“So”—she cleared her throat—“we’re going to swim out over the reef. It’s a couple of hundred feet, I think. The wreck is out there—you can just about see one of the masts at low tide.” Squinting into the sun, she pointed. “Have you ever dived a coral reef before?”

“Not a reef, no, but I’ve helped recover wrecks.”

“You’re in for a treat, then—keep your eyes out for …” If he hadn’t seen a reef, it would spoil the surprise to tell him about all the colour, the fish, the sponges, and shells, and her description wouldn’t do it justice. “For everything. Come on.” She waded into the sea, breathing a sigh as it washed away the heat and sweat and tugged on her gift, wanting her attention.

Once the water reached their waists, they swam out. Knigh’s stroke was sure and swift—thank the gods for that, he hadn’t lied about being a strong swimmer.

As they swam, she got a good view of his broad back, too. It was not a disappointment. Though she did raise her eyebrows at the black lines etched upon his skin. Tattoos on sailors were common, but she hadn’t expected that to stretch to the officers. Across Knigh’s back was a family crest showing a moon and two stars, surrounded by swirling stylised waves. Not the Villiers’ crest—she vaguely remembered that involved shells. Maybe the Blackwoods, then.

Whoever’s crest it was, the tattoo surged with his movements, its expertly wrought lines highlighting those damn muscles of his.

So tempting.

She clenched her jaw. Focus on the swim.

The sea bed dropped away gently. The water stretched on clear and blue in this sheltered cove. Within a few minutes, the sand gave way to rock, and on those rocks, the reef began.

She gestured to him to follow her lead and shifted to a breaststroke that left her face in the water.

Purple, pink, and chartreuse corals and sponges coated the jagged rocks. Crimson, green, and brown weeds wafted like the trees inland in the breeze. And amongst it all, fish darted in more colours than she had names for and a hundred different shapes and sizes.

Saba came from one of Arawaké’s islands and had told her the names of some of the species here. Butterflyfish with large black dots near their tails. Hot orange squirrelfish with spiky dorsal fins. A pair of electric blue chromis darted through the reef, their iridescent bodies outlined with black fins and tails.

Vice opened her awareness. In all directions, movement, shifting light, a complex web of life. The sea sang with it, a symphony that she couldn’t hope to understand with all its intricate, interlocking parts and players, but it filled her, warmed her, held her.

This was rightness.