“I did exactly what I wanted to do tonight. Stop taking yourself so seriously,” she said, reaching for her car door.

He reached out and caught her hand. She looked around in surprise. Her eyes widened when she saw his blazing expression. His hand moved to the back of her head, cupping her to his palm in an increasingly familiar gesture. He brought her to him, seizing her mouth. He kissed her furiously. She’d thought the volcano of their passion had quieted for the night, but she’d been wrong. She felt herself submerged in the heat all over again. Arousal expanded at her core, an undeniable ache. He abruptly tore his mouth from hers and spoke next to her parted lips.

“Do you want to teach me how to lighten up, Emma?” he growled softly.

She swallowed with difficulty, her body vibrating with reawakened arousal. “I think someone should,” she managed.

“Fine. Then just be prepared for the darkness during the attempt.”

Her mouth fell open, but she wasn’t sure how to respond to his remark.

“I’ll come and get you tomorrow after you finish your shift,” he said.

She nodded. Then he was turning and getting out of the car. And Emma was cast right back into that churning sea of doubt and longing.

She slept in the next day until noon, only to awake to sunlight blazing through the miniblinds. It seemed to burn away the vestiges of her dreams—dark, erotic dreams that held her fast in its clutches, dreams that had nothing to do with the beauty of what had happened last night on that beach.

That was what she’d focus on, that indescribably moving experience. And she was going to see him again tonight . . .

She bounded out of bed and flipped open the blinds, staring out onto a gorgeous July day. A day reserved for the young and healthy, she recalled Cristina saying. Emma wasn’t so sure about that, but it did feel like a wonderful moment to be alive. It was like everything was freshly minted, a golden sheen applied during the night. Amanda gave her a surprised look when Emma entered the kitchen humming cheerfully after her shower.

“What’s got you in such a good mood?” Amanda asked as she rinsed out a cereal bowl. Emma belatedly recalled her breakup with Colin—and Amanda’s part in it—and realized how odd her presentation must be to her sister.

“Nothing. It’s a pretty day, that’s all.”

“You look great,” Amanda said, her gaze skimming over another new outfit Emma had purchased over the weekend, this one a simple body-hugging black V-neck and a new pair of jeans that did especially good things for her legs and hips. She noticed Amanda’s focus on the necklace he’d given her. Her sister’s expression grew suspicious. “Are you not telling me something?”

“Can’t a girl be in a good mood?” Emma asked as she poured some juice.

“Sure, I guess,” Amanda said slowly. “Emma, have you met someone?”

Jeez, first Cristina, then Montand, now Amanda. She really needed to stop being so transparent. Amanda distractedly hit the switch for the garbage disposal. Emma lunged over to the sink, hoping Amanda would forget her question. They both watched in satisfaction as milk, water, and leftover cereal were sucked down the drain in an instant. They looked at each other and shared a grin. For a few seconds, it was like they were twelve and ten all over again and they’d never even heard the name Colin.

Reality hit Emma, and she turned away. She was trying to make peace with Amanda. It was just hard.

“I can’t believe our apartment is fully functional now,” Amanda said, attempting to smooth over the awkward moment.

“Yeah. I’m still in shock,” Emma admitted.

Toby Martin had been true to his word and fixed everything in their unit, even though it’d taken him the better part of three whole days to do it. What confused Emma was his amiability and downright cheerfulness at doing all the work that had been postponed for so long.

“Emma . . . I’ve been meaning to speak to you about what happened on Sunday when you saw Colin and me in the parking lot. I wanted to explain.”

“You don’t need to,” Emma said, sipping her juice to neutralize her sharp tone.

“He was really worried about . . . everything.”

“He was worried about you,” Emma said levelly. “Are you going to see him tonight?”

Amanda looked stunned.

“I know you’ve seen Colin every night since Sunday,” Emma continued. “Just be honest, Amanda. Are you going to see Colin? Regularly?”

Amanda nodded uncomfortably. “I’ll make sure he never comes over here,” Amanda whispered.

Emma sighed and set her glass down on the counter. “No. That’s not necessary. This is your home.” She glanced around at Amanda. “Maybe try to do it when I’m not around, though? At least until I get used to things?”

“Maybe it’s not a good idea to have him here at all,” Amanda said miserably.

“Don’t worry about me, Amanda,” she said, getting sick of being perceived as the tragic victim in all this. “Believe it or not, part of me wishes things work out between you and Colin.”

“Really?”

Emma met her sister’s stare and nodded. “If you guys end up euphorically happy together, if it becomes obvious you two were meant to be together . . . then at least I’ll be able to make sense of what you did,” she said before she walked out of the kitchen.

The brilliant day and her glow about what had happened the previous night stood in direct contrast to the bleak mood hovering in Cristina’s bedroom suite when she arrived that afternoon. Emma took one look at Maureen Sanderson’s drawn face and knew her patient had reached the end of her days.

“Is she still with us?” Emma asked quietly when Maureen joined her in the living room of the suite.

“Only just,” Maureen said.

“Did she ask to speak to Montand?”

“No. She wants to speak to you. I held off on giving her afternoon pain meds because she asked me not to. She seemed worried she’d go before you got here.”

Emma nodded and promised to call Maureen if anything happened on her shift in regard to their patient. She took a deep breath to center herself and stepped into Cristina’s bedroom. After taking one look at Cristina’s bleary-eyed expression and hearing her wheezing breath, Emma knew neither Maureen or she would be returning for work at the Breakers tomorrow.

“Hi, you,” Emma greeted Cristina warmly when she saw her eyes were open. “Let me prop you up a little bit,” she said when she saw how Cristina had slumped on the pillows. “Are you comfortable, Cristina?” she asked a moment later. Cristina nodded. She seemed to want to speak, but was conserving her energy. Her lungs rattled with collected fluid as she laboriously gasped for air. Cristina nodded significantly toward the windows. Emma looked around at the draped wall of glass.

“The windows? Do you want me to open the curtains?” Emma interpreted.

Cristina nodded, her anxiety evident even in her waning state.

Emma immediately opened the drapes. Sunlight reflected brilliantly off the sealike stretch of water. She turned, only to see Cristina staring out at the lake and the sunshine, transfixed. A film of tears shone in her rheumy blue eyes. Emma sat in the chair near the bed when she saw Cristina start to speak.

“Such a beautiful place to die,” Cristina whispered.

Emma’s heart lurched. The phone in the bedroom suite began to ring shrilly, jarring her out of the poignancy of the moment. She recalled Montand’s direction to keep the drapes closed. Cristina had specifically made the request for her to open the curtains, however, and Emma wasn’t going to deny her dying wish because of his inexplicable demand.

She started to go answer the phone, but it stopped abruptly midring.

“Here . . .” Cristina beckoned with her outstretched hand. Emma sunk down in the chair next to her bed and took her hand.

“What is it?”

“I’m sorry,” Cristina whispered between gurgling gasps.