the nighttime sky, that was clear and glittering with stars. And then, slowly, she swung her wide eyes to his again and asked, “Are you sure this isn’t heaven?”
Chapter 5
D iego was both pleased and troubled by her reaction to the haven he’d created. Pleased, because it gave him pride to share what he had chosen to surround himself with. The natural beauty. The place he’d worked on until it became his idea of paradise. And yes, heaven, because he would never see the real thing, being an immortal. Or if he did, he wasn’t sure he would be allowed in. Weren’t vampires damned?
The only thing his paradise lacked was the presence of other people. But he’d chosen to make it that way. And he’d protected his solitude with every power at his disposal.
But he was worried by her reaction, too, because she seemed to love Serenity Island just a little bit too much. He didn’t want her here any longer than she had to be. And that was a difficult thought to maintain while holding her cradled in his arms, her body resting against him, her arms linked around his neck.
She twisted to look over his shoulder, back at the house, a two-story structure of logs and cobblestones. “It’s like something out of a fairy tale,” she said. “Did you build it?”
He nodded, realized her striking sea-blue gaze was no longer focused on him and spoke. “Yes. Over the course of…several years.”
“But how?” she asked, her wide eyes meeting his once more. “There were lights inside…I saw—”
“I use the sun and the wind.” He pointed with his chin, since his arms were busy holding her. Her eyes followed his gaze to the windmill standing on the highest hill on the island, visible like a sentinel in the distance. He’d had to anchor it in place the night of the storm, but he’d since set it free again. Then he showed her the solar panels lined up on the roof of his home. There were more at the workshop. “Batteries store the excess. I’m never short of power here.”
She drew her eyes from the roof to gaze into his once more. “The world could learn a lot from a man like you.”
“I want no part of the world,” he whispered.
She swallowed, silent for a moment, searching, and he felt almost as if she were probing his mind the way he had probed hers. But she wasn’t capable of such a trick, was she? She was no vampire. And yet he felt himself erecting a mental barrier to his mind, the way he would do were some strange vampire trying to read thoughts he wanted to keep to himself.
“Where did you get the lumber?” she asked at length. “The stone?”
“From the mainland,” he explained. “A little at a time. All Maria could carry in a single trip, and then back for more when I ran out.”
“Maria?” she asked, tilting her head to one side.
The wind lifted her hair and made it dance. He nearly lost himself in watching it.
“My sailboat. The Santa Maria XIII. ”
She frowned very slightly. “That name inspires about a half dozen questions.”
He looked away. “It’s just a name.”
“Somehow I doubt that.” She waited, but when he didn’t elaborate, she went on. “And you live here all alone?”
“It’s the way I prefer it.” Had he sounded a little defensive just then? He wondered.
“I’ve been doing something very similar myself. Bought a sailboat and set out, all alone. There’s something about being one-on-one with the sea and the sky that just—”
“Nourishes the soul,” he said softly.
“Yes. And clears the mind. It feels…holy. Like a sacred pilgrimage, somehow. Is that how it is for you, too?”
“I…love this island. And I love the natural beings that inhabit it. Every plant and animal and bird. I’m not quite as fond of people.”
She nodded as if she understood that sentiment, but she didn’t elaborate. After a few moments she said, “The sky is so clear now. It’s hard to believe it was so violent only hours ago.”
He carried her to the log chair and