“Do people in the twenty-first century still dance?"My heart beat thundered in my ears, far louder than the slow music. "Um," I said, barely able to swallow, my throat had gone so dry. "Sometimes.""How about now?" he asked.And then his strong arms were encircling my waist, his breath soft against my cheek as he gently whispered my name: "Susannah. Susannah....”

“Susannah." My dance partner's breath was soft against my cheek. "Susannah...."Yeah. In my dreams.In real life, the voice calling my name wasn't a bit masculine. That's because it belonged to a twelve-year-old boy.”

“My throat tightened when I noticed a small tattoo of an origami rose on his upper arm. . . "Hey, Lenzi," he whispered, barely louder than the surf."Rose," I said as our lips met. "My name is Rose.”

“Al pulled me into him, and numb, I felt his arm curve possessively about my waist. “Too late,” he whispered, his breath shifting the hair about my ear, and we jumped.”

“He lifts my hand from the root and presses it to his bare chest, over his heart. My breath stops. I wonder if he can feel the pulse racing in my wrist, because it’s beating just as quickly as his heartbeat.“Do you know the Ai’oan word for heart?” he asks.I shake my head.“It’s py’a.” We’re so close, his whisper is right in my ear, and his breath warms the side of my neck. “You are my heart, Pia”I lick my lips. When did they get so dry?His other hand cradles the back of my head, tipping my face upward. “A body can't live without a heart. And I can’t live without you.”

“He placed his hands against the Jeep on either side of my head and leaned forward, forcing me to press back against the door. He leaned in even closer, his face inches from mine. I had no room to escape."Now," he breathed, and just his smell disturbed my thought processes, "what exactly are you worrying about?""Well, um, hitting a tree -" I gulped "- and dying. And then getting sick."He fought back a smile. Then he bent his head down and touched his cold lips softly to the hollow at the base of my throat."Are you still worried now?" he murmured against my skin."Yes." I struggled to concentrate. "About hitting trees and getting sick."His nose drew a line up the skin of my throat to the point of my chin. His cold breath tickled my skin."And now?" His lips whispered against my jaw."Trees," I gasped. "Motion sickness."He lifted his face to kiss my eyelids. "Bella, you don't really think I would hit a tree, do you?""No, but I might." There was no confidence in my voice. He smelled an easy victory.He kissed slowly down my cheek, stopping just at the corner of my mouth."Would I let a tree hurt you?" His lips barely brushed against my trembling lower lip."No," I breathed. I knew there was a second part to my brillant defense, but I couldn't quite call it back."You see," he said, his lips moving against mine. "There's nothing to be afraid of, is there?""No," I sighed, giving up.Then he took my face in his hands almost roughly, and kissed me in earnest, his unyielding lips moving against mine.There was really no excuse for my behavior. Obviously I knew better by now. And yet I couldn't seem to stop from reacting exactly as I had the first time. Instead of keeping safely motionless, my arms reached up to twine tightly around his neck, and I was suddenly welded to his stone figure. I sighed, and his lips parted.”