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He shut his water off in real time, and so did I.

I did not want to be a slacker when it came to the brushing, so I timed my brushing to his.

He did have the most beautiful teeth. When he smiled, the sun came out full force, and I melted.

I set my back against the counter, watching as he tied a towel around his waist, running his hands through his hair to tame it.

I turned some and grabbed a comb I had seen in the wrong drawer. The one without the toothbrushes. He noticed. He opened his palm toward me to take it, but I shook my head.

“Allow me to do this for you.”

Our eyes met, and it took him a minute, but he finally nodded. I tapped the comb against my palm, thinking over all the times I had watched him do it, and then reached up to?—

—he picked me up in a rush, making me gasp, before he set me down on the counter. He stood between my legs, his hands on each side of my hips, and looked down at me.

I swallowed hard, nodded, and started to comb his hair. He moved into the motion as if he had never felt anything as good. He made a pleasurable noise in his throat. It vibrated. When he did, the spot between my legs ached, and I shivered.

My figa had a pulse, and it seemed directly connected to my breath, which was coming in shallow pants.

I had to fight with my thighs not to close.

Not to keep him out, but to lock him in.

I wanted to bite his shoulder while he pounded into me, screaming when he reached me so deep inside, it almost felt as if he might rearrange my insides.

Then he would slowly pull out, touching every sensitive nerve, and… I made a pleasurable noise of my own.

His nostrils flared, and he slowly opened his eyes.

His heated gaze traveled between my legs before he met my eyes.

“You smell so fucking sweet,” he said. Taking my face in his hands, he kissed me while one of his hands roamed to my thigh, where it glistened with want.

I wrapped my arms around his neck, the comb falling to the floor, and as I wrapped my legs around his waist, a knock came at the door.

I made a desperate noise, and a breathy laugh from his mouth touched my lips. He kissed them, patting my hips. “Merlin said he was going to bring over new communication equipment. The other ones we had were older and crapping out. It’s important to have them. We’re so fucking off the grid here.”

“Perhaps I will take a shower.” I was breathless, and my hands were curling into fists. I was trying to keep myself from launching my entire body at him. This was how badly I wanted him. He was…beyond fine. His scent swirled in the air, and I closed my eyes, breathing him in.

“Annie.”

My eyes opened. He was about to walk out.

“Yes?”

“A shower will be a waste of water. You’re just going to get dirty again.”

“Ah,” I breathed out, as he went to answer the door.

Taking a deep breath, I turned toward the mirror, setting my hands on the counter.

I touched my face. I was too pale. It was as if I had never recovered from the sickness when I was apart from my husband.

However, my hair... I set my hand over my head, attempting to squish it down.

My hair was naturally wavy, although closer to straight than curly, but here…

the humidity was thick, and it seemed to plump my hair to levels I had never experienced before.

Venice was humid, and I found Maremma was as well, even if the weather was milder there, since it was along the coast.

However, in Fiji…my hair seemed to have drunk the water in the air and plumped up to ten times, or more, its usual volume. I…I tilted my head to the side. I smiled. I liked it. It made me seem as wild as the man who had just occupied the bathroom with me. I could be the Jane to his Tarzan.

Laughing, I reached out and grabbed some personal care items that were already on the counter when we arrived.

Mariano had said his mamma had thought I would like them.

I unscrewed the glass jar and held it to my nose.

I closed my eyes and moaned. It smelled so good.

It smelled the same as the beach—tropical, warm, and sweet. Sans the baking scent of sea creatures.

Somehow coconut, orange blossom, jasmine, and…dragon fruit?…was tamed and poured into a bottle.

“ Grazie mille, Scarlett Fausti,” I said to myself as I used the cream, deodorant, and body mist.

She had even sent over the hair care to go with. I hoped it would not weigh my hair down and cause it to lose its wild plumpness. I snagged the bathrobe from the hook and decided to look around while Mariano straightened out the business he had mentioned with Merlin.

When we arrived the evening before, right as the sun set, I had only gotten a glimpse of the outside of our bure in the thin darkness, but it was enough to convince me that the place was in harmony with nature.

At night (I was sure during the day as well), it was almost camouflaged amongst the scenery around it.

The roof seemed to be made of straw, while the rest seemed to be made of wood.

The entire place seemed to be open and airy, at one with the elements surrounding it.

My hand lingered on the counter, the cool stone beneath it a testament to how this place attempted to mimic nature by bringing the outside elements in.

The inside and outside showers were both made of stone, and so was the sunken tub that seemed as deep as a mini pool.

My feet padded out the door and into the bedroom.

It was an open space, windows from one side to another, allowing the view to take center stage.

The entire place was moody, those same shadows dancing along the walls. We were in for bad weather.

My husband and Merlin were in the kitchen talking.

I rushed back into the bathroom, not realizing the bedroom opened into the kitchen.

I was only in a bathrobe. To Mariano, I might as well have been naked.

The rest of the bure , more exceptional than the inside, seemed to be the outside.

The wraparound covered porch seemed to be where it was at.

I was not sure if I wanted to see the beach until the weather settled down.

I could feel the pressure and the opposing heat, but the rain had not yet broken.

The bure lit up with lightning, and then thunder boomed.

I sucked in a breath, playing with the tie of the robe, not sure what to do with myself.

I closed my eyes to the memory of mamma shouting, we are all going to die!

“We are not ,” I firmly told myself.

Mariano came into the bathroom, as if he had sensed my fear and was ready to chase it away. “We’re in for bad weather, Annie.”

“I know,” I whispered. I took a breath. “How bad?”

“Nothing to be afraid of,” he said, stalking closer to me. “Normal for this time of the year.”

His body pushed mine backward until my back hit the counter, and I set my hands over his chest. I was not pushing.

I demanded to bring him closer. He ran his hands along my thighs, closing his eyes, breathing in, holding his breath for a long time.

When he finally looked into my eyes, he breathed out slowly. My thighs were wet with want again.

“Food,” he said against my mouth, then went in for another kiss. “You need to eat.”

My stomach made an obnoxious noise in agreement with this. He picked me up, directing my legs around his waist again, and he carried me toward the kitchen as we kissed. His cock pressed against my opening, and it was making me feel…wanton.

“How long will it last? The weather? Will we get to see the island?”

“Do you care?” He lifted a brow at me, squeezing my ass.

“No,” I breathed out. “I am just making nonsense conversation. I am, ah, afraid of the weather, while also being turned on.”

He stopped and ordered me to open my eyes. I did as a shock of lightning lit up the bure , and the solar lights, which reminded me of flames, came to life. Thunder barreled, as if unearthly giants were rolling rocks above our heads.

“I’m here with you,” he said.

“I should not be afraid. However, there is still a part of me that is.”

He kissed me tenderly on the lips. “I know, my Annie, but I won’t allow anything to hurt you—if it’s in my power to do so. I’ll protect your life with my own.”

“More than this weather,” I whispered, “that is what I fear most. Life without you in it.”

He growled, pulling my forehead against his. “You break my heart, Sistine Fausti.”

He started to move again, bringing us into the kitchen. He kept me with him while he pulled out a fruit tray from the fridge, setting it on the table. I wiggled to get down, and he set me on my feet, but we kept close to each other while we prepared breakfast at our table.

He pulled my seat out for me when it was time to eat, then took the seat next to me.

I fed him a piece of fruit. He fed me one.

We fed each other, and he told me of all the things the island had to offer.

At the end of the meal, when we were both full, he turned to me, a heated look coming into his eyes.

“There’s more to do here than seeing the island, Annie.”

“Yes,” I breathed as another roll of thunder made the bure tremble. “Like…each other.” Then I took off for the bed.

He caught me before I could make it there.