Gabriel stretched and took a drink of water as he nodded into the phone and stared over the rim of his sunglasses into the pure cloudless sky. The blue stretched as far as he could see, and the blazing sun beat down on the three other yachts stretched out in a line like the advanced front of an approaching armada. “We’re ready,” he said into the phone. “Commencing the ritual in three minutes, on your mark.” Hanging up, he let his gaze fall on the girl’s tanned, topless body and met her smile. Annabelle sat up and fixed her hair, no longer even blushing at Gabriel’s attentions. “Can’t we linger a bit?” “You heard me. Three minutes.” He licked his lips as she stood and stretched and reached for a white robe—one of a pair. She tossed the other one to him and then slipped into hers. Gabriel came closer to her and tied her belt for her, looking into her tender eyes, and as always, thought of running barefoot through a lush verdant forest, hand in hand with her. Lost in the woods, but exactly where they were meant to be.
