Tia and Marcus set out early in the morning from Mashpi Lodge to cycle through the trees of the famous Cloud Forests of Ecuador. Steep mountain terrain was lush with green foliage, moss-caked trees, and birds squawking unseen in the ever-present mist that gave the region its name. Humidity drew perspiration to the surface of Tia’s skin, clinging to her as she sat in the strange metal contraption. Two seats were set, one in front of the other, Marcus behind her, bicycle pedals beneath Marcus, and a zip-line above. Pedaling drove the metal-framed sky bike slowly along the zip-lines, strung at great tight lengths from one point to another.

The terrain dropped down sharply beneath them, and Tia was suddenly dangling from that line, strapped into the seat but virtually open to any external danger. Steep cliffs revealed deep gorges, streams running a hundred feet beneath her as they pedaled on.

It was dangerous in more ways than one and she knew it. That was part of the thrill. But a failure of the device wasn’t the only danger, as Marcus’s powerful presence behind her made clear.

If he wanted to…

But he didn’t. And worry became trust, the most dangerous practice imaginable became a trail and a victory—a testament to their new union and to the brightness of their shared future. Instead of toppling in a free fall to a terrifying and certain death, Tia felt as if she was floating, drifting along the tropical canopy, colorful frogs and birds clinging to the leaves around her.

The forest dropped farther off, the treetops themselves drifting by beneath them, the zip-lines disappearing into the mist in front of them. Even in Tia McBride’s extraordinary life, this was something she’d never experienced, this was elevation above the fray which even she had never tasted. And with her life literally hanging by a thread, she had never felt so calm, so at peace, so comfortable in her own body. None of her wild sexual exploits could match it, none of her multiple or even continuous orgasms had made her feel so elated, so free, so close to the edge that she’d already succumbed to her eventual fall.

* * *

The Mashpi Lodge itself was nothing like its rustic, primitive surroundings: angular and straight, with high-end dining and automated shades which drew up and down according to the time of day. It was an oasis of modern luxury in that ancient and timeless rain forest, a contrast of pleasures to delight the mind, body, and soul.

Standing on the expansive balcony of their room at the lodge, overlooking the dense forest around them, Tia stood serenely as Marcus stepped up to her from behind, wrapping his powerful arms around her lithe waist. She leaned back into him, his chest strong behind her, his smell familiar and welcoming.

She turned to face him, her eyes locking on his, his face warm and near. In a voice both gravelly and tender, he said, “A woman’s face with nature’s own hand painted, hast thou, the master-mistress of my passion; a woman’s gentle heart, but not acquainted with shifting change as is false women’s fashion.”

Tia knew the words, from William Shakespeare’s Sonnet 20. He’d recited it to her often in the years before their parting, in the first generation of their union. And the feelings it stirred in her, the memories and nostalgia, were irresistible.

“An eye more bright than theirs, less false in rolling, gilding the object whereupon it gazeth; a man in hue, all hues in his controlling, which steals men’s eyes and women’s souls amazeth. And for a woman wert thou first created, ‘til nature as she wrought thee fell a-doting, and by addition me of thee defeated by adding one thing to my purpose nothing.”

The words melted in Tia’s heart and dripped down to fill her soul, making her feel limp, languid in Marcus’s arms.

“But since she pricked thee out for women’s pleasure, mine be thy love and thy love’s use their treasure.”

* * *

From the heights above the Cloud Forest, Marcus next took Tia snorkeling off the famous Galapagos Islands, where naturalist Charles Darwin researched his revolutionary book, The Origin of Species.

The Pacific waters were warm against her skin, the sun hot on her back. Their rented boat was anchored only twenty yards away, around the corner of one of the mighty rock coves jutting up out of the sea floor. Bright green patches of moss clung to gray rock, azure blue waters bathing everything in a cool haze. An iguana swam past beneath them, long and light purple and spotted with black, its tail propelling it silently through the water.

They swam onward, Tia careful not to drift too far from Marcus. As amazed as she was by the panorama stretched out beneath her, she couldn’t help but feel just a little intimidated. But her sense of danger was swept away when Marcus pointed out something to their right, just around another rocky outcrop.

They swam up upon a long, flat stretch of sand, a stretching out into the seemingly endless blue. And on that beige prairie, dozens, perhaps hundreds of starfish were crawling in some tremendous migration. Their legs carried them flat against the ground, faint clouds of dust kicking up around them. She felt like she was beholding something amazing, a natural wonder most people couldn’t begin to imagine, much less fondly recall for the rest of their lives. And she knew she had Marcus to thank, for that weekend, for it all. He’d opened up a new world to her once before and he was doing it again: a series of doors, each one revealing new facets of life and new facets of Tia McBride herself.

But something else caught Tia’s eye, above the ocean floor, hovering in the blue. It was small but getting bigger, blurred and indistinct but slowly getting clear as it closed in, the rounded snout, the mindless jaw opening to taste the water.

It’s a shark, Tia knew instantly, a bull or a tiger, and a big one!

She pointed it out and he nodded, having already seen the big fish. Tia turned to try to spot their boat, but a big pillar of rock and moss blocked them. They’d swum around it with such curiosity and sensation; now it was a deadly obstruction.

Marcus took Tia’s left hand with his own left so that she was positioned belly down and facing forward and he on his back, looking behind them as they both kicked their legs for greater propulsion and maximum speed. He had taken off one of his swim fins, holding it in his empty right hand, his leg pulled back and ready to kick at the shark once it finally reached them.

And all three knew that it would.

She led them around the big stone pillar, unable to resist craning her head back to see the shark close in on him, its jaw gaping, reaching out for him.

Tia’s body was shod with fear, her legs freezing at just the wrong moment. But Marcus was ready for the beast, and he kicked hard, the thud of his heel against the shark’s nose hanging in the water for just a second. The startled fish snapped to the side and shook its great head, and he turned to her, urging her forward.

Tia turned and kept swimming, guiding Marcus around the pillar, their boat visible on the surface of the water about twenty yards off. She kept swimming, hard and strong, fighting the constant urge to turn around to check the shark’s distance.

Don’t turn around, she told herself, don’t slow down, even for an instant. Another jut and pull of Marcus beside her sent a wave of panic through her body, her head unable to resist snapping back. Just under the surface, bubbles rose in a blinding cloud, but there was no blood in the water, and the big shark was once again snapping to swim to the back and to the side, disappearing into the gloom.

Shit, it’s swimming around the pillar, Tia told herself. It’s going to hit us from the side!

She swam harder, the boat not seeming to get any closer as they struggled toward it. Her heart was beating hard, her breath strained in that plastic snorkel, water splashing up, the current seeming to push her back.

Then that gray fin came cutting around the side of the pillar, streaming toward them, cutting the chop for a killing strike. Tia looked back down under the water, pulling at Marcus’s hand and glancing past him at the shark. She had to pull him hard to the side at just the last minute; he retracted his leg, throwing his hard heel forward again, nailing the frustrated fish on the snout a third straight time.

The beast shook its head again but kept coming, Marcus kicking again.

This time it was a miss.

The shark lurched in, but Marcus hit the creature with his other foot, slower and encumbered with the rubber swim fin. But the thing did distract the shark, and it enabled Marcus to shove the shark to the side and back into line for another sharp kick with his bare heel. Two direct shots, one on the snout and one on the eye, finally drove the shark to turn and swim back into hiding.

Tia and Marcus corrected their direction and swam directly toward the boat, which finally seemed to be getting closer. But Tia’s fear was difficult to overcome. The creature could strike from out of nowhere, from any direction, at any time, jaws clamping down on her arms, legs, torso, pulling her down and tearing her apart.

When will it hit, she wondered, now? Now? After another miserable moment, Now?

They finally made it to the boat and Marcus pushed Tia to the little metal ladder over the side. She climbed quickly, gasping as she threw the snorkel and mask away and turned to pull Marcus up out of the water. Her wet hands slipped, his sliding out of her grip. But he grabbed the ladder and pulled himself up, her desperate hands clinging to his thick, wet arms, pulling him in and onto the boat.

“Oh my God,” she said, words streaming out of her mouth, “oh my God, oh my God! Are you okay? Are you all right?”

Marcus chuckled a bit, but Tia could detect the rush of nerves, even in his voice. “Fine, Tia, I’m fine.” He turned and lifted his one bare foot, bloodied on the sole.

“Oh, Marcus!”

“A little cut, it’s nothing.”

“Sit!”

She sat Marcus down and crossed to the area near the controls, searching around underneath and quickly finding a white plastic First Aid kit, the familiar red cross logo reassuring her. She fell to her knees and cracked the kit open, finding a brown bottle of hydrogen peroxide, a rolled Ace bandage, and some gauze.

Just a bit nervous, Tia poured the bottle over Marcus’s foot, washing away the blood and revealing several deep scrapes.

“I told you, it’s nothing.”

“Hush,” she said, putting the gauze on the sole of his foot and wrapping the Ace bandage around his foot and ankle, tight but not too tight—secure, safe.

It was the way he made her feel.

And in that moment, Tia realized what she’d been missing without Marcus in her life, what had been vacant in all her other experiences over the previous ten years. She hadn’t cared for any of them, she hadn’t worried about them, been afraid for them, or cared anything at all for them. But Marcus Pike was different, and Tia’s feelings for him were bound to be different.

And now she wanted to show him just how different they were.