The steep, concrete steps leading down to the Baths of Queen Giovanna were slanted and broken, making for a treacherous path. Wet foliage half-covered the stairs, and I clung to the wooden railing to my right as I descended.

The trees suddenly thinned out, and the first glimpse of the baths came into view.

Awe distracted me, and I didn’t look where I was walking. A slick, half-decayed leaf slipped under my heel. My leg went out from under me, and panic shot through my system as the steep drop to the sea loomed.

Scott’s strong arms caught me before I could tumble over the edge. He hugged me close, steadying me. With my chest pressed against his, I felt both our hearts beating faster.

“You okay?” he asked, rubbing his hands over my body to check for injuries that weren’t there.

I let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. My butt didn’t even hit the ground. Thanks.”

He finally released me and stepped in front of me. “I’ll go first,” he announced. “Step where I step.”

I caught his wrist. “But what if you fall?”

He shot me a crooked smile. “I’m more durable than you are.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he silenced me with a quick kiss.

“Don’t argue. Let me take care of you.”

Warmth suffused my chest. This was exactly what I’d always craved: to be taken care of. For someone to see to my needs, to protect me. I didn’t always have to be the strong one. Not when I was with Scott.

I nodded my agreement, and he smiled his satisfaction.

“Hold on to the railing,” he instructed as he resumed our descent.

My hand wrapped around the smooth wood, my knuckles nearly white with the strength of my grip. I didn’t allow myself to look at the view until we reached the bottom of the steps.

My jaw dropped. “It’s so beautiful,” I breathed.

I’d traveled the world, but this was one of the most breathtaking places I’d ever seen. Clear aqua water filled a deep basin, contained by high, rocky cliffs. They completely encompassed the pool, except for an arched gap at the far side. Through it, the deeper blue of the vast Mediterranean Sea stretched to the horizon. The scene was a study in various hues of blue, the color made all the brighter for the contrast with the cliffs, which glowed golden under the midday sun.

Scott’s hand captured mine, calling my attention back to him. “Be careful on the rocks,” he warned.

I noticed then that there wasn’t a sandy beach. Rocks lined the nearly nonexistent shore that was backed by cliffs, the stones worn slick and smooth by the rolling tides.

The cove was protected enough that there were no waves here, but the water lapped up onto the shore, occasionally splashing high up toward the cliffs.

We made our way around two couples who were wading in the shallows, but otherwise, we had the pool to ourselves. I couldn’t believe there weren’t more people here. It was gorgeous, but I supposed it wasn’t well-advertised as a tourist destination. The treacherous climb down probably mitigated the number of visitors, as well.

We set the beach bag I’d brought on a large rock that was high enough to protect our belongings from the surges of water that sprayed up when a boat passed too close to the entrance to the cove. Every few minutes, one appeared through the arched gap in the cliffs, sending wake flowing into the cavern. But the enclosure blocked the sound of rumbling engines, leaving us in a quiet haven.

The sea was chilly compared to the warmth of the day, and I shivered as we waded out into the water.

Scott launched himself deeper, immediately immersing his entire body. When he popped back up, he grinned at me.

“You have to jump in. You’re making it harder on yourself by walking in like that.”

“But it’s cold,” I shrieked the last word when a surge of wake brought the water up to my navel.

He laughed. “It’s barely chilly. You’ll adjust as soon as you dip in. It feels good after being out in the heat. Come on.” He lifted his hand above the water, beckoning me.

Bracing myself, I bent my knees and pushed off the rocks beneath my feet. The shore dropped away sharply, and I immediately bobbed down to my neck.

“Oh, brrrr,” I complained, maybe a bit dramatically. I really didn’t like being cold.

Scott chuckled and swam over to me, wrapping his arms around me. “You’ll warm up. Just give it a few seconds.”

I grasped his shoulders, leaning into his chest. My body began to warm in response to his nearness.

“I guess it’s not so bad,” I allowed.

He’d been right: it wasn’t really cold. The contrast with the heated air had made the transition a bit uncomfortable, but I was quickly becoming used to the new temperature. Within minutes, I began to enjoy the cool reprieve from the baking sun.

He swam out farther, but I hesitated. He turned back to face me.

“What’s wrong?”

“I don’t really like when I can’t touch the bottom,” I admitted. “I’ll just stay in the shallow area.”

“There’s a huge rock over here.” He gestured to the center of the pool. “You can sit on it, and you’ll only be a couple feet under the surface.”

Childlike excitement rushed through me, obliterating my trepidation. “A mermaid rock?” I asked eagerly, starting to swim toward him.

“What’s a mermaid rock?” His wide grin and twinkling eyes took my breath away.

I beamed at him. “You know, a rock for mermaiding. Like Ariel. Or the mermaids from Peter Pan. They’re kind of bitchy, but they’re so pretty.”

I reached the rock and lifted myself onto it, folding my legs beside me so I could launch my torso out of the water. It was my The Little Mermaid childhood dream come true.

“See?” I prompted. “Mermaiding.”

He propped himself up on the rock, settling in beside me. His hand cupped my cheek, his sparkling gaze studying me with something like awe.

I shifted under his scrutiny. “What is it?”

One corner of his lips ticked up in a half-smile. “You’re so innocent.”

I shook my head. “We’ve covered this before. I’m not. You’ve… Well, you know the things we’ve done together. I’m not innocent.”

He captured my cheek with his other hand, bracketing my face to still the shaking of my head.

“You are,” he said softly. His lips curved, his smile indulgent. “I know the things we’ve done. I know you love when I tie you up and finger your ass when I’m deep inside you. But that doesn’t mean you’re not innocent. Hold on to that. Don’t lose it.”

His eyes clouded over on the last, and I knew dark memories were stirring.

I might not be his fantasy woman anymore, but impossibly, he still found value in my nature. He still cherished the good parts of me, parts I’d never acknowledged in myself until he held up a mirror to my soul.

“Why do you do it?” I pressed gently. “Your job. I know it must be hard. That’s not a strong enough word, but I know it’s hard.”

“To protect people like you,” he said solemnly.

“How did you decide that was what you wanted to do? How did you decide to risk your life to help keep others safe?” Shame tinged my admission. “I don’t think I could do it. I’m not selfless enough.”

His fingers threaded into my damp hair. “You’re one of the most selfless people I’ve ever met. Just because you didn’t join the Army doesn’t mean you don’t put others above yourself.”

“You were in the Army?” I hadn’t known what branch of the military he’d initially joined before becoming a special operator. I didn’t know anything about his career.

He nodded. “I enlisted straight out of high school. My family didn’t have much, and I wanted to go to college without burdening them or taking out loans. I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do with my life then, and the Army gave me a sense of purpose. Of worth.”

“But why did you continue your service? Didn’t you go to college?”

“No.” He hesitated, but after a moment, he took a breath and continued. “I got married when I was nineteen. She’d been my girlfriend in high school, and I’d see her when I went back home on leave. I was young. Naïve. I thought I was in love, but really, I was looking for something to fight for. Something to keep me going when things got…hard.” He used my word, but it carried more weight.

“What happened?” I prodded him gently. “To your marriage, I mean.”

“I saw things while I was in Afghanistan. I did things. They changed me. I’d come home, but I wouldn’t really be there. I couldn’t be the man she needed me to be, the husband she deserved. She fell in love with someone else.”

Anger surged. “That’s awful. You were out there, risking your life to keep your family—to keep all of us—safe. And she cheated on you while you were gone?”

His eyes tightened. “I don’t blame her. She needed someone who could be there for her in the ways I couldn’t. I knew then that I wasn’t cut out to have a family. The Army was my life. I had a higher duty than to myself.”

My eyes burned, my heart aching for him. He thought he was broken. I couldn’t begin to imagine the things he’d seen and done, but they’d made him believe he wasn’t worthy of love.

He wiped at my tears with his thumbs. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. I’m okay.”

The way his expression shuttered made pain knife through my chest. He was compartmentalizing, denying his agony. His loneliness.

My own loneliness and sense of brokenness seemed selfish compared to his. He had a real reason to feel damaged. All I had was self-pity and an inability to carry on, just because I thought my life was difficult.

He was so much stronger than me. He deserved to be loved far more than I did. He’d allowed me to be vulnerable with him, but this was the first time he’d been truly vulnerable with me since our first night together in Nashville.

“It’s okay for you to feel,” I whispered. “You don’t have to be so stoic.” I placed my hand over his heart. It beat faster beneath my palm. “Feel with me,” I begged.

“I do. I only feel when I’m with you. I haven’t felt anything in a long time, but I’m different when I’m with you,” he rasped, his eyes tightening.

“You make that sound like it’s a bad thing. Like it’s weakness. It’s not.”

“You’re my weakness.”

He sealed his confession with a desperate kiss, his hand cupping my nape to pull me close. My head tilted back, and I opened for him, giving him everything he deserved: tenderness, forgiveness, love.

I’d fallen for him, helplessly and completely. I wanted him to feel my love, to know he wasn’t alone in the world. It was too soon to say it aloud, our lives too complicated.

But that didn’t change the way I felt. My heart might still be in tatters, but it was his.