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Dean places his hands on either side of my face, forcing me to look at him, to really look.

“That’s not what I meant. I meant it doesn’t change the fact that your father loved you. Look at you, princess. You’re one of the most intelligent, capable people I’ve met. Beautiful. Smart. Infuriating.” His low chuckle sets butterflies off in my stomach. “Deadly shot. Fearless.”

I try to shake my head, but his hands make it nearly impossible. He’s the incredible one. His thumbs sweep over my cheeks, wiping away the salty tracks of my tears. His eyes glitter with refracted starlight. His lips so close we must be breathing the same air.

“I’m not fearless. I’m so afraid.”

“That’s good.” He grins, that damned tempting dimple blooming in his cheek. “Fear makes you quick. Keeps you alive.” His lips brush against my temple. “So, what are you afraid of, professor?”

His thumb continues swiping across my cheek, though my tears have dried. I swallow as he massages the back of my head with his fingertips. Finally relaxing, the tension slowly ebbing from me.

“I’m afraid they’re going to catch me again. I’m afraid there is no wreck, only the smuggling. I’m afraid I’ve made a fool of myself for a long time.”

“What else?” His clever fingers work a small knot in my neck and I sigh, closing my eyes.

“I’m afraid you’re going to hurt me.”

His hands stop moving, and I open my eyes.

“June.” The way he says my name, like it’s a promise, makes me weak in the knees—it constricts my heart.

I press a finger to his lips, not wanting him to lie. Whatever happens next won’t end with us together. Our lives are too different.Weare too different.

But I don’t care. Not right now.

His gaze encourages me, the heat I saw earlier blazing to life. I look around, but Thompson and Thorne made themselves scarce.

“Kiss me.” I reach up, fingers feather-light against his skin.

Dean leans forward, repositioning me so I straddle his hips, and I let out a small moan as he places a gentle, searching kiss against the side of my neck. My jaw. His fingers press into my backside, still massaging, sending heat spiraling through me.

His eyes lock with mine, then fall to my mouth.God, I want him to kiss me.Need it. And finally, he does.

So gentle at first, as though I am some fragile thing. Wiggling closer, feeling the hard evidence of his desire between us, I can’t take it anymore. I run my hands up under the shirt he tossed on after he showered, reveling in the dips of his muscles, the way he groans as I rock against him. The way his mouth opens, his tongue sliding into my mouth.

Promising pleasure.

Breaking the kiss, my hands fist against his chest, my head following, resting against his collarbone. “I think I should get some sleep.”

“I’ll come with you.” The intensity in his voice sends a shiver through me.

I peel my forehead from him, memorizing the lines of his face in the moonlight.

“Okay.” It’s hesitant. I’m still afraid.

Dean’s expression smooths out, banked desire in his eyes. “We can sleep. I’m tired too, you know, recovering from a bullet wound and all that.”

A smug half-smile triggers the dimple’s appearance, and I reach for it before I can stop myself, tracing where it appears in his cheek. His stubble has grown out, making him look rougher. More dangerous.

He catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm, and I let out a surprised gasp, lust threatening to overwhelm me. He tugs me up with him. Unsteady on my feet, he wraps the blanket around my shoulders.

“I put your swimsuit in your pack.” He nods at the backpacks lined up in the sand before snagging two of them.

My head spins from the sudden change of conversation. Exhaustion tugging at me, I lean on Dean, wrapping my arm around his waist.

We walk across the dune in silence, our new flip-flops crunching against bleached out shells.

“They really thought of everything, didn’t they?”