licking at her until she thought she would die of pleasure. The kiss was extraordinary, producing a heady sensation that made her brain feel fuzzy.
“Sebastian,” she whispered against his mouth as he licked at her. “We need to discuss things. Please.” She pushed against his chest, praying his will was stronger than her own. Right now all she really wanted to do was throw him down to the ground, straddle him and ride him until the sun came up, which she knew would happening in just over thirty minutes. That still wouldn’t be enough time, she knew, to get her fill of him.
He took a step back and bowed. “I am sorry.” The pain on his face made her stomach clench. “I will leave.”
“No!” She grabbed at his arm. “That’s not what I meant. I want to know who you are, and how it’s possible that you’re here, right now. Why have I not seen you anywhere else? And how can you be here, at this spot at the exact same time three mornings in a row?”
The pained look on his face intensified, and she stroked his cheek. “Tell me.”
“It is part of the curse. For one hundred and eighty six years, I have come to this cove every morning to watch the sunrise. The voodoo priestess who bound me said it would teach me humility, to see what I had lost, to know I had one hour a day to enjoy life.
The ability to form words escaped Michelle as she processed what he had said. She replayed it in her mind, knowing it sounded impossible, but the proof of it stood in front of her. He wore dark breaches that looked as if he’d just put them on, but it was obvious they had been hand-sewn. His chest was bare, as were his feet. His blond hair streamed over his open shirt and down his chest and back.
“You’re a male sleeping beauty,” she said softly. “Except instead of a wicked step mother, there’s a voodoo priestess.”
“If you wish,” he winked at her and then licked his lips, “perhaps we should try the kiss again, to see if it breaks the spell.”
Nervous laughter rocked her body and she hugged her arms around her waist. “I’m afraid if I kissed you we wouldn’t stop. I want some more answers first. Do you remember what happened?”
He shrugged. “I remember going to visit Sarya, the slave girl who was my lover. The witch led me to a clearing where they placed me on an altar. I was deep in my cups, and don’t remember much about that night.”
Sebastian stopped talking and looked back at the ocean. Michelle could almost feel the sting of his memories, and she stepped up next to him.
“Go on.”
“The next night I awoke here, in the cove. I screamed at the witch, told her I would have her whipped. Then she explained that I was selfish, a horrible man. She said Sarya wished to wed and I wouldn’t let her, that I thought only to keep her for myself.”
Michelle tried to tamp down the threads of jealousy she felt about Sarya. What should it matter now, anyway?
“Was it true?”
“Sarya belonged to me. She served me in my bed.”
Michelle formed a rebuttal in her mind, but he spoke before she could open her mouth. “I was wrong, though. The witch explained to me that Sarya loved Nadim. At first I was angry, saying I would have him sold, break them apart. But as the mornings passed, I realized how selfish I was.”
He ran his fingers through his hair, which spread out in the wind. “On the eighth morning I was prepared to tell them how wrong I had been. But no one came. Not the priestess. Not Sarya. No one, until you.”
His voice cracked and Michelle swore she saw tears in the corners of his eyes. “How is it you know how long it has been?”
“When I awaken the number appears in my mind, and then suddenly I am here. I watch the sunrise, I mourn the loss of my life, and then I sleep again.”
What he was saying was so surreal. And his obvious pain ripped into her, making her heart ache. “Sebastian…” Words failed her and she wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. “How