“I’d’ve stripped down, but we haven’t known each other long enough.” He rolled over on his back, floating lazily. “The first stars are coming out. There’s nothing like it. Nothing in the world like it. Come on.”

The sea rocked her, made her feel weightless as she watched the color of the sky change. As the tone deepened bit by bit, stars winked to life.

“You’re right, there’s nothing like it. But it’s still freezing.”

“You just need a winter on the island to thicken your blood up.” He took her hand, a quiet connection as they drifted an armspan apart. “I’ve never spent more than three months at a time off-island, and that was for college. Had three years of that, and couldn’t take it anymore. I knew what I wanted anyway. And that’s what I’ve got.”

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.