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They drove in silence, hands clasped on the console.
When they got to the house, Matthew stepped from the Escalade, went to the passenger side and helped Mia down. His hands lingered at her hips; he bent his head and they shared a long, tender kiss.
The moon hung over the forest; it lay an ivory path through the trees, to the clearing, the sapphire pool, the waterfall. To the place that belonged only to them.
The night was hushed. Expectant. Even the creatures that hunted in these dark hours were still.
When they reached the clearing, Matthew turned Mia toward him.
“Mia,” he said softly.
No, she thought suddenly, not yet, and she put her hand lightly against his lips.
“You said you wanted to see me in this dress,” she whispered. “Now it’s time to see me out of it.”
His eyes darkened. He said her name, drew her to him and kissed her, gently at first, then more and more urgently. She kissed him back that same way, as if both of them feared what might lie ahead.
Slowly, one by one, he undid the buttons of the apricot dress. When it fell at her feet, he felt his heart swell.
Mia smiled.
“It was a secret,” she murmured, “between the señora and me.”
Her bra was made of sheer lace, the same color as the dress. So was her thong. Against her golden skin, under the tender light of the moon, she might have been a gift to him from the ancient gods.
Matthew kissed her mouth. The long column of her throat. He kissed the swell of her breasts as he undid the clasp of the bra. Then he cupped her breasts, kissed her nipples, teased them into aching buds with his tongue and teeth.
Mia reached for him. Pushed his pale gray jacket from his shoulders. Undid the buttons of his shirt.
He was beautiful, all hard muscle and tanned skin. She kissed his lips, his shoulder, his chest. Skimmed her hands across his taut biceps and down his flat belly. He caught her wrist.
“Mia,” he said roughly, “you’re everything to me. I want you to know that. No matter what happens next.”
She rose on her toes and kissed him. Then she slid her hand down under his waistband, wrapped it around all that hardness and heat, and he crushed her mouth beneath his.
The time for talking was past. Matthew stripped off the rest of his clothing, peeled the silk thong down her legs.
His name was on her lips as he took her down with him into the soft grass, then changed to a cry of wonder as he penetrated her.
“Matthew,” she whispered, rising to him. Moving with him. Meeting him, thrust for thrust, until she cried out again, until his face contorted and his head fell back and he came in a hot, endless rush, filling her womb…
Filling her heart.
Long minutes later, lying in Matthew’s arms, Mia sighed.
“You were right about this place,” she said softly. “I feel safe here. I wish we never had to leave it.”
It was the first admission either of them had made that they’d stolen these days from the fabric of time.
Matthew dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“This clearing will always belong to us, baby. Wherever we are, whatever happens, just close your eyes and you’ll be here again.”
Was that true? All at once, Mia had the feeling she’d never see this forest clearing again. She shivered, despite the warmth of the night, and Matthew’s arms tightened around her.
“What is it, baby?”
“Nothing,” she said quickly. “I’m just—I’m feeling chilly, that’s all.”
