Page 9 of Ocean's Whisper

She fixed her gaze determinedly on his face, fighting the urge to let her eyes wander over the rest of him. Despite her best efforts to maintain eye contact, she was acutely aware of his nakedness—the broad shoulders, the defined muscles, the radiating heat of his skin even through her wet clothes.

Something electric passed between them. The air itself seemed charged as though the ocean had summoned a silent storm around just the two of them. His thumbs moved almost imperceptibly against her collarbone, and Isolde felt a shiver that had nothing to do with her wet clothes or the night air.

It's my birthday,she thought absurdly.Thirty years old, and the ocean delivers this... this vision of a man straight to me.

Maybe it was the aftermath of nearly drowning and being saved by him. Maybe it was the surreal quality of the moonlight on the deserted beach. Or maybe it was simply that for once, she wanted to do something completely unexpected and completely for herself.

Isolde rose on her tiptoes, her hands finding his solid chest, and pressed her lips to his.

For one terrifying heartbeat, he remained motionless. Then his arms encircled her waist, pulling her flush against him as he deepened the kiss with a hunger that stole her breath. His mouth claimed hers with confidence, his tongue sweeping past her lips with assured possession. One hand slid up her back to tangle in her wet hair, tilting her head to allow him better access.

Heat coiled low in Isolde's belly as his other hand splayed across her lower back, pressing her closer against his hard body. She could feel every inch of him, every solid plane ofmuscle, every inch of bare skin radiating delicious warmth that penetrated her wet clothes.

This is insane,her normally sensible mind protested weakly.You're making out with a complete stranger—a naked stranger—on a deserted beach in the middle of the night after nearly drowning.

The thought was enough to break the spell. Isolde pulled back, breathless, her lips tingling and her heart pounding against her ribs. She stumbled back a step, putting distance between them, her mind reeling from what she had just done.

"I—I'm sorry," she stammered, pressing her fingertips to her lips. "I don't know what came over me. I never do things like this."

The stranger's intense gaze never left her face. His posture remained relaxed despite his nakedness as if being completely bare on a moonlit beach was the most natural thing in the world for him.

"It's fine," he said, his voice a deep rumble that seemed to vibrate through her core. His lips curved into a slight smile that transformed his hard features. "Are you okay?"

That simple question—offered without judgment—made something unravel inside her. Isolde hugged herself, suddenly aware of how ridiculous this all was. Here she stood, soaking wet, having just kissed a naked stranger who'd somehow pulled her from the ocean.

"I think I might have hit my head," she confessed, tugging at a strand of her wet blonde hair. "I went for a walk along the beach to clear my head, and then I remember..." She frowned, trying to piece together the fragments of memory. "A massive tidal wave. It was heading straight for me and the research station."

She looked at him, doubt clouding her sea-blue eyes. "But that couldn't be possible, could it? It had to be my imagination, right?"

The man crossed his arms over his broad chest, the movement drawing her attention to the defined muscles there before she forced her attention back to his face.

"There was a tidal wave," he stated matter-of-factly. "I saved everyone at the station like I mentioned a few minutes ago."

Isolde stared at him, her brain struggling to process his words.

"That's impossible," she blurted. "That kind of thing doesn't happen here. I work for the research station. If there was a storm predicted or any issues, I would have known about it earlier today. We would've been prepared."

She began pacing in a small circle in the sand, her scientific mind racing through possibilities. "I mean, a tsunami caused by an unpredictable earthquake could make sense to some degree, but still..."

Her voice trailed off as she looked back toward where the research station should be visible in the distance. Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see debris scattered across the beach. A sinking feeling settled in her stomach.

The stranger stepped closer, his presence commanding the space between them. The moonlight highlighted his face as he regarded her with an expression that was both intense and calculating.

"There will be no record of an earthquake," he said, his voice dropping to a lower register that sent an involuntary shiver down her spine. "Because the wave wasn't caused by that."

He took another step toward her, closing the distance she had created. Despite his nakedness—or perhaps because of it—he radiated a primal authority that made Isolde's breath catch again.

“Youcaused it."

The words hung in the air between them as impossible as they were definitive. She stood frozen, her mind rejecting the very concept. She, a marine biologist who spent her days cataloguing dolphin behaviors and analyzing water samples, had somehow created a tidal wave powerful enough to destroy a research facility?

Her mouth opened and closed, but no sound emerged. The certainty in his voice was unnerving as if he were stating that water was wet, or the sky was blue. Not presenting a theory but declaring a fact.

By me? That's... that's...

For once in her life, Isolde Morgan, who could lecture for hours on cetacean migration patterns, who could name every species of coral in the North Atlantic, found herself completely speechless.

FIVE

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