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“I want you,” I finally manage. I lick my lips, trying to measure my words in a way that won’t leave room for misunderstanding. In the end, they tumble from my lips, as blunt as blocks. “I never stopped wanting you. But I know what my life is like, Juliette. It’s not safe and not luxurious and not one I could ever ask you to submit yourself to. You deserve the best of everything life has to offer, and I can’t give you that.”

“Maura.” She takes a step toward the tub, then stops. “Don’t you think I should be able to decide what I want for myself?”

It sounds so reasonable. It is reasonable. But that ignores some really vital differences in life experience. “What you know of the world—”

“I’m going to stop you there.” She holds up a hand. “If you’re about to tell me that I don’t know enough to make this decision for myself, then I’m going to be required to put my clothes back on and storm off. Can we just have a truce? At least long enough to bathe?”

I’m doing it again, boggling this despite my best efforts. Maybe it’s better if we don’t talk at all. “Yes. Truce.”

She eyes me warily as if she doesn’t believe me, but she does finish crossing the distance between us and climbs into the tub. Juliette lets out a low moan. “This is exactly what I needed.”

I watch her breasts bob gently in the water. Yes, this is what I need, too. “I would like to wash your hair.”

“Maura, I don’t need…” She meets my gaze. I don’t know what my face is doing, but whatever it is makes her nod slowly. “I’d like that.”

She shifts forward, and I slip behind her, settling her between my thighs. There’s a small table next to the tub with a wide variety of bottles in different bright colors. I eye them and the labels shift, magic translating the words to a language I understand. I blink. That’s some hefty magic. Translation spells aren’t cheap, but normally they’re tattooed onto a person rather than an object. For the witch to have this many of them casually sitting around speaks of the kind of power that makes my skin prickle.

Except…

It wasn’t just the witch. The names on the buildings were readable, and the monarch spoke in a language I recognized. I shiver. There must be magic on the whole island, which is convenient but also mildly terrifying.

I shove it out of my mind and grab the shampoo bottle. It feels so damn good to work the soapy liquid into the dark strands of Juliette’s wet hair. I go much slower than I need to, suddenly determined to see every inch clean. It doesn’t hurt that she gives these sweet little exhales every time I massage her scalp.

“I’m still mad at you,” she moans.

“I know.” I guide her to rinse her hair. The shampoo is something floral that makes my head spin. It’s not a conscious decision to skate my fingers over Juliette’s shoulders, but her shiver makes me do it again. “Juliette—”

“No.” She turns and presses her fingers to my lips. “Don’t ruin it.”

She kisses me before I can tell her that I have no intention of ruining it. I almost draw away, almost press to talk about the future, but then I remember how I continually fuck things up with words. Instead of pushing her away, I grab her soft waist and pull her closer.

Yes. This. This is what we need.

I will show her that I have no intention of sending her away.

That I want to keep her.

Forever.

12

JULIETTE

I must be a special kind of fool. It’s the only explanation for my current position, naked in a tub with Maura, her mouth on mine. But no matter what else has changed between us, this hasn’t. Her hands on me, pulling me tight to her lean body as if she wants to merge us together in a permanent way. As if she can’t stand even a breath of distance between us.

As if she loves me.

I can’t think about that right now. If I do, I’ll go down the road to our shared past and start wondering where it all went wrong. I don’t have Maura for very long. This will be the last time we collide like two shooting stars against the night-dark sky.

If I can never have her again, I want every memory I can store. It’ll have to last me the rest of my days.

Maura urges me to straddle her, and the bathtub is more than big enough to make that comfortable. I have half a mind to drive this the same way I drove our encounter in her cabin, but she doesn’t give me a chance.

She digs her hand into my hair right at the base of my scalp and tugs. It’s not a harsh pull, but it sends a shock of pure need through me all the same. She kisses her way down my jaw to my throat, giving me just a hint of her teeth. I can’t stop shaking. It’s creating little tremors in the water, and maybe another time, I’d hate that outward proof of how much she affects me, but I can’t think about that right now. I can’t think of anything but her.

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