Annica felt fluttery in his arms, like a butterfly in a closed hand, her breathing quickening to match his own. But there was no way her heart could keep up with his. Absolutely not. He could feel it, knocking against his ribcage, the sound of its hurried blood throbbing in his ears. It was almost a little embarrassing. He was usually so cool and confident and levelheaded. Especially with women. Though it had been a while. He thought back to the last time he’d done something like this with a woman. Had he been so excited then?

He remembered a time before the long ocean voyages, before what he did and didn’t do to assist an international smuggling ring, his last time being with anyone before he’d changed, before he’d lost the man he used to be. It was after a New Year’s Eve party in San Bernardino. A fond memory because he finally landed a waitress he’d been flirting with all night. But he couldn’t remember his body reacting in such a visceral and uncontrollable way as it had done tonight. He’d been plied with drinks on both occasions. Both women were beautiful—with Annica definitely taking the easy lead there. But it was more than that. On the beach with her now, his face inches away from hers and her hair billowing against him, Cole understood the difference. With her and every other woman before. No matter how much fun they’d been having on this beach, the hard reality of their situation was dire and fraught with danger. Picking up a waitress seemed ridiculous in contrast. As did the waitress, herself, compared to Annica and what she’d meant and come to symbolize for him: a second chance. But a second chance only through ashes. Only through death, a rebirth. It was the phoenix rising again, Cole making his way up from the depths of the ocean after tumbling overboard on Batchewana.

“I feel like you caught me,” Cole said.

“What? How do you mean?”

He could feel her breath on his face. He liked being close like this.

“Cole?”

“On the ship, I mean. And I guess before that, too. But I just never realized.”

“You didn’t realize a lot of things.”

“I know,” he said, looking down into the sand between their legs. “I know. And I’m sorry.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry,” he said it again, looking into her eyes now.

“No, don’t. You don’t have—”

“I do. I need to say it. I’m sorry I doubted you. That I didn’t trust you enough to fully come forward, and to talk with you on the ship.” He reached for her hand, holding it around the outside. “Because now look where we are.”

“What do you mean? We’re holding hands on a beach.”

His grip tightened. “I mean with getting you so involved in this mess.”

“Forget it,” she said. “Forget the past. Just be here with me.”

Cole nodded.

“Are you?”

“I’m here,” he said, squeezing her hand. He folded his hand with hers, so their fingers clasped together. “You won’t have to follow me again.”

Annica nodded.

“I just want you to know that,” he said. “That you can count on me.”

“And you can count on me.”

“I am.”

It brought a smile to her face, and a warmth through his heart. He wanted to keep her smiling.

“They’re probably worried about us,” she said, nodding her head toward the beach house.

“Let them worry,” he said. “Let someone else do it for a change.”

He’d kept her smiling. “It feels kinda nice, doesn’t it?”

“It does,” Cole said, happily aware of how their hands squirmed warmly against each other. Through hands they emoted their true intentions. Their true desire. How his hand ached and hungered against hers was precisely what his whole body felt for its counterpart. Sliding against her, feeling every inch. Even just over clothes would be fine. Right here on the beach. Right now.

Cole left her hand, his fingers climbing up Annica’s bare arm. He leaned forward, needing to taste her lips again. He closed his eyes and heard the roar of another ocean wave rumble ashore. And then he heard Annica yelp again.

It was not about wind and sand this time, but ocean foam. It bubbled white in the dark and shot up past the wet crescents of sand, climbing over dry territory and approaching their little slice of heaven. It looked surreal.

“Whoa, it’s coming up here,” Annica shouted.

It was too late to run anywhere.

Annica cried out again as Cole lifted her off the sand, one hand underneath her thighs and another behind her back, slumping her weight against his chest and holding her there with his legs wide and flexed. She was laughing now, clutching onto him as the wave streamed in around his ankles. His pants immediately clung wetly to his legs. Then the wave flowed back down, back between his legs and back into the darkness and gone.

Annica was laughing and hugging his neck. She’d survived the wave.

“Oh, my God,” she said. “What was that?”

“Sheer bravery,” Cole said, chuckling. “And selflessness.”

“And good reflexes. That was quick.”

“Instincts,” Cole said.

“I know.” Her head had dipped to his, foreheads touching. “I know,” she said again, her voice nice and low and near him.

“Your feet would’ve been soaked for the rest of the night, like mine.”

“Poor baby,” Annica said, their heads still touching. “What can I do?”

“I think a kiss might be in order.”

“On your feet?”

“What?”

Her laugh vibrated through his ribs.

“No,” he said. “Not my feet. Probably never my feet.”

“Probably?”

“No, never.”

“You know,” Annica said, “some people are into that.”

“Yeah. And some people have to work on their feet all day.”

“Gross.”

Cole nodded, moving her head in unison with his.

“I don’t know,” she said, finally pulling her head away from his. “All this feet talk made me not want to kiss you anywhere.”

“You brought it up.”

“And you can put me down anytime.”

“Nah,” Cole said, leaning his head back against hers. And then their cheeks, flattening together as he laid another, softer, and longer kiss. Her back expanded out against his arms as she took in a deep breath.

Cole felt sufficiently paid off for his rescue, for now.

“Seriously, though,” she said. “We better not let them find us.”

“Who?” Cole said with a chuckle. “DARC Ops or the bad guys?”

“Either.”

He finally let her down, surprised again at how short Annica measured up to him—barely clearing his shoulders. She was certainly easy to carry. That might be helpful to remember later. For whatever reason . . .

“But let’s just . . .” Annica trailed off as they made their way back to the grove. “Let’s just kinda keep this on the down-low. Okay?”

“Of course.”

“It won’t look too good,” she said.

Cole, not normally the sensitive one—and usually the most jaded—surprised himself with his reaction. Logically, she was correct. But whoever he’d become down there on the beach, the vulnerable, hopeless romantic, felt just a tinge of pain in a heart that had just been beating off the charts. An after-effect, he was sure.

“What’s wrong?” Annica asked.

Another surprise. He’d let something show.

“Nothing,” Cole said.

“I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I know. We’re cool.”

“We’ll have to be cool.”

“It’s cool either way,” he said.

“Yeah.” Annica took a few steps. Her strides were shorter and she was working harder. Their pace, also, seemed to have sped up toward the house and the rest of the team. “Nothing’s changed,” she said.

“Of course not.”

Cole hung back, letting Annica take the lead up the first set of narrow stone stairs leading to the patio. He tried not to ogle her, a nice and faint view in the dark as she moved up. He tried to remember what it was like, just twenty minutes ago, when everything between them was still strictly professional. And deadly serious, where lives were on the line. Mostly his.

How would he talk to her, back inside the house, with everyone watching? He’d just have to play it cool. No big deal.

“You ready?” Annica said, smiling back to him as they crossed the flagstone patio.

“Always.”

They walked through strips of light, the glow coming from the windows up above. It was oddly quiet inside. He expected, and definitely wanted there to be the sound of a party greeting them. The sounds of people having too much fun to notice how long he’d been gone with the star reporter.

“Hey, Cole,” she said quietly, getting his attention again. “What’s our story?”

“Huh?”

“What we’ll tell them,” Annica said. “I was just interviewing you.”

“Got it.”

“The pre-interview.”

He felt himself smiling in the dark, halfway up the last set of stairs. “Should I tell them that last part?”

“Yeah,” she said. “It’s the truth.”