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Martinique

French West Indies

April 1831

“One kiss, ma Sapphire douce, one kiss, else I will perish,” the handso both hands to his heart where he stood chest-deep in the pool of crystal blue-green water beneath the waterfall

Maurice wore nothing but a pair of buff doeskin breeches, soaked through and clinging to his body like a second skin, and the sight of his bare,hair slicked back over his head o weak “You’ll have to catchher hips provocatively beneath the transparent shift she wore for her late-afternoon swim

Maurice lunged forward, his hand striking out, but she turned and dove headlong into the pool, touching the sandy bottos straining for air

“Got you!” He caught her ankle and began to drag her toward hi his hands up her bare calf

“No!” Sapphire squealed, kicking her free leg and laughing “Release me, kind sir”

“Not until I haveback, Maurice found his footing on the sandy bottoain and pulled her into his arms

Surrendering at last, Sapphire looped her ar her aist-length auburn tresses to fall over her shoulders and dip into the water Closing her eyes, pressing her hips to his, she reveled in the feel of Maurice’s body against hers

Maurice had caught her eye at a ball last autumn when he and his brother Jacques had returned fro plantation She’d felt the ht they lances across crowded roos, and she’d fallen madly and hopelessly in love with Maurice, and he with her Visions of a arden at Orchid Manor danced in her head Her only quandary was convincing dear, sweet Papa that Maurice was the right man for her—the only man for her

“Sapphire, we should return to the house,” Angelique called fro on their backs by the cliff that enclosed their favorite swi Re to the baroness’s harpsichord recital”

Only a year older than Sapphire, Angelique was not only the sister of her heart, but her best friend The two had been inseparable since Sapphire’s parents adopted Angelique Though ebony-haired and native born to the island, the daughter of a slave, Angelique’s skin tone ive evidence of her true heritage “I don’t want to go to dinner and listen to Papa’s boring English guests” Sapphire pouted, turning to brush her lips against Maurice’s “I’d much prefer to stay here”

“Perhaps you should return, ma petite,” Maurice whispered softly in her ear “I would not want to anger Monsieur Fabergine, my future father-in-law”