The rhythm of the waves, the sweep of the sky. The quiet flow of his voice coming out of the dark.

“It’s a kind of magic, isn’t it?” She sighed as the cool, moist breeze whispered over her face. “To know what you want, to just know. And to get it.”

“Magic doesn’t hurt. Work helps. So does patience and all kinds of things.”

“I know what I want now, and I’m getting it. That’s magic to me.”

“The island’s never been short on that commodity. Comes from being founded by witches, I suppose.”

Surprise tinged her voice. “Do you believe in that sort of thing?”

“Why wouldn’t I? Things are, whether people believe in them or not. There were lights in the sky last night that weren’t stars. A person could look the other way, but they’d still have been there.”

He planted his feet again, lifting her until she stood facing him with the water fuming at waist level. Night had drifted in, and the lights of the stars sprinkled over the surface of the water.

“You can turn away from something like this.” He skimmed her wet hair away from her face, left his hands resting there. “But it’s still going to be there.”

She pressed a hand against his shoulder as his mouth lowered to hers. She meant to turn away, told herself to turn away, to where everything was safe and ordered and simple.

But the spark he’d spoken of snapped inside her, warm and bright. She curled her fingers into his wet shirt and let herself feel.

Alive. Cold where the air whisked over her skin. Hot in the belly where desire began to build. Testing herself, she leaned into him, parted her lips under his.

He took his time, as much for himself as for her. Sampling, savoring. She tasted of the sea. Smelled of it. For a moment, in the star-drenched surf, he let himself drown.

He eased back, let his hands run over her shoulders, down her arms before he linked his fingers with hers. “Not so complicated.” He kissed her again, lightly, though the lightness cost him. “I’ll walk you home.”

Eight

“Mia, can I talk to you?”

With ten minutes until opening, Nell hurried down from the café. Lulu was already ringing up mail orders and shot her a typically suspicious look while Mia continued to put the finishing touches on a new display.

“Of course. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, I . . .” The store was small enough, and empty enough, that Lulu would hear every word. “I thought we could go up to your office for a minute.”

“Here’s fine. Don’t let Lulu’s sour face put you off.” Mia built a small tower out of new summer releases. “She’s worried you’re going to ask me for a loan, and naturally I’m such a soft touch—along with my soft head—I’ll let you rob me blind so I’ll die penniless and alone in some filthy gutter. Isn’t that right, Lu?”