Their day had gone even more perfectly than Jackson had planned. He leaned back in his chair on the veranda of his island retreat and sighed with contentment. Dinner had been delicious, the singer who’d provided the entertainment had been one of Meghan’s favorites, and now they were sharing a glass of fine cognac and admiring the way the full moon was reflected in the shimmering, dark ocean.

Sitting opposite him at the table, Meghan’s face glowed from all the sun she’d had that day. He’d loved aweing and amazing her with every new surprise. Each time her eyes had widened or she’d gasped with pleasure, he’d felt warmer and happier and lighter.

It was one thing to enjoy all this beauty alone. But it hadn’t just doubled his enjoyment to be able to share it with her, it had multiplied it exponentially.

“Tell me the truth,” said Meghan, sipping her cognac. “That moon isn’t real, is it? You had Freya hang it for us, didn’t you?”

“How did you know?” He stared up at the shining disk, admiring how large and bright it looked. He’d arranged a boat back to the mainland for his staff and the singer, so he and Meghan could be alone for the rest of the night. Then they’d turned all the house lights off so they could look at the stars.

“The face in the moon.” She pointed. “It’s smiling, see? It doesn’t normally smile like that.”

Jackson knew how the moon felt. He didn’t normally smile so much either. “Actually, Freya set up this whole place for us. We’re inside a giant dome and the moon’s painted on the glass.” He shook his head sadly. “I thought I’d managed to fool you.”

“She did too good a job. There’s no way a place this beautiful could really exist.”

He reached across the table for her hand. “You make it beautiful,” he said softly.

She smiled, but her gaze dropped. “Am I passing your test?” Her voice was light, but he could tell his motives were bothering her.

“I told you, this isn’t a test.”

“Okay.” She took a deep breath that was more like a sigh and her eyes came back to his. “I like you a lot, Jackson.”

“The feeling’s mutual.”

“I like spending time with you, but it doesn’t have to be in a place like this. It would have been just as nice sharing a ten dollar pizza at Al’s Pizzeria.”

“Just as nice?”

“Almost as nice.” She shook her head, smiling. “Okay, not as nice. They don’t have a smiling moon at Al’s Pizzeria, and I think they might have cheated to pass their last health inspection rating. But you get my point, right?”

“Ten dollar pizza.” He nodded. “Got it. That’s your dream date.” He picked up the cognac bottle. “I’d offer you a top up, but I’m not sure they serve this brand of cognac at Al’s Pizzeria.”

“At Al’s they serve only the cheapest wine in soggy paper cups.” She held out her glass. “I have a good imagination. I can pretend that’s what I’m drinking.”

He splashed a little more into both their glasses. The amber liquid warmed his throat as it went down. In fact, it warmed his entire body.

“I like the shushing of the waves, and the wind rustling the leaves in the palm trees,” she said. “The beach has its own music.”

The moonlight highlighted the soaring arches of her cheekbones and the soft curve of her lips. The only way she could possibly be more beautiful was if he could make out the light blue of her eyes.

“What music would we be listening to at Al’s Pizzeria?” he asked.

“They have a jukebox. Put in a coin and pick something.”

He mimed putting a coin into an imaginary slot, considering for a moment, then pushing a button.

“Which song did you choose?”

“Wait. It’s coming on now.” Cupping one hand over his ear, he started crooning. “When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie...”

“That’s amore.” She joined in, laughing, and they sang the chorus together, taking turns to make up lyrics when they couldn’t remember the words.

“When the stars are as bright as Al’s fluorescent lights, that’s amore.

When the moon cracks a smile on your own private isle, that’s amore.

When you both start to sing like you’ve had too much gin, that’s amore.”

“I’d forgotten what your singing was like,” she said through her laughter. “You’re doing the world a disservice by staying silent.”

He shook his head. “I’d rather leave the singing to you and do what I’m best at.”

“Making hologram machines?”

“Making love.”

She let out a burst of laughter, and he pretended to be offended. The act would have been more convincing if he’d been able to hide his smile. He loved the way the way they could make each other laugh, their sense of humor so perfectly attuned. It was like the years since they’d seen each other had melted away, and they’d picked right up from where they’d left off.

“More cognac?” he asked, holding up the bottle.

She shook her head. “Believe it or not, I don’t normally drink this much. The other night with the whisky just about filled my yearly quota.”

“Come on, you’re a rock star. You have a wild-living reputation to uphold.” He topped his own glass up.

“I’ve never wanted to drink too much.” She grimaced. “I think deep down I’m afraid that when I sober up, I’ll find myself living in a house in the suburbs with a husband and two kids.”

“A fate worse than death,” he said teasingly.

“It’s not what you want, either.”

He inclined his head, conceding the point. His projector would change the future of technology, and he didn’t want to get tied to something that might stop him working all hours to make that happen. Besides, the family he’d grown up with had been more than enough.

“What do you want out of life?” he asked, reaching across to take her hand again.

“What you have,” she said at once.

“Money?”

“No. I don’t care about the money.”

“Then what?”

“Success.”

“What kind of success would make you happy?”

She hesitated, her gaze flicking briefly down to their joined hands. “It’s stupid.”

“I won’t laugh.”

She sucked in a deep breath. “I can’t believe I’m telling you this. But I want to be in the dentist’s chair when my song comes on the radio. I want the dentist to start humming along to it while he drills my teeth, and he doesn’t have any idea that I’m the one singing. All he knows is that he likes the song.”

“You dream of being at the dentist?”

“You promised not to laugh.” She tried to pull her hand out of his, but he kept it trapped.

“I wasn’t laughing.” He pressed his lips together. “Go on.”

“I want to be on stage and barely able to hear myself sing because the crowd are all singing along with me. I want to be kept awake by drunk people staggering down my street at three o’clock in the morning, and it’s my song they’re belting out at the top of their lungs.”

“That’s a pretty good dream. Except for the bits about getting your teeth drilled and being woken up by drunk people.”

Her expression was serious. “You know what I said the other day about how your house was a drum solo? This island is like a mermaid who sings so sweetly, she lures sailors to their death on sharp rocks. It’s so gorgeous here, I could happily spend all my time on the beach and in the water, and that’s the opposite of what I need if I’m ever going to get close to my dream. I couldn’t stay here for long, because it would be too tempting to forget about everything else.”

Jackson had felt the same way once. The fire in his gut had driven him to work all hours, to get where he wanted to be. But that feeling could be a trap too, after a while.

“Everybody has to escape sometimes,” he said. “I can get so caught up in work that days go by and I’ve done nothing else. Coming here helps me remember there’s more to life than software and technology. The reason I bought the island is because there’s no internet here. It’s exactly what I need to unwind.”

“Shame we’re in such different places in our lives.” She sounded sad. “It makes things harder. I’d really like to be able to relax, forget about everything, and just enjoy it.” She gestured up at the sky. “I mean, who even knew there were so many stars?”

“Shh, don’t tell anyone. I want to keep them all to myself.”

“How did you get to be so rich? Maybe I can copy your success to get what I want.”

“I worked hard and got lucky with a couple of smart ideas.” He reached out to put his other hand over hers. “It’ll happen to you. Give it time.”

She let out a long, wistful breath. “Sometimes it’s hard to keep believing it.”

“Then sing something. I want to hear another of the songs you’ve written. It’ll remind us both of how talented you are.”

“Now?”

“Why not? You brought your guitar, didn’t you?” He already knew the answer to that question. She never went anywhere without it.

“Will you sing with me again?”

He shook his head. “You’ve already had one song out of me, which is more than I’ve sung since the night I’ve left Sydney. Besides, I’d much rather listen to you.”

“Okay.” The smile she gave him was wide and sincere. “You know I don’t need much encouragement.” She got up and fetched her guitar, then pulled her chair out from the table so she could sit down and strum it.

“This is the song that Trey stole from me.” Her fingers caressed the strings of her guitar. “It’s his now, and I’ll never get to sing it again in public. I want to perform it for you one last time, then let it go.”

When she started singing, the tune was haunting. It sounded very different to the song he’d heard the DJ play at the costume party. Oh, the words were the same. And the basic melody. But the song booming over the speakers at the party had been a light-hearted pop song. When Meghan sang it, her rich, full voice gave the words new nuances of meaning and turned it into a ballad that made his soul take flight.

Her voice soared as her fingers glided over the strings of her guitar. Jackson was torn between wanting to close his eyes to soak in the beauty of the song, and being unable to tear his gaze from the beauty of the singer.

When the last note of the song finally died away, the only thing Jackson could do was move to Meghan. He took the guitar from her and put it on the table, then drew her to her feet so he could kiss her. “I was compelled to do that,” he murmured. “When you sing, you’re impossible for me to resist.”

“Only when I sing?”

“Especially when you sing.” He held her tight, enjoying the feel of her body against his. “I want to make love to the brightest star I’ve ever seen.”

“On the sand,” she said, glancing toward the beach. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

“It won’t be as fun as it looks in the movies. The sand could get into all kinds of uncomfortable places.”

“Then I call dibbs on being on top.”

Smiling, he led her over the short expanse of grass to the small, white beach. He stopped at the edge of the sand to shuck off his shoes. When he looked up, she was tugging off her T-shirt and jeans.

“Skinny dip first?” she asked. Without waiting for his answer, she ran to the water and splashed into the shallows.

By the time he’d pulled off his jeans, she was already waist deep, gasping at the coldness of the water, her body shining in the moonlight. He stood still for a moment, struck breathless by the beauty of her curves. Then, as she plunged right in, he followed.

Without the heat of the sun, the water felt colder. But when Meghan’s naked, slippery body rubbed against his, he forgot about everything except how badly he wanted her.

They kissed standing in chest deep water, with their mouths salty and the swell of the waves tugging them one way and then the other. His hands slipped nicely over her wet body, and when he stroked her breasts, her nipples were hard pebbles, sensitive under his fingers. She nipped his lips, her hands greedy for him, and he was more than ready to oblige. When she put her legs around his hips, he pushed his hardness against her. Though they were in water, he could feel her slickness, and it made him throb with his need to be inside her.

With her legs hooked over his hips, her face was higher than his. He wanted to lick and suck her breasts, but the waves were too high. And when one caught him in the mouth as he was kissing her neck, he started his retreat toward shallower water.

Meghan, however, had other ideas. She wriggled until he was positioned just right, then pushed herself onto his length. Her mouth came down hard over his, and they gasped together in a shared rush of exquisite pleasure.

When she pulled herself up, he staggered a little before bracing his feet against the sandy sea floor. She pushed down again, and he met her thrust, sliding so deeply inside her that he couldn’t tell where he ended and she began.

Rising up again, she dropped her head backward, arching her back. She was magnificent. Water droplets flew from her skin and hair, shining in the moonlight. Her fingernails dug into his shoulders, and she let out a sound of pure passion and joy.

A beautiful battle cry, he thought. Then she was sinking on him again, and he couldn’t think of anything but how incredible she felt. She rode him until she cried out again, and when he felt her tighten, clenching around him, he let himself go too, pulling her down harder as he pumped into her.

He held her in the water for a while afterward, his face in her neck, tasting the salt on her skin and feeling her pulse slow. If the water were just a few degrees warmer, he would have happily stayed there all night, cushioned by the water, with her body all but weightless in his arms.

“I saw a shooting star,” she murmured.

“Just now?” He craned his neck up to look.

“While I was orgasming.”

He gave a low laugh. “I saw a whole cluster of them. Or maybe it was fireworks. I can’t be sure.”

“We always make fireworks,” she said smugly, smiling at him.

“We always do,” he agreed. Then he realized something troubling. “Hopefully we didn’t make anything else. We didn’t use a condom.”

“I’m on the pill.”

“Good.” He kissed her, moving slowly into shore with her legs still tightly around him.

If she were anyone else, he’d be more disturbed by what they’d done. Saying she was on the pill didn’t mean really she was, and some women might consider a pregnancy to be a good way to get a share of his fortune. But he didn’t need to think that way around Meghan. She was nothing like his family, or the other so-called friends who’d come running at the first sign of his success, and had become bitter when he’d refused to act like their own personal ATM.

Meghan was the one person he could trust, the one person who couldn’t be corrupted by exposure to his fortune. With her, everything felt natural and good. She gave him peace from all that. A peace so precious, he wasn’t sure he ever wanted to let her go.