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the Flanigan Falls, here the water spilled down a hill of jumbled rocks, lush with ferns and other greenery, and divided into several streams before splashing into the turquoise pool. The water looked deep near the falls, but became shallower on the other side, and she wondered why no one was around.
    Angelina sat on her horse watching the hypnotic dance of the water and feeling sadness for a girl who’d once happily ridden to another waterfall, excited and in love. The hurt that lay in store for her…. She glanced at Rafe. Would history repeat itself?
    ~~~
    Rafe watched Angel, wondering what she was thinking. Like him, was she remembering the past?
    They dismounted, and Rafe short-tied the reins to a limb of a towering sand pine. A long time ago, someone had trimmed away the lower branches, except for one used as a hitching post, the scaly red bark worn smooth from generations of use.
    Rafe sat on a rock to pull off his boots and socks, then shucked off his outerwear.
    Angel took her time undressing. But when she bared her body, her golden curves barely concealed by small triangles of shiny fabric, Rafe had to do everything he could to keep his hands off of her. Over the years, he’d probably seen thousands of women in bathing suits, but none affected him like Angel.
    To distract himself, Rafe rolled up his clothes and tucked them in the saddlebag he’d brought for that purpose. “To keep them safe from Chachi. I can’t guarantee the safety of our hats though.”
    Angel folded up her clothes and handed them to him.
    Once he’d secured them in the saddlebag, Rafe pointed at the pool. “The water’s warm.” He raced the few steps to the pool and dived in, swimming deep to touch the bottom before pushing off to the surface. The water was crystal clear and almost too warm from the hot springs combining with the cold waterfall on a hot summer day. Definitely not chilly enough to cool his reaction to seeing Angel in a bathing suit. He had a moment of wishing for the cold Montana pool at the bottom of Flanigan Falls to quench his ardor. Coming up for air, he waited for her to join him.
    Her hair was loose in a mass of curls that bounced when she followed his lead. She dove in next to him, emerging with the water shining on her skin, her thick eyelashes clumped together.
    Rafe tipped his head, indicating they swim across the pool. Side-by-side, they stroked to the shallow end. When he knew the water was waist high, he stood.
    The weight of the water pulled Angel’s hair into long waves, which flowed all the way to her waist.
    Rafe fingered one tendril, then in an instinctive reaction, wound the strand around his wrist, twisting until his hand reached her face. He used her hair to gently reel her closer. With his other hand, he cupped the back of her head and tilted up her face.
    Her lips parted. In that moment, Rafe remembered doing this very gesture in a snowmelt pool under a blue Montana sky, with the sound of Flanigan Falls in the background. Their first kiss on a magical day.
    The memory surged through him, unbelievably sweet and nostalgic. A time as different from now as could be. Yet…the promise of more was there, as strong as ever.

CHAPTER SEVEN

    Rafe’s heavy-lidded eyes gazed knowingly into hers.
    Tethered by her hair, Angelina found herself fighting the ache in her throat. Was this really happening? Was she going to allow herself to become intimate with him?
    Angelina felt torn, as if she were two different people. One was the detached and rational lawyer. The other ached for Rafe, wanted and needed him, and knew this encounter had been inevitable from the moment her father asked her to fly to Seeker’s Island.
    Passion darkened Rafe’s smoky eyes. Dipping his head, his lips only a few inches away, he paused, giving her time to reject him as she had the night before.
    Angelina arched her back to close the distance, longing for the feel of his lips on hers, a return to an earlier time of innocence.
    But