed a good soaking, and despite the chill, there would be no frost to damage delicate buds.
The first fine day, she
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