Page 73 of Philippa Flynn’s Year of Panic and Piracy

She stepped in front of him, took the ewer from his hand, and set it on the table.

“Two little schoolboys called me out to play.” Her perfect teeth sank into her perfect lip as she smiled a perfect smile. “But they didn’t like the games I suggested.” She raked her fingernails down his bare chest in a way that had delighted him hours earlier but now set his nerves on edge. “They didn’t like losing, either.”

Zane drew in a breath, praying he hadn’t sent two of his best men to their deaths. A second sharply drawn breath followed, faint but audible, and Amorosa’s attention flew to the curtain. Zane grabbed her chin, yanking her face to his.

“I’ll play your games,” he said. “I’ll play all of your games.”

He kissed her hard, dragging her onto the bed, his desire for her only half feigned after the long hours they’d spent in hot pursuit of mutual pleasure. She resisted at first, but as he yanked down her chemise, palmed her breasts, and drew a peaked nipple into his mouth, she freed his straining erection and rode him with the passion of a lover and the violence of a monster, for she was both, as he knew now, and still he wanted her. He craved her. He needed her. He could forget the key. Why had he ever thought it was important? She was all that mattered, and he’d gladly sacrifice his ship, his crew, his quest, his everything to stay on this island with her forever.

Later, as she collapsed on top of him, with her skirts bunched around her hips as she straddled his groin, still holding him inside her like she owned both his body and his soul, a flicker in the darkness drew Zane’s attention toward the window.

Maud. He’d forgotten Maud, still tucked behind the curtain but carefully positioning a hand mirror so it reflected the sole of Amorosa’s bare foot.

On that sole was a single, stark tattoo. A tattoo of a key.

“Later, we’ll have to change that later,” Dylan says as we take a break to make sandwiches and discuss the next chapter. “Iris never skipped over the sex.”

“Fine, but only if we can rehearse it first.” I sneak him a quick kiss in passing. “At least we finally found a place to use a straining erection. Grams would be so proud.”

Dylan sends me a flash of amused side-eye. “No comment.”

I get out the mayonnaise and veggies as he plates the bread.

“I like Maud,” I say. “I think she’s underutilized.”

“We could have her help with the ink-to-silver spell.”

“We could, though we haven’t established her as someone skilled with magic.”

“She could deal the fatal blow in the final fight before they leave the island.”

“Maybe.” I consider this idea as I slice veggies and Dylan grabs the chips. “Though as archetypes go, she’s not really a mage or a fighter. She’s more of a scrappy thief.”

Dylan sets down the chip bag and steps up behind me, caging me against the counter and setting his lips against my ear. “We could make her Zane’s new love interest.”

I spin around, sparking with excitement for both his flirty closeness and his suggestion.

“Grams didn’t write that,” I say. “He’s all about Amorosa, even though he knows she’s manipulating him. She’s gorgeous, strong, and sensual, the kind of woman he always falls for.”

“Exactly. The kind of woman we’ve seen him with in thirty-four books already. Maybe it’s time to shake things up. Have him fall for a girl he isn’t immediately attracted to. Someone who doesn’t look perfect and charm a room simply by entering it. Isn’t that what you told me you wanted to see more of back in July? Less instant chemistry? More depth and reality?”

“Well, yeah, but . . .” I trail off, the idea already taking hold and playing out in my head with astonishing clarity. Zane and Maud escape to the ship to find the spell. They fight over how to execute it while building a grudging respect for one another. They get stuck in tight quarters while hiding from Amorosa, igniting the first hint of sexual attraction. We could even put them in a closet, honoring Grams’s favorite trope. Maud continues to glare, her guard up, while Zane starts seeking out those glares. By the time Amorosa’s island gets engulfed by fog and the two stand together on the deck of the Zephyr’s Revenge, him with a map and her with a compass, we’re desperate for a first kiss, one no one gets to see until the next book comes out.

Everything clicks into place. I’ve been clinging to the wrong things for weeks. I don’t need a realistic table to fully engage with this story. I need a realistic relationship.

Dylan laughs under his breath, still caging me in. “You should see your face.”

I manically pat at it. “What? Why? Do I have tomato on my cheek?”

“You have excitement on your cheek. And in your eyes. And in your smile.”

I cover my mouth, instantly self-conscious, but Dylan draws my hand away.

“Don’t. It’s beautiful.” He smiles down at me, softly, and when I beam up at him in response, he presses my hand against his chest while he traces the lines of my face as though my expression is something rare and precious and he’s trying to memorize it before it disappears.

The thought stings, knowing what might come, but I let it go before it sets in.

“Do you think we can take that much license?” I ask.