Destination unavoidable, I savor the last hit of adrenaline before I release the rope, dropping the remaining fifteen feet. I grunt as my hands and knees take the brunt of the impact, the sand about as soft as a slab of concrete. A jolt of pain shoots up my leg from the old fracture.
Despite my body aching in protest, the faint sound of Collins’s voice spurs me toward the sloping edge of the cliff, where the drop-off isn’t as drastic.
Searching out a crevice, I wedge my boot into the rock face and begin to scale down the incline. A loose rock dislodges beneath my hand, and I latch onto a jutting stone before my feet find purchase on a large shoreline boulder.
The tide has come in, filling the narrow clefts between the sea stacks. The raging surf crashes against the slate stones, sending a wild ocean spray over Collins as she clings to one of the boulders.
“Hold on—” I shout, my voice cut low by the savage bursts of waves that continuously batter the rocks.
Bracing myself for the icy bite, I drop into one of the deep crags, sucking in a sharp breath as the briny water reaches my thighs. I fight the current through the hollows, the swelling tide nearly toppling me over, until I reach her and heave myself onto the jagged edge of the boulder.
Across the gray-washed dark, lit only by the stars glinting silver off caps of foam, my eyes connect with hers.
And my lungs seize, speared through by the same unnerving sensation I feel every time I see her. Bathed in mist and eerie light, her dark hair wild from the spray, clothes soaked and molded to her curves—fuck, she’s so beautiful it’s painful.
“What are you doing here?” she demands, just as a wave crashes over us. She hunkers low on the rock before once again spearing me with those unearthly teal eyes, their intensity heightened by the fear I find cresting there.
“That’s what I should ask you.” A blaze of anger lights up my sternum, so sudden, I grit my teeth against the impact. “Why the hell are you out here putting yourself in danger?”
Shock parts her mouth, and she frantically pushes her damp hair away from her face. “It was a warm evening. I went for a walk,” she says evenly.
Her feet are bare, shoes lost. She’s not wearing a jacket, just a flimsy white blouse and that same tight skirt. I situate myself on the rock as another hit of anger sharpens my voice. “Alone?”
“What—you’re angry with me? How was I supposed to know a crazy-high tide would come in within a matter of seconds?”
I dig my gloved fingers against the coarse surface of the rock, and my palm flares with a satisfying hit of pain. I could blame my heated response on the adrenaline still pouring through my veins, but I suddenly realize how fragile she is.
And that fucking near-transparent blouse clinging to her chest isn’t helping.
“Spring tide,” I say in a more controlled tone. As her mouth purses in confusion, I point toward the black sky. “Extreme high tides come with a new moon.” I glance at my watch, muttering a curse as I try to blink away the blurriness. “I think it’s close to ten. The tide will start to recede after midnight.”
“Wait… We’re going to be stranded out here for two hours?” She curls her slight body against the raised edge of the boulder and pulls her legs beneath her, wrapping an arm around her waist as a fierce shiver racks her body.
Some foreign emotion cracks open inside my rib cage. The same gravity that dropped me over forty feet on impulse now crushes me beneath its pulverizing weight.
I scrape my fingers through my damp hair, and a spike of alarm blazes through me. I ball my hands into fists before inspecting the injury. The sodden leather damn near shredded, salt water like fire against the rope burn, I’m relieved when I see only my palms sustained any damage.
God damn. I jumped off the observation deck for her—without any thought.
By the time I crawl across the uneven stone toward her, she’s unable to control the tremors attacking her muscles. Wearing only my oxford shirt, I have nothing to offer for warmth.
“You’re going to tell me something I don’t want to hear,” she says, her voice a quivering rasp.
I turn my face skyward, gauging the depth of darkness. This rock will be submerged in less than an hour.
As another violent spray sends shards of water down on us, I hold up my hand as a useless shield. “Come on,” I tell her. “I’ll help you wade through.”
Collins flattens her palm to the space beneath her collarbone, real fear blanching her features beneath the pale starlight. “I can’t…I’m sorry.”
“You can. It’s not yet that deep.”
Stubbornly, she shakes her head.
“I thought fire signs were more daring and adventurous,” I say to bait her.
Her pretty gaze narrows on me, an accusation banked there within the hidden striations of gold.
“Your ink,” I explain, letting my eyes fall to her covered wrist. “I connected the dots on the constellation pattern. Either you or someone close to you is a Sagittarius, I assume.”
