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“Easy.” His voice is right beside my ear.

I grab his shoulders, my fingers digging into the firm muscles beneath his wet skin.

“Did you hurt your foot?”

“Just my pride.”

His mouth twitches, but he doesn't let go. “You sure?”

I nod against his chest. “Yeah. I think the Mediterranean is trying to kill me.”

“Wouldn't be the first time you've picked a fight with something bigger than you.”

I should laugh. But his hand is spread across the small of my back, and the other is resting against my ribs, his thumb just beneath the edge of my bikini top. And I can feel every single calloused finger burn on my skin there.

“Can you stand?”

“Mm-hmm.”

He waits. I don't move. Neither does he.

The water reaches just above his waist, and I'm standing close enough that it barely has room to move between us. My hands are still on his shoulders, my fingers curled against his skin.

I lift my head. Big mistake.

Because Jude Hawthorne is looking down at me, and I don't think I've ever seen anything quite like the expression on his face. His lips are parted. His breathing is uneven. Those green eyes, usually so calm and guarded, are fixed on mine with an intensity that makes my stomach tighten.

I know those eyes. I've seen them filled with amusement, frustration, kindness. I've watched them soften when he talks to Indigo, darken when someone hurts the people he loves. But I've never seen him look at me like this.

Like he's fighting for control. And losing.

“Jude?”

His gaze drops to my mouth. Only for a second. I feel it everywhere, and slowly goosebumps start to cover every inch of my body.

“You’re shivering.”

“I’m not cold.” My voice is hoarse, needy.

Every cell in my body feels awake, as though someone has switched on a thousand tiny lights beneath my skin.

His gaze drops to my mouth again before he looks away. “Nora, you've been drinking.”

I blink. “What?”

“I just don't want you doing something you'll regret tomorrow.”

“I stopped drinking three hours ago.”

He closes his eyes for a second. “We need to go back.”

“Jude!”

He opens his eyes. They’re wild. “What, Nora? What do you want from me?”

His voice is rougher now, almost desperate, and the sound of it makes something inside me pull tight.

“I…” I don't know how to explain this.