36

A RIBBON OF MOONLIGHT RIPPLED ACROSS THE PLANK FLOOR

as if it were the calm night sea. Angel slid from beneath the sheets, too much going on in her mind to be able to sleep.

The clock’s soft red glow said two twenty-seven. She needed to think and should have enough time to go for a swim, then get her legs back. She’d have to use the hair dryer in the guesthouse, but hopefully, she’d be able to crawl back beside Logan’s warm body before he woke. She smiled. Maybe crawling back in would wake him.

Her body tingled yet again, and goose bumps appeared—and they had nothing to do with the gentle breeze of the ceiling fan. They’d made beautiful music together, she and Logan. A symphony of sound and touch and taste, soft whispers, gentle sighs, the crashing crescendo of the final act…

There had to be some way to make this work. Her brothers had both done it, but Reel had wanted to live on land with his wife, and Rod’s wife was willing to make the sea her home. She had to figure out some wa