Even a simple good morning would do, but my vocal cords locked up. My attention narrowed to the dreary light filtering through the small windows, and the fact that we were on a boat grabbed hold of my phobia. Unable to catch my breath, I stumbled into the table. All I could think about was the water surrounding us from outside these walls. Just mere slabs of wood separating us from the suffocating threat of drowning, of darkness and nothingness.

Rafe plopped his mug onto the counter and a bit of liquid splashed over the rim. His footsteps rumbled toward me.

“You’re safe,” he said, grabbing my biceps with two strong hands. “There’s no need to panic. Just breathe.” He pushed me with surprising gentleness onto the bench seat.

I sucked air into my lungs, but I couldn’t quite reach that spot deep within that burned for a full breath. “I-I can’t.”

He leaned over me, planted one hand on the table, and lifted my chin with the other. “Babe, I’d never let anything happen to you.” His eyes searched mine, though what he was looking for, I couldn’t say. Evidence that I wasn’t on the verge of freaking out? Trust? “I’m gonna kiss you, and you’re not gonna think about anything but me, okay?”

I managed a slight nod before his mouth slanted over mine. His tongue plundered, seeking my surrender, further stealing my breath. He made me forget that I needed to breathe.

The water didn’t matter. Nothing mattered except him kissing me.

“Better?” he asked, his voice rough and laden with want.

“I don’t need to breathe when you’re kissing me like that.”

“Good,” he said, taking my mouth again and running a hand through my tangled hair. His kiss, his touch, the way his voice washed over me—everything about him induced a sense of calm, and I almost forgot about the upsetting phone call I’d overheard. Almost.

I inched back and met his eyes. “I overheard you on the phone. What’s going on with my brother?”

His brows curved downward with displeasure. “Nothing you need to worry about.” He slid into the seat across from me and averted his gaze. I despised this unbearable weight of tension. Things were different now, only I didn’t understand why. We’d survived so much together, had sacrificed so much for each other, yet he wouldn’t let me in.

“Why are you shutting me out?” I asked, my palm gliding across the cold surface toward his. The quaking winter chill had subsided, thanks to the space heater I spied emitting a flow of warmth from the galley. But I needed his touch—needed a different kind of heat deep in my belly from being wanted, loved…trusted.