Charon's Crossing

"And you?" she whispered. Her fingers slipped down his chest, over the waistband of the Levi's, and stroked the taut fabric that strained over his erection. "Do you like that?"

He caught her wrist, and his whispered reply sent the blood racing in her veins, and then he stripped the black and white leaves away with such slow, exciting care that by the time he pulled off his own clothes, carried her down with him onto the settee and slipped inside her, she was half-delirious with need.

"Tell me you love me," he whispered.

"I love you," she said, moving blindly beneath him, "I love you..."

He drove deep into her, and the world shattered.

* * *

In late afternoon, she put the suit on again. Matthew donned a pair of the new denim cut-offs and they made their way down to the cove.

The water was warm, the surf gentle. They swam and played and, eventually, Matthew challenged Kathryn to a race for shore. She charged out of the water first and he shouted that she'd cheated and he tackled her and they fell to the sand together in a heap, laughing.

"For shame, madam." He was gasping for breath but that didn't keep him from straddling her to hold her down. Water streamed from his face and hair. "You won but only because you resorted to subterfuge."

"I won fair and square," Kathryn panted. "You just don't want to admit you've been bested by a woman!"

"You pinched me, just as we reached shore."

"Me? Me, pinched you? Nay, Captain. You met up with a sand crab."

He grinned. "A sand crab, hey?"

"That's right. And if you don't let me up..."

"What?" His smile tilted, and suddenly they were both aware of the hot sun and the warm sand and the way she lay beneath him. "What will you do, if I don't let you up?" he said huskily, and he bent slowly toward her.

Kathryn's lashes fluttered to her cheeks. Her lips parted in anticipation...

"Kathryn?"

Her eyes flew open at the sound of the intrusive voice.

"Kathryn? Up here, on the cliff."

Matthew let go of her and she rolled onto her belly and looked up. It was hard to see, in the glare of the sun; she shielded her eyes with her hands.

"It's your attorney," Matthew said. "And that handyman."

"Amos? And Hiram? But that's impossible. Amos isn't even on the island and Hiram would have phoned..."

"Impossible it may be, but they are here, nonetheless."

Matthew stood up. He knew he sounded curt and cold—knew, too, that it was wrong. This was Kathryn's house; these people were of her world. They had every right to be here. It was only that the day had been so perfect. It had been so easy to forget the truth.

Kathryn scrambled to her

feet. "I didn't expect them. Honestly, I didn't even know—"

"Kathryn?"

She turned towards the cliff and looked up again. Amos was looking down at her, his hands cupped around his lips.

"Will you come up? Or shall we come down?"

Go away, she wanted to say, just go away and don't ever come back.