Too used to Riley’s driving to worry about it, she half dozed on the short drive back to the villa, imagining curling up on her bed in her quiet room and napping.

“Got some things I want to check into.” Riley got out as the dog trotted over. “Told you we’d be back.” She gave him a good rub. “Same deal tomorrow, so I guess we should work out a strategy, try at least one of the more challenging dives.”

“Can I take the jeep? I want to pick up a few things,” Sawyer explained.

“We were just in the village.”

“Didn’t want to hold everybody up.”

With a shrug, Riley tossed him the keys.

“Can I go with you? Can I shop?”

“Oh, well . . .” But Sawyer made the mistake of looking into Annika’s sparkling eyes. “Sure.”

“Man down,” Doyle commented.

“Later, you can get the coins out, Bran. I’ve got a contact who’ll give Annika a fair price on a few of them. I can sort those out, and we can make that stop before we get on the boat in the morning. You’ll have some actual spending money,” Riley told Annika.

“Shopping money.”

“Yeah, that, too. I’ll touch base with him. Bring that back in one piece,” she added, and walked toward the villa with Apollo.

“Got work of my own.” Doyle trailed off behind her.

“You should pick up some fresh supplies.”

Sawyer shot Sasha a look as he got behind the wheel. “Hell. Yeah, I figured. I’ll work it out.”

“I want new earrings.” Annika jumped into the passenger seat.

“What is it with women and earrings?” Sawyer wondered.

“They’re pretty. Bye.” She waved to Sasha and Bran. “We’re going shopping!”

“May the gods take pity on him,” Bran stated, then took her hand to lead her toward the terrace steps.

“I feel like I should do something productive. It’s not even three in the afternoon.”

“Productive.”

“I should sketch out what’s in my head, what I saw today. The light in the cave. I want to capture that. And I know I shouldn’t try when I feel this lazy.”

“Then you’ll capture it when you’re not. Meanwhile . . .”

He turned into her room with her, booted the doors closed, then whipped her around to press her back against them.

“I think this is where we left off.”

He took her mouth, and took her under.

“Now?”

“Oh, absolutely now.” He took his lips on a lazy journey along the column of her throat. “Do you have a problem with that?”

Everything inside her sparked. “No. No, now would be fine. Now would be good.” His hands skimmed up to brush over her breasts. “Now would be wonderful.”

Wanting, willing, she wrapped around him, thrilled by the rush of her own pulse, the flood of her own needs. Needs she’d locked away for so long spun free—and there was such joy in them.

She laughed, only a hint of nerves, when he turned her again, walked her backward toward the bed with his mouth still hungry on hers.

Then she was tumbling back, and he with her. And oh, what a sensation, the weight and shape of his body pressed to hers, to feel her own yielding to it. His hands, so strong and sure, molding her like clay until her blood ran hot under her skin.

She wanted to touch him, feared she’d fumble something as she fought to pull off his shirt. She wanted her hands on flesh, on muscle.

“I need to tell you—”

His teeth scraped lightly down her throat; her fingers dug into his shoulder blades.

“In case I do something wrong . . .”

“Nothing could be wrong.”

He flipped open the buttons of her shirt, his lips following his fingers.

“It’s just— I might. Oh, God, this feels amazing. I’ve never done this before so I might make a mistake.”

She realized she’d just made one when everything stilled. She closed her eyes, asked herself why, why, couldn’t she have just let it go, just said nothing until it was done.

“Not done what before, exactly?”

She opened her eyes, found his, so dark, so intense, on hers. “Sex. I shouldn’t have said anything. Why does it have to matter?”

He shifted, sitting up, drawing her with him. And she felt all the joy and delight leak away into mortification.

“Of course you should have told me, and of course it matters.”

“You either want me or you don’t.” She dug for anger, for anything that would cover the humiliation of tears that wanted to spill.

“That’s not the issue. It matters,” he repeated, taking her arms when she tried to turn away. “In approach, in tone. The first shouldn’t be rushed and greedy, and I was feeling both.”

“Since I was feeling the same, why can’t we just—”

“Because you don’t know. But you will.” He lifted her hand, turned it over to lay a kiss lightly in her palm. “If you’re sure. It’s a gift that can’t be taken back.”

“I’m sure. I want to feel what you make me feel. I want to be with you. Now.”

“Then trust me.”

“I couldn’t be here if I didn’t.”

“We want moonlight and stars.” As he spoke the room went dusky blue. Lights—candles? stars?—glimmered through it. “The song of the sea, the scent of flowers.”

She heard the waves, like a whisper as he laid her back on what had become a bower.

“You’re so much more than you’ve shown us.”

Illusions, he thought, but the moment called for them. And for romance, and tenderness. He found he had them for her, and could call on them as easily as he could whistle up the wind.

He cupped her face with one hand, took her lips slow, slow, deep, deeper, until he felt her melt into his bed of feathers and flowers.

He could seduce, degree by degree, give them both the sumptuous. She smelled of the sea, tasted of honey. And under his hands her skin was soft as satin.

On impulse he ran his hands through her hair, scattered tiny rosebuds through it. Looked down to enjoy the way it spread and tumbled over his bower.

“You look like a faerie queen. If I had your gift, I would paint you just like this. Or . . .” He waved a finger through the air, and she was naked but for a scatter of flower petals.

“Oh!” Instinctively, she lifted a hand to cover her breasts, but he caught it, brought it to his lips as he skimmed his gaze over her.

“Yes, just like this. I’m commissioning you to do this self-portrait. Name your price,” he murmured and took her mouth again.

How could she have known she could float and fly, could soar and dive all at the same time? That she could burn and shudder. And want, want, want.

His mouth took hers with soul-deep kisses and whispered words she didn’t understand. And his hands glided over her, awakening fresh thrills.

His thumbs brushed her nipples, then his tongue, stirring something deep in her belly. Then his mouth closed over her, and that stirring, that pulling flashed into a fast, shocking leap of pleasure.

She cried out from it, arched up as it struck like an arrow.

“You’re quick,” he murmured.

“What? What?”

“Just the start. Just a sample.” He pressed his lips to her thundering heart. “This time you’ll take, and taking, you give.”

He gripped her hands with his, as her touch, her explorations tempted him to rush. So he used only his mouth on her, roaming down her torso, pleasing himself when her belly quivered under his tongue.

She moaned for him, moved for him, and the mix of her need and surrender sparked like a wire in his blood. Another time he would give in to that, another time he would let that hunger loose. But now he would seduce her, now he would torment them both.

He brushed his lips over her thigh, and then his tongue along the vulnerable line beside her center. And his teeth, lightly, lightly, until her breath became long, sighing moans, until her body undulated.

He found her warm and wet, so ready to fly up again.

It was like being showered with warm liquid gold, showered with melted jewels. Every inch of her sparkled, shone, glimmered, gleamed. The world was warm and soft, and smothered in flowers, drenched in moonlight.