“You trust him.”

“Don’t you?”

“I’m a bit slower with that than you might be, but he strikes me as true enough. And there he is, after all.” He tapped the sketch.” Well, I’m after a walk on the beach. Come with me.”

“I haven’t even unpacked.”

“What’s the hurry?” Smiling, Bran rose, offered a hand. “It’s just a walk down the cliff steps.”

She should unpack, organize her tools, but she found herself putting her hand in his. “All right. I want to find some good perspectives to sketch or paint anyway.”

“There, you’ve found your sensible reason for a walk.”

“I think for the rest of you, adventure and risk come naturally.”

“And you think you’re the quiet and settled sort.”

“I am the quiet and settled sort.”

“Not from where I’m standing. You’re the most courageous among us.”

Stunned, she gaped at him as they circled toward the stone wall. “Courageous? Me? Where do you get that?”

“The rest of us? We knew what we were after, and why, and why we came here. But you?” He walked to the pillars and gate, opened it. “You left your home, came all this way, not knowing. And when you saw Riley, you walked right up to her, you risked telling a stranger a story you didn’t understand yourself. That’s courage.”

She looked at him, the dark, compelling eyes, the way the wind blew his hair around his face. And the yearning came back into her, so strong she had to look away.

“I don’t feel brave.”

“You don’t recognize your own bravery. That’s all it is.”

He took her hand again, started down the rough steps.

“They’re really steep.” And high.

“But look where they’ll take us. I like a fine beach, though I often find myself more drawn to the forests and mountains. What are your mountains?”

“The Blue Ridge.”

“Lovely, are they?”

“Yes. Lovely, and peaceful. I can’t think the last time I was at the beach. Anywhere.”

“It can be lovely and peaceful as well. See there, that high point?”

Her stomach jittered as he gestured toward the promontory. “Yes.”

“And the bit of land there, the channel of water between? It’s called Canal d’Amour, that channel, and it’s said if you swim there, from one end to the other, you’ll meet the love of your life. That’s a pretty thought, isn’t it?”

“Do you believe in that? Not the swimming part, but the love of your life part? That someone—anyone—loves for a lifetime?”

“Absolutely.”

“So you’re a romantic.”

“I wouldn’t have thought. My own parents have been married over thirty years, and not just because they have four children and are used to each other. They love and enjoy each other.”

“You have siblings.”

“I do. A brother and two sisters, so my mother’s fond of saying, she balanced it all out well with two of each sort. And that was enough of that.”

“It’s nice, a big family.”

A deaf man could have heard the wistfulness, Bran thought. “It is, yes.”

“Do you get back to see them?”

“I do, of course, and they travel to me from time to time. We’re a noisy bunch—not quiet and peaceful at all—when we’re all together. And here we are, at the bottom.”

She’d barely noticed the rough climb down. “You kept me talking so I wouldn’t panic.”

“You don’t panic so easy.” The last step was a drop. Bran jumped down easily, turned to take Sasha by the waist and lift her down. Then stood, testing both of them, with his hands on her. “Do you, fáidh?”

She knew the taste and feel of his mouth on hers, the way his hands moved on her skin, the angles of his body under her own.

And the need to know all that outside of dreams was far too strong.

“Maybe,” she said, and stepped away.

“There’s something you’re not telling me. I can see it.” He tapped a finger between her eyes. “Why is that?”

“We all have secrets, and when we find the other two, they’ll have them. I guess trust doesn’t run deep enough yet.”

“Hardly a wonder in this short a time. Well then, we’ll take what we have.”

What they had was golden sand and blue water. People, yes, but only a few sunning under the warm spring rays or sitting under the shade of an umbrella. Some children digging with plastic shovels, others wading in the surf.

“I expect the beaches closer to Sidari are more crowded than this, though,” Bran continued. “From what I’ve read, there’ll be plenty who’ll jump from the seawall into the canal, hoping to find their true love. That would make a fine painting, I’d think. The rock, the water, the hopeful who take the leap.”

Intrigued by the idea, Sasha stopped, looked back. The colors, the textures, the angle of light. A figure, she imagined, poised to leap, another caught on the jump between wall and water. Perhaps one more with speared fingers just meeting the surface. She should have grabbed her sketch pad, then she could—

She saw a flash, something shimmering like jewels in the sunlight sliced out of the water. An instant, an instant only of sparkle and foam, of swirling blue, then gone.

“Did you see that?”

“See what?”

“In the canal. Something . . . It came out of the water, then in again.”

“I didn’t see, but I was looking up.”

“It was beautiful, like a sweep of jewels, just glittering in the sunlight.”

He laid a hand on her shoulder. “The stars?”

“No, no, it was sinuous, and alive. The movement. Some sort of fish?”

“A dolphin maybe.” He took his hand, fisted it lightly around the hair she’d tied back, skimmed it down. “Looking for true love.”

“A dolphin.” And the idea of a dolphin swimming the canal hoping for love made her smile. “It must’ve been. It was only a second, but it was gorgeous.” With a sigh, she walked again, with the sea air flowing around her.

CHAPTER FIVE

She finally unpacked, and felt she’d restored some order to her world. Then she walked out on the terrace to marvel at the view that would be hers for . . . as long as it was. She hoped to see the dolphin again—it must’ve been a dolphin, and the sunlight and water that had given it the illusion of shimmering blues and greens.

While she’d thought she’d sit out with her sketch pad on the terrace, she realized she didn’t want solitude. Instead, she took her pad and pencils and went out to look for . . . her team.

Sawyer had called them that—a team. And she’d never been a part of one before. It felt good, even oddly comforting. Remembering, as part of that team, she was likely in charge of dinner, she went to the kitchen first to consider her options.

She wished she knew how to make some traditional Greek meal, but failing that, she could do a pasta dish she often made herself at home, as it was quick and easy, and it appeared she had everything she needed at hand.

Logically she’d quadruple what she normally did, but that didn’t take into account two of the four were men, and Riley ate like a starving wolf.

“So just make a lot,” Sasha told herself. And it if didn’t work, well, someone else could be in charge of the kitchen.

She stepped outside, just breathed in, wondered if she’d be allowed to cut some flowers for her room, for the house. She recognized lemon trees as the yellow fruit basked in the sun, and the dusky leaves of the olive, the orange trees. But others were beyond her, including the cactus with large flat leaves and gorgeous blooms.

She took a moment to sketch one, then wandered on, past the vegetable garden, the coop where chickens clucked and pecked in their little fenced yard. Past shrubs of rosemary, toward the pool where she saw Riley and Sawyer in what appeared to be an animated conversation as they sat facing each other on white padded chaise lounges.