Chapter 13 – Magic

 

Burke felt atrocious. Sure, he was disappointed too, but he recognized how important this was to Kensie. He hoped that, after the shock of the setback passed, she would recognize what she had really accomplished.

He sat on the railing and idly kicked at the safe. So much effort for nothing more than a gallon of sweat wasted and the promise of very sore muscles tomorrow. It didn’t seem right that they had almost gotten killed for an empty metal box.

He was suddenly very angry at this Buckwell asshole. What kind of an idiot has a super-heavy safe and doesn’t put his prized treasure inside of it? It just made no sense. Did he have a second safe, one that was somehow hidden? Maybe, but that didn’t sound right to him. This one seemed awfully substantial to be a decoy.

Was it the wrong ship? What were the odds that another ship, with artifacts matching the time period of Kensie’s pirate, had sunk here instead of or in addition to Aberaeron Fortune? Almost zero. In the war books he’d read, soldiers being shelled during bombardments slept in existing craters because the chances of a second shell landing in it were too low to consider. This had to be the ship, and this had to be the safe.

Burke fell back on the approach he’d suggested earlier, when he instructed Kensie to tell him everything she knew about the theft and the crew of the ship. The data led him to one conclusion – that it all came down to keeping the treasure safe from less-than-upstanding men who wanted it. It was logical to put that treasure in a safe. You lock something away so that no one could get to it. But Buckwell had eschewed this idea in favor of another method. How else do you protect something from falling into the hands of the wrong person? How would he keep something so priceless away from others? Depending on the situation, he’d fight them, or make sure they knew the risk associated with fighting him, or he’d lock it away. If they couldn’t get to it, they couldn’t take it.

Or he could hide it.

Buckwell was a pirate at heart. Even though it was a cliché, history was replete with examples of pirates burying their treasure. But Buckwell probably wouldn’t risk leaving something this valuable behind. So he had to have hidden it somewhere on the ship itself. A safe, while secure, could be broken into with enough time and effort (he’d just proven that), and it kind of screamed “come look inside me!” so it would be the first target of thieves. Maybe Buckwell wanted his crew to think it was in the safe, perhaps even going so far as to tell them that to throw them off the trail.

But where could you hide something on a ship that was more secure than a safe? The only idea that made sense was perhaps under the deck planking or inside a bulkhead. But it would take time to hide something that way, and more time to recover it. Buckwell would have been far too concerned with making his getaway to spend time prying up timber, and he would likely have considered the possibility that he’d have to get off the ship in a hurry. No matter how he thought of it, a safe remained the best option.

Burke tilted his head, studying the thickness of the steel box as it lay on its back, the door hanging open like it was mocking him. Was it his imagination, or was the compartment not as deep as the body of the safe? One way to find out. He went to the conn, getting a tape measure from the tool box and measured the outer depth of the safe: 30 inches. Then he put the tape measure inside the compartment: 16 inches.

Interesting.

Dropping to his knees, he started running his hands along the back wall of the compartment. It was completely smooth to the touch, with no panels that could easily be removed or opened. Grabbing the screwdriver, he banged the business end against the outer walls of the empty chamber, listening to the pitch and timbre of the noise. Then he hit the back wall.

Clank.

It was definitely a different sound. More tinny, and the note had more of a vibration. He pressed his hand on it and pushed hard, but it didn’t want to move. Or did it? Perhaps it was his imagination, but maybe it shifted just a tiny bit, just a quarter of a millimeter, just enough to tell him it might not be completely solid.

He ran his fingers around the edge of the back wall, but there was nothing to grab, so he started running them along every inch of the inside, being more thorough in areas he could not see, like behind the lip of the opening, which was about an inch deep. An irregularity passed under his index finger.

Hello. What’s this? It was a small indentation, maybe half an inch square, and it felt like there were two seams running perpendicular from it, suggesting that it could be pulled like a lever. He carefully inserted the tip of the screwdriver into the tab and worked it for a few seconds until the lever moved.

And the back wall popped up about a half-inch.

***

Kensie’s mood had not improved even though some time had passed. She now had a tremendous headache, making her wonder if she was having some kind of stroke or embolism. At the moment, she wasn’t sure that such an affliction would be the worst thing in the world. She closed her eyes and put her fingers on either side of the bridge of her nose, squeezing in the hope of relieving the pressure or at least redirecting the pain. She heard Burke walking around and banging on things, and she hoped he was attempting to throw that fucking safe back over the side so she could be done with this whole mess.

“Kensie?”

“Burke, not now. I feel like shit.”

“I really think you should look at this,” he said quietly. With his voice devoid of fear or alarm, she knew there was no immediate danger, and beyond that she didn’t want to hear it.

“Jesus, Burke, leave me the hell alone!” She felt a little bad for snapping at him, but she had said that she didn’t want to be bothered, and Burke was ignoring that request. He deserved the rebuke.

Burke’s next words rumbled like an edict from the gods. “Kensington Prescott, you get your ass over here right now.”

That son of a bitch called me Kensington! Needing to release her anger and seeing the perfect opportunity to do so, she stood and whirled to face him, ready to settle his hash in no uncertain terms, but she came up short. The look on his face, the way she could see white around every part of his lovely blue irises, and the way he’d gone pale tempered any thoughts of vengeance. “What is it?”

“Come here. Give me your hand.” When she did, Burke ran it under the rim of the opening, making sure she felt the irregularity.

“What is that?”

“It’s a lever of some sort. Pretty damn well-hidden, I’d say. And it gets better.” He’d not released her hand, so he pressed it down on the back compartment and moved it around so she could feel the surface wobble.

An overwhelming wave of hope, fear, and outright panic exploded in her belly. “A hidden compartment!?”

“You said he was smart,” Burke replied. “Someone breaks into the safe, doesn’t see the treasure, he figures it’s somewhere else.”

“I never would have thought of that in a million years! What do we do?”

Burke handed her the screwdriver. “‘We don’t do anything. You are going to open this compartment and see what’s hidden in it.” He retreated to a position where he could watch her but from which he wouldn’t be able to see exactly what she was doing.

“You don’t want to help me?”

“This is your discovery, your treasure, your dream, Kensie. Not mine. You should be the first one to see it.”

What a gesture. “I owe you one, Burke. No, maybe a thousand, or a million.”

He licked his lips in a manner that appeared both anticipatory and lascivious. “And I will collect. But, right now, you should get to work.” He jutted his chin towards the safe.

Kensie nodded, gripping the screwdriver tightly to control the shakes that were overtaking her body. What if this part is empty too? The thought terrified her and shot yet another unhealthy dose of adrenaline through her system. She was a young woman, but didn’t know exactly how much more stress she could put on her heart before it decided to up and quit on her, and she’d overloaded it far too many times in the last 24 hours. Right now it was palpitating so hard and so fast she could feel her pulse in her ears, in her gums, and even in the tips of her fingers. She took a second and closed her eyes, drawing a breath to calm herself, and when she opened them she was better able to control her hands.

She found that pressing on the bottom of the false back caused the top to push forward enough for her to insert the tip of the screwdriver just the tiniest bit. It was a tight fit, and all she could do was work the tip of the tool back and forth to slowly get it a little further and deeper. Eventually she was able to get some leverage and, with a screech that made her think she was opening a mummy’s crypt, the metal came away faster and faster until she could get her slender fingertips around the edge and pull it completely away. It was heavy, requiring both of her hands to lift it completely out and set it to the side before she could peer in.

On a pedestal that was roughly the shape of a human head, she saw the Couronne Ornèe de Joyaux des Anges resting as if it were still sitting on display in the Tower of London, albeit on its side. The compartment exploded in glittering light as the sunlight struck the precious metal and perfect jewels, which seemed determined to shine with an intensity that would make up for the frustration of being locked away in darkness for 214 years.

Kensie’s vision tunneled, and she found herself unable to draw a breath. She had to put her hands on the opening to avoid falling forward and conking her head on the safe.

“What is it, Kensie?” Burke’s voice brought her back to reality, and she regained both her breathing and the coordination needed to reach in and touch the jeweled prize. When her finger made contact with the platinum, her skin tingled with a sensation she likened to some magic of the Couronne thanking her for liberating such beauty. Silly, she knew, but her emotions were running away with her, and she had no control over such thoughts. She pulled it out and held it up in front of her. It was even more beautiful in the direct sunlight, and she turned toward Burke so she could look at it and him in the same glorious gaze.

“Found it.” More tears, these of awe and triumph, sprung from her eyes. Like those that signaled her utter despair only a few minutes before, she neither tried nor cared to brush them away as they streamed unabated down her cheeks. She started laughing and sobbing at the same time, amazed by the pure elegance of the finding, overwhelmed by the power of the moment, and awed by how triumphant she felt. “Look at it,” she managed to say in hushed tones.

Burke leaned his head forward but did not get near to it, as if the artistry held a power he feared getting close to. “It’s amazing, Kensie,” he said softly. “I can see why Buckwell stole it.” His voice returned to a regular tone. “How’s it feel to be vindicated?”

Suddenly, Kensie couldn’t answer; her throat was tightening with a joy that threatened to burst from her cataclysmically. She could do little more than shrug, but Burke seemed to get it. Through the blur of tears, she saw his wide, earnest smile and knew that he understood what was going on inside her. The noise of the engine and the ride on the waves faded away and Kensie knew only that all was right with every part of her world. She felt a strong connection to the man who had probably been the last person to touch it. Whoever and whatever he had been, she now had a bond with the dead man that no other living human could ever claim, and that made her feel special.

Eventually, though, reality told her that she couldn’t just stand there like the Statue of Liberty with something worth more than the GDP of some small countries in her grasp. She pulled the Couronne back to her body, cradling it in her arms like an infant while taking a surreptitious look around the horizon. She felt like a criminal for doing so, but was nonetheless relieved that there were no other boats to be seen in any direction.

“What do I do with this thing?” she asked as her mind returned to its normal working speed and considered practical matters. “I mean, I can’t just walk back through duty-free in Grenada with this thing in my fist like a water bottle.”

“I’ve got some ideas about how to do that,” Burke said to Kensie’s relief. At least he was thinking ahead. She’d been so obsessed with finding the Couronne that she’d given nary a thought to how she would actually get it back to the states and to the proper authorities so it could be returned to the Queen of England. She wanted to hear his thoughts, but got distracted by the thought of actually delivering this sublimely elegant head dress to the head of the British monarchy made her laugh. “The goddamned Queen,” she mumbled.

“What?” Burke asked.

“It’s just amazing,” she responded. “I have something in my hands that is the property of Queen Elizabeth the Second.”

“I thought the government of England owned the Crown Jewels,” Burke protested.

“No,” Kensie corrected. “The current king or queen is the actual legal owner of all the Crown Jewels as per English law. The Crown Jeweler looks after them, but they are the property of the Queen.”

“I’ll bet she’ll be keen to get this back then, huh? Wonder what she’ll pay for it?”

“I don’t know that she has to pay anything. Legally, though, I think I’m entitled to salvage fees, which are 10% of the appraised value.”

“Yeah, that’s the norm,” Burke responded automatically before he did the simple calculation in his head, and his eyes nearly bulged out of his head. “That means, if you’re right about the value, Buckingham Palace has to cut you a check for $20 million!”

“That’s how I see it,” Kensie responded with the confidence of someone who’d already considered most of this. “I’m wasn’t after this for the money, but I’m not so philanthropic that I’m going to turn it down!”

“And that makes you my new best friend,” Burke said with uber-sincerity.

“Burke, however this all works out, I’m going to make sure you are taken care of. I couldn’t have done this without you, your ideas, your expertise, and your muscles,” she answered, making a show of letting her eyes wander over his upper body.

She expected Burke to be thrilled, but he seemed almost saddened by her words. “However this all works out,” he repeated. “That sounds an awful lot like ‘when I dump you for someone better, I’ll make sure I give you a nice payday.’”

Kensie would have imagined that nothing could tamper the high of her success, but Burke’s tone brought her right down with him, and she felt bad that he’d misinterpreted her words so completely. “Burke, no, not at all. First of all, I doubt I could find anyone better, but that’s not even close to what I meant.”

“You sure?”

“Yes, completely sure. When I came down here I had one goal – find the Couronne. Yeah, I’m human, so I figured I would make some money from finding it, but that wasn’t really my main motivation. I would become a success professionally. Show those assholes at the NAS that I was right and rub it in their faces. Get recognition from my peers. Write my own ticket for the rest of my career.

“Then I met you. And, at first, I wasn’t too impressed. Yeah, you were hot as hell, but you weren’t my type. You were rough, kind of rude, and a little gross,” she ended with a smile. “But then you showed me who you really are, and that man is someone I like – a lot.”

“Or maybe you just liked me enough to have a good time with me while drinking good rum upstairs at Arnhim’s.”

Kensie shook her head; he just didn’t get it. “Burke, I’m sorry you’ve been hurt after trusting someone.” She saw him look away at the mention of his past. “I’m not Jessica. I don’t have an ulterior motive and I’m not using you. Money doesn’t matter to me – not that much anyway. What matters to me is that you stood up for me and believed in what I was doing. Ever more than that, you made me feel wanted. I’m not the girl that men lust after, that men think about, that gets hit on at parties. I’m the nerd, the last one left alone at the end of the night, the friend. The smart one. You make me feel special, desirable – and sexy. I’ve never known a man that could make me feel that way about myself, Burke, and I like it. I’m not ready to give that up. Like I said, I can’t be sure how things are going to end up because this is such a unique situation, but that’s separate. Whatever happens with the Couronne doesn’t matter to me. If I get money, you get money. If I don’t, you don’t. I’m not the same person that walked onto your dock in St. Vincent anymore. I’m changed. I’m a new me, and I need you to make an ‘us’. That’s what matters.”

She lowered her gaze, slightly embarrassed by her sincere and emotionally-raw discourse. Did I go too far? “Anyway, that’s what I meant. I got the Couronne, but I want to be with you too.” She peaked back up, unsure of what expression she might see on his face. “Is… is that maybe what you want too?”

Burke said nothing for a moment. His eyes searched her face, but she had no idea what he was looking for. She studied him in return. His expression was fearful… but hopeful. After a minute that lasted about 100 years, he spoke.

“Eight years ago I lost everything because I thought I was in love and trusted that person. It kind of felt like life was teaching me a lesson because, since then, luck has skipped right by my door every single time. Nothing good happened for me. I was just getting by, surviving, not caring anymore. And then, quite recently, this aggressive, ridiculously adorable, intelligent, fascinating woman screamed my name one morning from the dock, waking me from a hungover sleep, and everything changed. It’s been scary and it’s been rewarding and everything in between, but I’ve loved every second of it. Maybe I’m desperate or crazy, but I know that the idea of you tossing me aside like some island fling would destroy my soul. I just want to be with you.”

Even with the power of her own statement, his words turned Kensie’s insides to jelly. Right then, she need to be with him; not in a sexual sense – although that percolated just below the surface. She wanted to become one with him, to wrap herself in those eyes and that smile and his desire for her and just be. The idea was so liberating that she stood and moved to him, to her man, to her lover.

She went to wrap her arms around him so she could see those cerulean eyes up close and get lost in them, but Burke intercepted her right hand. She felt him removing something from it and realized she was still holding the Couronne. “Let’s put this somewhere,” he said softly.

Kensie was so overwhelmed by Burke’s sincere declaration of his feelings for her that she’d completely forgotten that she held one of the greatest treasures in history in her right hand. Good lord, I’m being swept away! He was right, and she’d have done exactly the same thing if she was in her right mind. She let him take it, watching him place the Couronne in a clean, soft rag before placing the whole thing in a drawer, which he then shut and secured with a turn of the knob.

“Now, where were we?” he asked. Kensie had no doubt that he knew exactly where they were and was prepared to pick up right from that point. They wrapped their arms around each other but, as if by some unspoken agreement, they did not press themselves together frantically. Instead, they paused and shared a look. Kensie loved how Burke’s face was framed by the tiny reflections of sunlight as they glinted off the waves in the background, like a thousand Couronnes were behind him, their beauty framing his face with an effect that was surpassed by, but still diminished by, her lover’s countenance. His big, intense eyes possessed her, and in that moment she knew, without a doubt, that she was his. He had taken her, yes, but she had also taken him.

“Burke…” she moaned, allowing her lips to fall towards his until they met in a soft, impassioned dance. Kensie drank in every bit of him: his emotion, his passion, his body that was the envy of women everywhere. She loved saying his name. He was the fortune that she didn’t know she had been searching for, and now that she had discovered him, she would not let him go. She’d come looking for an amazing treasure and somehow found two of them – and she had no idea which she valued more, as if she could assign some kind of rank to either. Kensie’s kiss was an open invitation and a declaration that this man was hers and she would not give him up without a fight. Her kiss and her touch became more aggressive as her desire grew.

Burke allowed her to take what she wanted from him while staking his own claim to her body and spirit. She gave him the control he silently demanded, neither wondering nor caring that she was both vanquishing and acquiescing to him, acting as both conqueror and victim, dominant and submissive, master and slave, lover and loved.

Kensie pulled the thin strip of fabric of his tank top from his shoulder, baring his nipple, which she slid her fingers over to caress and squeeze. It was, like his lips, an impossible combination of strength and tenderness, and there was nothing to do but bite it. She did exactly that, breaking the kiss and moving her mouth down to it, using just the right mixture of tenderness, intensity, and fervor. Her tongue slid out, tasting the flesh further. Doing so was making her crazy; she couldn’t imagine what Burke was feeling.

She got a clue as she heard the intake of air that suggested he needed oxygen elsewhere, and confirmed it by sliding her other hand down over those holy shorts to discover that he was already at full attention. If she could to this to him so quickly, and he could return the favor, there seemed to be no limit to the depths their shared passion could reach.

“God, Kensie, stop,” Burke begged. Why would I do that? Kensie heard the begging, but knew damn well what he was really begging for. With fingers far more adept than the previous night, she worked his button fly herself to expose his manhood, gripping it firmly. Her hand felt tiny doing so, but that was just fine with her.

“Dammit, Kensie, I’m… I’m... ” She started stroking him, slowly and steadily, using her tongue and lips to capture the soft bud of flesh on his chest, sending him gyrating in pretty much every direction. She felt him push at her but she knew that, if he really didn’t want her touching him, he would have applied his power and done the job properly. He couldn’t, he wouldn’t, and his little games were more arousing than any touch or any tender words ever could be.

“Having a problem?” she teased. She loved pushing and taunting him, knowing that whether he acquiesced or resisted didn’t really matter. Authority and power in their sexual forum was like a blisteringly-powerful aphrodisiac that she responded to as much as he did, and right now it was overwhelming her to the point of not caring about much else. There was little danger to either of them as the boat cut through the waves on its programmed course to Grenada, but it wouldn’t have mattered if they had been driving a Ferrari at 150 miles an hour on the freeway. The risk, the concerns, the problems, they faded away under the torrent of pleasure.

“Goddamn you, Kensie, you’re such a…” He could not complete the sentence. What am I, Burke? A bitch? A tease? A slut? It didn’t matter what she was to him, as long as she was his, and right now those titles seemed more like labels of honor than insults. She started stroking faster and harder, feeling him grow and swell even further under her grip. His hips bucked in rhythm trying to make each stroke longer and harder and that much more satisfying.

Finally, as if he could stand no more, Burke caught her with a look that was hungry and menacing. He cut his eyes at her as if to scold, but she knew it was passion disguised as a threat, so she showed no fear. She also didn’t stop stroking him, pursing her lips in unspoken defiance.

Burke rose to meet that challenge. “Oh, you wanna tease? Lemme show you something.” With a move worthy of a ninja in a bad 80’s movie, he turned his body and used his arm as leverage to guide her quickly down to the deck, using his other hand to arrest their fall just before a violent impact.

Kensie oofed!, but was not injured. Well, if she had hurt herself, any pain was being subsumed by the glow of passion emanating from her legs, so she did not resist when Burke more or less tore her Tommy Bahama shorts from her body, pushed her bathing suit aside, and slid his head between her legs to attack her most sensitive area.

The sudden pressure hit her far more powerfully than she expected, and for a moment she could neither think nor draw her breath. When her body forced her to take in oxygen, she was barely able to let loose a curse of approval. “Ohh. Fuck!”

The oral assault was sublime, destructive, addictive, and Kensie feared it would be her end. This wasn’t normal. There was no way she should be feeling this good. He was taking her with an assault disguised as pleasure, and the feeling was driving the needle right off her personal scale. She grabbed the back of his head and pulled him into her more, not believing that his tongue could somehow drive her to greater heights of bliss, but it did.

“What are…? What the hell…? Oh, fuck, I can’t…” Confused by the overload of her nervous system, she thought to push him away but kept tugging him into her, like a schizophrenic unsure of what defined her reality anymore. Her vision tunneled. Am I dying? She didn’t think so, but if her life ended under this avalanche of felicity, she would go to her grave with a smile on her face.

Burke was only busy for a few seconds before Kensie felt her body pass the point of no return. She heard (or maybe felt) him grunt as she dug her fingernails into the bronze skin of his upper back, but he did not stop, leading her to arch her hips upward in a desperate attempt to get more pleasure from him. Part of her regretted the increased intensity, but another part of her craved it, and she exploded with an orgasm that surpassed the one from the previous night by an order of magnitude.

Kensie lifted her head and strained her neck, not to see anything specific, but because her release was generating so much energy that her muscles seemed to be her ignoring conscious control. A high-pitched noise reached her ears; a tiny part of her mind told her that something might be wrong, but then she realized she was wailing like a banshee. Even after she stopped, her mouth remained open as Burke continued making exactly the right moves. His stamina and vigor belied an urgency that told Kensie exactly how much he strove to please her, and that was almost as fucking sexy as what he was doing to her.

Finally, like a curtain coming down, the blissful orgasm ended all at once, but the afterglow was a different kind of pleasure she felt just as intently. She could do little more than collapse back down on the deck, panting frantically and trying to gather herself after the most intense physical reaction of her life.

***

Burke loved how fiercely he’d made her come, but was not yet ready to rest. He was still rock hard and needed his own release. More accurately, he needed that release with Kensie, and Kensie only. Without a second’s hesitation, he repositioned himself in order to enter her, rubbing himself against her so she would know what was coming. The message was received, and her languid smile told him she welcomed it. He wasn’t surprised. After all, she started it.

With a steady, powerful move, he slid into her. She was wet and ready, and her body offered no resistance as he felt the soft folds of her flesh envelop him. It occurred to him to wait, to give her a second to grow accustomed to his girth, but she showed no discomfort, so it didn’t seem necessary. He started pumping into her, and found that he instinctively matched his rhythm to that of the boat pounding through the waves, hitting a crest every fourth thrust. It felt natural, like their sex was in perfect harmony with nature. 

He wasn’t sure if Kensie felt it the same way, but she appeared happy with what Burke and the sea were doing to her. Even completely spent, she smiled wantonly and cracked open her eyes to look at him as he fucked her.

He couldn’t help but smile back. She hadn’t lied before; there was a difference in her now. She acted like she’d been awakened. Burke was skeptical that a sexual experience, even one as powerful as they’d enjoyed the night before, could be so transformative, but it must have played a part in making her the woman she’d become. She’d been attractive, intelligent, and interesting to him before her metamorphosis, but now she put out a siren song that pulled him inexorably to her, and to his amazement, it had very little to do with sex. To be able to touch her, smell her, and taste her – these were just added bonuses.

Kensie ran her tongue over her lips as she reveled in the moment, calling to Burke, so he adjusted his body to kiss them deeply while continuing to slice into her. It wasn’t easy – they bumped their mouths together more than once, leading to a few silly giggles, but no harm was done. Burke felt powerful but passionate, being able to please his woman with forceful strokes while getting – and giving, he was sure – such a transcendent tingle from the kiss. The different feelings combined into a multi-layered experience that wasn’t comparable with anything he’d ever known.

He was frustrated that he felt his body nearing climax so soon. All he could think of was enjoying this sensation and this moment for as long as possible, maybe forever, but no man could hold out against something so magical. He cried out into Kensie’s mouth and his body went into overdrive. Kensie laughed into his wail and, with a laugh, pushed her body up against each hammer-blow to make them that much more vivid and extraordinary. He had no choice but to break the kiss or risk one of them losing a tooth.

“Dammit, Kensie!” As good as the previous night had been, this was better, and that was unbelievable. Musta been the booze.

“What’s the matter, Burke,” Kensie said, sounding both breathless but exhausted, telling him she was nearing a second orgasm. “Can’t handle me?”

Burke wanted to protest her implication, but he lacked the energy to speak any more at the moment, so he decided to show her how very misplaced her question was. Like a marathoner at the end of the race, he summoned all of his will and drove into her even more urgently.

“Ohhh… yes, Burke. Yes!” The words were barely more than a moan, but her cries carried an erotic pitch that acted as the last straw and he exploded violently. He closed his eyes, seeing oddly-shaped designs on the backs of his eyelids. In the next second, he heard Kensie grunt and realized she was coming as well. She threw her arms around his shoulders and squeezed until they moved as one entity, one being, one creature.

The couple rocked together, doing their very best to wring every ounce of rapture from this enchanted moment, wishing it wouldn’t end but knowing that it must. Finally, Burke collapsed down, using his last vestige of strength to roll to the side in the cramped cabin to avoid crushing or smothering Kensie. They looked at each other’s sweaty, satiated face and grinned. It was all Burke could muster at the moment.

“Are you OK?” Kensie asked, taking his hand in hers. She held it for a second, and Burke had the feeling that it fit perfectly.

“OK doesn’t begin to describe it,” he answered. “I don’t understand what you do to me, but I’m addicted.”

She looked away, embarrassed, and Burke saw a tear form in her eye. “What’s wrong?”

Kensie swallowed hard and faced Burke once more. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”