Too restless to take my place beside him, I sat with my legs pulled to my chest, not able to stop staring at the man-beast who had won my heart. “Brando?”
“Yeah, baby.”
Droplets of water, small crystals, misted over him from the spray of the fall. I half expected them to vaporize from his heat. His skin glowed a healthy bronze against the black of his hair, the soft tufts under his arms, the thickness between his legs, and his long, fanning lashes. He made my heart beat faster.
A sharp ray came through entirely, glinting, highlighting all of the months of strain he had endured, but he was on the mend. So was I. Whatever it was the other went through, we shared. The warmth of the island and Brando’s love released the last cold clutch of death's determination. I could feel it now too, flowing out like a toxin, cleansed by his fight and my will.
The waterfall bowed with a gust of wind. The scents of mango, coconut, and gardenia swept in. I knew some of those were coming from him.
I startled when his head shifted and he looked at me.
“Tell me.” His tone was soft and his smile lazy.
“What?” I said, tone as soft as his.
“You called my name.”
“Oh.” I had. Then I got lost in him. “How many women have told you that you're beautiful?”
He lifted his hands and let them drop to his chest. “Only you.”
“Not the complete truth,” I said, more heat in my voice than intended.
“Give me the chance to expand on that answer. You’re the only one who says it and it means something different.”
“Expand on that too.”
“What about me do you think is beautiful?”
“Everything,” I said.
“You mean it. Any other time it was said, it was said about my physical appearance. You mean everything.”
I smiled. “I mean your heart and soul too.”
“Yeah,” he said. “But I wasn’t going to say that.” I laughed quietly and he smiled, teeth and all. “Even if someone else would’ve meant the same thing, it wouldn’t have mattered. You’re the only one I allow to weigh me up in that way, in a way that’s actually worth something to me. But that’s not what you really wanted to say before.” He had picked up my mood. “Tell me.”
I hesitated but couldn’t hold it in any longer. “This is not normal. What's between us, I mean. I—I’ve always known, but here, it goes beyond feeling. I can almostseeits existence. That’s how strong it is.”
His brows drew down. He blinked at the oncoming sparks of water, and then his eyes closed. “No,” he agreed, sighing. “It’s not normal.” He held out his hand. I placed my palm against his, caressing up and down. A shiver passed over me, even though the weather was warm. All that we felt, all that we were together, was alive in the hideaway with us, existing outside of itself, shimmering like the warm light that touched all in its path in healing benediction.
In that space, I sat next to it, could feel its insistent but soft touch against the palms of my hands. It was as real and as close as the man resting next to me.
“Scarlett.”
“Hmm?”
“You are the most beautiful existence to me,” he said in Italian. “Your love is a religious experience. It changed me down to my soul.”
He became quiet after that. I couldn’t speak. Existing with him was enough. Then my eyes fluttered, and my body felt altogether too peaceful. He called to me in our own private language.
“Is it safe for us to sleep here?” I asked, answering him.
He grinned at that and opened his arms to me. I fell asleep wrapped in his embrace, blanketed by the sun and his fierceness, and he came to me not long after, in colorful dreams filled with life. We woke when the sun turned the island gold. Walking hand in hand back to ourbure, we both yearned for the everlasting night.
* * *
Whoever created the hammock was a genius, I decided. Given the fact that a shark almost had me for his meal, I was still iffy about ocean water. No matter how clear it was. My husband, on the other hand, practically frolicked in it. I wouldn’t have been surprised if he would’ve tried to call another beast for the fun of it.
