his chest or pressing his forehead against hers, or running his hands over her face as if to check she was still there. But here he was, doing all of that ridiculous shit and more.
“Jesus Christ,” he panted. “I thought you passed out or something! I thought you were drowning.”
She paled. “I’m sorry. I just—”
“You’re too far out! You shouldn’t be so far out when no-one’s on the beach!”
“I’m a really good swimmer,” she said, her tone soothing. “Like, really, really good. I can swim anywhere.”
“I know that!” He was overreacting. He knew he was overreacting. She was pregnant, for God’s sake; she wouldn’t take on more than she could handle. She’d be careful.
But he wanted her to be more careful. With everything. Always. You know, just in case.
“I’m sorry,” he said finally. “I… I just, I saw you and I thought you—”
“It’s okay,” she said. “It’s okay. I’m fine. See?” She smiled, and he felt her cheeks plump up beneath his hands—which reminded him that, oh, shit, he was still holding her face. He let go, but she put an arm around his shoulder and they floated there for a moment, alone in the ocean’s vast jaws. His heart, gradually, slowed.
“Let’s go back to the beach,” she said, and even though he’d come crashing to her rescuing, it felt like she was the one looking after him. He nodded, and her answering smile was gentle, soothing.
For once, he felt like being soothed.
She hadn’t lied about being a good swimmer. Hell, Samir was a good swimmer, but she cut through the waves ahead of him with effortless speed and strength, as if she belonged to the sea. When the shore grew close enough for her to stand, watching her emerge, dripping-wet, in her clinging, black dress was like watching a mermaid transform. Almost unnatural, but beautiful, too.
She sat on the sand and watched him come to join her with a smile, wringing out her hair. It was long enough that the action drew his eye toward her hips, and then, through the soaking-wet fabric of her clothes, to the prominent curve of her stomach.
The reminder of her pregnancy should’ve cooled the white-hot flame she ignited in him. It didn’t.
It did, however, piss him off.
He sat beside her and started scolding all over again, as if he’d never stopped. “You shouldn’t have gone out there alone. I don’t care how good a swimmer you are. You could—you could faint! Pregnant people faint all the time. And then you’d drown.”
He saw her lips twitch slightly, but she murmured, “You’re right.”
“Or you could get a cramp and… sink… or something.”
“I could.” She nodded solemnly.
He scowled. “For fuck’s sake. If you want to go floating off into the ocean, call me first, okay? Call me, and I’ll come and watch you.”
Her brows rose slightly. With her hair sleek and mirror-shiny, her cheeks whipped pink by the wind, and her lashes dripping salt-water crystals, she looked like a mermaid all over again.
Like a siren.
“You’d come just to watch me swim?” she asked.
“I’d come to keep you safe.”
Her smile faded. “I don’t need a keeper.”
He couldn’t hold back his snort at the idea. “Of course you don’t. But sometimes you might…” He trailed off, shrugging. “Sometimes you might want a partner.”
Her eyes widened slightly, as if she’d seen something she’d never seen before. Samir watched her lips part, then press together, then part again. Her fingers sank into the sand between them. She looked out to the sea, down at her lap—or rather, at her bump—and then back to him.
She started to speak.
And then, of course, the heavens opened.
11
Running over sand in a thunderstorm would be easier if her stomach didn’t resemble an especially heavy beach ball. Laura was kind of struggling—until Samir put an arm around her, and caught her hand with his free one, and practically pushed her along. And just like that, they ran. She was barefoot and already drenched, and the wind dragged her hair across her face in a wet slap every chance it got. But despite all that, she laughed.
It must have taken them a while to reach the house’s back porch, but it felt like no time at all. She almost slipped as her feet met the cold tiles, but he caught her. His arm came around her from behind like a steel bar, somehow fitting into the non-existent space between her swollen belly and her equally swollen breasts. Then his other arm slid around her hips, and his