Never have I seen anything as breathtaking and serene as the view now before me. Beyond the wooden railing of the deck, a white-tiled lap pool sparkles, framed by palms and walkways bordered by spongey grass. Past the pool and a low stone wall lies a placid turquoise lagoon, hugged by dense foliage and white-sand beaches until it meets the deep-blue expanse of the open sea.

The air is dense and moist, flavored with tropical flowers. In my ears is a chorus of birdsong and the soft harmonies of wind playing through leaves. Even the sunlight feels different. Liquid. Penetrating and restorative as it seeps into my pores.

Our two-bedroom bungalow is pristine, modern, and secluded. I know it’s costing Liam a small fortune to rent, but I’ve decided not to care. After having the best sleep of my life last night, a run on the beach this morning, and fresh fish and salad for lunch, I’m simply, amazingly content.

“Care for a swim?”

I turn as Liam steps onto the deck. My breath stutters out of me. He’s shirtless, in low-slung swim trunks, with a smile teasing his lips and a glimmer in eyes that have the same hue as the lagoon. But that’s not what gets me. Of all things, it’s his hair, grown over the last months to the length it was when we met.

And almost… almost… I can imagine a different past. One wherein we never parted but grew ever closer. Wherein his only declaration of love hadn’t been offered out of pain and guilt for what had happened to me.

“Eden?”

Soft and hesitant. Hopeful.

I clear my throat. “Did you scout the bank?”

Eyes shuttering, he nods. “I also secured a few contacts who will keep an eye out. They have photos of Alexis, Christopher, and Maddoc.”

“How much did that cost?”

“A ridiculous amount,” he says unconcernedly, then nods at the pool. “I’m going to cool off.”

I nod, not moving. I should move. I should go inside. Take a nap. Eat some papaya. Prepare for three days from now, Monday morning, when I’ll walk into a local bank and transfer a staggering balance into a new, Swiss account. But I can’t unglue my eyes from Liam.

Watching him move is one of the things I missed most during those six long years. The grace and power in every step, the song his body sings for me.

He strides down the stairs in the middle of the deck and to the edge of the pool. Brief stretch of his arms above his head, then a fluid dive into the water. Perfect, even strokes carry him to the other side. An effortless flip beneath the surface. Legs kicking, arms slicing and mastering the element.

God, how I want him.

I want his sweat. His heat. The stroke of his tongue. His fingers. The rhythm of his hips. The pressure of his teeth. I don’t want to control him or be controlled. I want spontaneity. Chaos. Him. I just want him.

I can’t wait anymore.

My shirt and shorts are off in moments. My bra and underwear follow. My skin feels two sizes too small, overheated and over-sensitized. As I walk, the pressure between my legs grows, its beat racing to match my thudding heart.

I slip into the cool water as he executes a turn at the other end of the pool. One stroke at a time, he nears. He doesn’t see me, sense me.

Then he does.

He stops short, some two feet away, and stands. Water mists from his mouth and nostrils, slides off his shoulders and chest. He blinks, looking beneath the water. Seeing me naked, his head whips up. Predatory instinct and confusion swirl together in his eyes.

I swallow hard, lift my chin. “You promised to serve.”

Liam drags a hand down his face. After a pregnant moment, he releases a shuddering breath. “Fuck. Tell me this isn’t a dream.”

I reach through the water, curling my fingers around him. His cock twitches and swells. My heart beats so fast, so hard that my words come out breathless.

“Does this feel like a dream?”

He nods. “Yes. Very much yes.”

I squeeze him. “What about now?”

His eyes flutter closed, then snap open. He takes a step forward, his hand covering mine, guiding it smoothly up and down his shaft.

“What do you need from me, siren?”

Emotion bucks and swirls inside me. The old instinct to submit to him battles the instinct to be in control, to never feel powerless again. But no matter how I wish this was a simple choice—a man and woman unencumbered—it isn’t. And it’s then I know what I need.

“Vanilla,” I whisper.

I don’t say more. Nothing else is required. Liam nods, his free hand moving to cup my face as he steps forward and brings our bodies together. The contact lifts a moan to my lips.

His mouth takes mine. So softly. So gently. Warmth and wetness and slow, deep breaths. He lifts me up, out of the water, and I wrap my arms and legs around him. Our gazes locked, he carries me confidently out of the pool, across the patio and onto the deck. Then into the bungalow and down a hall to a bedroom. My bedroom. The floor-to-ceiling doors are open, allowing warm breezes to dry our wet skin.

He lays me reverently on the white sheets. Looks down at me like I’m a siren in truth—irresistible and otherworldly.

As though we have all the time in the world, Liam leisurely explores my body with his lips and tongue. Every mark of my ordeal receives his attention, from scars to newly earned muscle. I can do little more than gasp, clutching at his shoulders or head, as he tastes and savors my legs, arms, breasts, belly, and hips.

When he hovers at last over the only place he’s bypassed, I tense. He stills and looks up. Whatever he sees on my face changes his course. He moves over me, hovers above me. And there he waits, eyes on mine. Accepting. Patient. Dark with need.

Obeying the command of my body, I spread my legs and wrap them around his hips. With a sigh, he lowers against me. His hips rock forward, sliding his cock over my clit and stomach. My breath pants out, not in fear but in anticipation.

“Are you ready?” he whispers.

Swallowing my heartbeat, I nod. “Don’t kiss me—not in general, I just… I need to see you when, you know…” I bite my lips, feeling my cheeks warm.

He smiles softly. “I promise. One word and I’ll stop, okay?”

Clover.

My eyes burn as I blink back tears. “Yes, okay. Please, Liam. I need you.”

“As my lady commands,” he murmurs, “so I will obey.”

When he’s positioned at my entrance, he once more takes his time. Teasing me with penetration, rubbing circles on my clit with the pad of his thumb. He takes so much time, in fact, that I wiggle my hips up in attempt to speed the process.

“Greedy,” he whispers, eyes twinkling down at me.

“For you, always.”

His eyes close briefly, expression twisting like the words pain him. When he opens them again, a tear drops onto my chest. I gasp, my chest squeezing, my own tears gathering, as he rolls his hips, again and again, until he’s fully seated inside me.

And I feel no darkness.

Only light.

I clutch his waist, arching beneath him. “I’ve missed you inside me. So much.”

“And I’ve missed you,” he whispers. “More than you’ll ever know.”

He pulls out and thrusts again. Slowly, then faster and deeper. But still gentle. So damned gentle. And like he promised, his eyes never leave mine. Not when I cry out and buck beneath him. Not when he finds his own release.

Still joined, he gazes down at me, chest heaving and eyes surreal blue as his tears continue to fall onto my heart. And with every drop, he falls, too.

Back into my heart.