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tilting her head so she met his eyes. “Thank you.”
    Her lips quivered and refused to smile. She was horrified to find tears so close. “Don’t make me rescue you again.” Her voice was husky.
    “I promise.” He kissed her lightly on the mouth, a caress of cool wet lips. His thumb brushed away a tear mingling with the water on her face.
    She shivered.
    “You’re cold, angel. You need heaven and a hot bath.”
    “I need you.”
    He released her. “No, Sara. You rescued me. The least I can do is not mess up your life. And if you’re feeling sorry for me—”
    “I’m not.”
    His mouth quirked, but he continued. “I’ve survived worse, angel. Though Khan did surprise me. I’ll be more careful next time.”
    Sara shuddered and disguised her reaction by wading out of the billabong. The water streamed from her sweater and jeans. Rather than kick off her sopping boots, she vanished them and her socks. The sandy beach was cool and rough under her feet.
    She looked back at Filip, who was still in the water, alone.
    “I’m not leaving,” she said.
    He’d been tortured and survived it, but he needed someone with him. He needed an affirmation of life and its tenderness. He needed her to be brave.
    “But you’re right about the wet clothes.” Sara stepped up onto a rock where the moonlight caught her figure. “I need to dry off.”
    She grasped the bottom of her sweater and peeled it over her head.
    Filip waded out of the billabong, his expression in shadow, but the set of his shoulders was stern and determined.
    Hurriedly, she fumbled with her jeans and wriggled the wet stiff fabric down her thighs.
    “Sara,” he admonished.
    Her face was hot with colour as she bent over and forced the jeans over her knees. She stepped out of them and straightened as Filip reached her.
    “White cotton bra and panties,” he said.
    She glanced down at her body. The thin cotton outlined the press of her nipples and her mound. A shiver of arousal surprised her.
    Filip turned away. “Cover up, Sara. I don’t have time for games tonight.”
    She looked at his tall figure, still in its wet clothes. Shadow and moonlight played over the slick leather jacket. Even as she watched, he shrugged it off and it vanished before it hit the ground. Another blink of the eye and he wore dry jeans and a white shirt. He concentrated on rolling up the sleeves, staring out across the billabong, away from her.
    She took a deep breath and unhooked her bra. “I’m not playing, Filip. I’ve learned that much, tonight. I know to respect what’s real.” No barriers, no games, just an offering of herself. A sharing.
    It took real courage to slip off her panties.
    “I’ve never been naked beside a billabong before.”
    He spun around.
    She wished she could read his expression, then he stalked closer and she saw the grim line of his mouth. “Filip?”
    He grabbed a blanket out of thin air and wrapped it around her. “No, Sara.”
    “Why not? You wanted me in the library. You teased me, here, before. You said you wanted to be inside me when I came. I want you inside me, now.”
    His knuckles showed white as he held her blanket together, trapping her in its folds. “What about love? You said you wouldn’t have sex without it.”
    She watched his hands and heard the harsh note in his voice. “Maybe I’ve grown up?”
    “Abandoning your ideals is not adulthood.” He pulled her, blanket and all, into his arms. “God, Sara. Don’t let me destroy you.”
    “You aren’t. You won’t.”
    “I want you.” He parted with the words reluctantly, each syllable grating.
    She rose on tiptoe and kissed his mouth. “So take me.”
    ***
    Perhaps a better man could have resisted her. Filip was only a djinni and Sara was the embodiment of enchantment. He’d clung to her in the billabong, feeling the world right itself and the memory of agony ease from his body. She was warm and alive, a promise of sanity and compassion. But then she’d offered him