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S era’s eyes fluttered open and shut again.

They still stung from the salty water.

Her body shivered, and she coughed again. Someone—a man—was speaking to her, but the words were a jumble she couldn’t untangle. But she did know this person had saved her life.

A hand touched her cheek.

The comfort that small action brought eased some of the biting chill that clung to her bones. And had she imagined it, or had his lips touched hers?

Did she perhaps die?

Why else would a man kiss a near-drowned woman?

No. No, no, no! A seagull flashed in her mind. That… that… blasted bird! No attempted good deed went unpunished, right?

She tried again to open her eyes, but they still stung fiercely from the salty water, forcing her to keep them closed until the relentless burn eased a bit.

Then a mouth met hers once more, urgent and hot.

A burst of air rushed past her lips as Sera coughed again, this time a strained, spluttering breath.

The man gathered her into his arms, and she didn’t utter a protest. The strength of his body was too comforting, even though she had no idea what on earth he was doing.

At that moment, his hold became her lifeline.

Who was he? She wanted to ask him, but her voice failed her. It was as if the command of her brain couldn’t reach her tongue.

She wasn’t dying—was she?

No.

I refuse to die.

Her eyes finally managed to flutter open to meet his—a pair of dark, intense eyes that smoldered with both worry and relief.

“You…” She choked.

“Breathe,” he commanded, his voice laced with authority.

Sera took a deep breath, then another, her body gradually calming as her eyes remained locked on his.

Was he the man she saw on the cliff? How did he find her?

But as each breath steadied her, so did the storm of inquiries steady, too—except for one: Who are you, and why did you risk your life for me?

Words still failed to pass her lips, yet something flashing in his gaze held her as securely as his arms. Something that set all her senses on alert and brought awareness back to their situation.

Scandalous , a stray thought whispered.

Well, wasn’t this… perfect?

She managed to smile despite the ache in her limbs. Saved by a handsome man—could a girl ask for anything more?

The man’s brows drew together. “Are you in pain?” His tone was firm, almost a rebuke, as if he were frustrated, or perhaps angry, that she’d nearly succumbed to the waves.

“I…” The burn of his gaze sent a shock through her already trembling body, nerves firing as warmth replaced the cold, igniting beneath her skin.

Not pain. Just… heat.

The heat coursing through her body seemed to emanate from him, melting away the lingering chill. Which was rather odd since he should have been just as cold as she, right? He wasn’t the sun, was he? A deity from the heavens?

She focused on his face, his features rugged yet oddly refined, as if he belonged to both the earth and something far removed from it.

Blond, thick hair clung to his forehead, droplets of water dripping onto her.

Sharp cheekbones balanced by a slightly square jaw, and dark brows framed eyes that were unexpectedly watchful, as if he were accustomed to taking in every detail around him.

The gaze that held her was intense but not unkind, a quiet command lingering that suggested he was no stranger to dangerous situations—or to leading others out of them.

His hand, steady and strong on her shoulder, contrasted with the wet, disheveled state of his clothes, which clung to him, revealing the lines of a lean but powerful build.

Even in his soaked state, there was a sense of discipline in the way he held himself, even as he looked her over, assessing her condition after the rescue.

Handsome.

In an otherworldly sort of way.

Honestly, Sera! This was not the time. She could have died today. But then, was there a better time to notice a man’s beauty other than right after death? A surge of humor bubbled up, and she tested her voice again. “Are…” She cleared her throat. “Are you my prince?”

Wait, no.

That wasn’t right. It should have been a knight, not a prince. Her tongue still felt heavy, as did her mind, and she tried to shake the muddle from her head when he answered.

“No, I’m not your prince.” Firm.

Of course not. “So honest.” Her prince was probably an arrogant, pot-bellied man with none of this stranger’s stoic grace. The thought was ridiculous yet amusing, given her current predicament. She squirmed in his embrace, strangely reluctant for him to let go. “Please… help me sit up.”

He nodded, shifting his arm behind her back, helping her to her feet. Every movement of his was careful, as though he feared hurting her. “Honesty saves lives,” he finally said.

She wanted to laugh at that.

He also saved lives. She drew in a deep breath, taking stock of her body, leaning on one of her arms. “Thank you for saving mine.”

He dipped his head in a slight, respectful nod. “It was fortunate I was nearby. What were you doing in the water?”

Sera sighed. “Would you believe me if I said I tried to save a bird on that rock over there?” She gestured with her chin to the gray stone, half of it jutting innocently from the ocean, the other half merging wickedly with the beach as the tide licked at its edges.

She’d been reckless.

He followed her gaze before turning back to her, a half-smile twitching at the corners of his mouth that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “And you never considered the dangers?”

“Did you?” she shot back. She watched his face, intrigued by how various emotions flashed across his features. There was depth to his gaze, holding as many untold secrets as the ocean bore. And Sera felt the need to learn to swim—not in water, but to learn more about her savior.

How strange, this feeling.

For a heartbeat, they were silent, observing each other. Sera felt her pulse quicken, not from fear but from a strange thrill. She had to fill the quiet, the way his eyes, too observant, too knowing, held her gaze.

“Did no one accompany you to the beach?” he asked.

She awkwardly brushed a stray curl from her forehead. “I slipped out.” At his look, she added, “I like to stroll on the beach alone. I suppose that wouldn’t make sense to most people.”

He sighed, dragging his hand through his wet hair. “On the contrary, I understand much more than you might imagine. I enjoy the quiet, too.”

Her pulse skittered again at the way he spoke to her, not patronizingly, and not as if he was trying to puzzle her out like some intricate riddle.

Just normal. And despite herself, she wanted to know more about him, this mysterious stranger who’d pulled her from the water without fear of death.

“I suppose I owe you something, though I’m afraid I have nothing to give you.

” She laughed lightly. “Except a word of advice: steer clear of impetuous young women with a fondness for saving creatures they can’t actually catch. ”

He gave her a half-smile. “Consider the lesson learned.” There was a lilt to his speech—something unusual in Cornwall. Perhaps English wasn’t his first language, but he spoke as if it came naturally to him.

“Good,” she murmured. “I’d hate for you to risk your life again on my account.”

There was a pause, his eyes glancing toward the waves, then back at her. “You’re sure you’re well?”

“Only a little bruised in body and pride, rest assured,” Sera answered, her voice almost fully recovered, just a slight scratchiness remaining. “And perhaps a bit grateful. You don’t meet someone who saves your life every day.”

And being kissed—or a version of a kiss—as well.

Wait, did that count as her first kiss being stolen?

*

Alex watched the girl a moment longer, her pale skin almost ghostly against the rising sun.

She was breathing, her chest rising and falling with slow, steady breaths.

That was all that mattered. However, she did look a tiny bit comic with her hair, tangled and damp from the water, clinging to her face like seaweed, but as she pushed it aside, she revealed her features fully, and he felt a sharp intake of breath.

Her eyes were still dazed yet vivid—a shade of green he’d never quite seen before.

Her face, despite its pallor, held an undeniable strength beneath its softness.

The kind of strength he knew all too well from the women of his homeland.

But this—this was something different. Something more… profound.

Rebellious, even.

She slowly shifted her body, and he searched for any sign of distress.

“You stole my first kiss,” she suddenly accused.

“I beg your pardon?” He did no such thing!

“You pressed your lips against mine. What is that if not a kiss?”

“It’s saving your life.” When her eyes narrowed, he continued, “I vow, I speak the truth.”

She studied him for a moment before nodding. “I shall believe you.”

Thank saints.

“But lips touching lips, in my estimation, still remains a kiss.”

Alex cursed, ready to launch into an explanation when she said, “I suppose I should return home.”

Yes. Before more comments on kissing. But he found he didn’t mind all that much.

Besides that, for a woman who nearly died, she showed no sign of hysteria, and his heart felt almost distressed for her.

The thought of this girl, this stranger, gone from this world…

strangely unsettled him in a way he hadn’t anticipated.

She began to push herself upright but faltered.

“Steady now,” Alex said softly, rising to his feet and holding out his hand to her. “Here, let me help.”

She placed her palm in his, slowly attempting to stand again, and let out a breath when she succeeded. “Thank you.”

“I’ll escort you home.”

She shook her head. “No need.”

He didn’t argue. “Very well. At least I’ll escort you to solid ground.”

Alex thought she’d decline again, but to his relief, she nodded. “That might be best.”