We are still holding hands. Okay, we should let go. This is the point where it would be normal to let go. Why aren’t we letting go? I force my gaze to the Grand Bassin. He does the same. We’re not watching the boats. His hand is burning, but he doesn’t let go. And then—he scoots closer. Just barely. I glance down and see the back of his shirt has crawled up, exposing a slice of his back. His skin is smooth and pale. It’s the sexiest thing I have ever seen. He shifts again, and my body answers with the same. We’re arm against arm, leg against leg. His hand crushes mine, willing me to look at him. I do. Étienne’s dark eyes search mine. “What are we doing?” His voice is strained. He’s so beautiful, so perfect. I’m dizzy. My heart pounds, my pulse races. I tilt my face toward his, and he answers with an identical slow tilt toward mine. He closes his eyes. Our lips brush lightly.