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“What the...”

“I thought you might enjoy a moonlight ride.”

“Great coggles,” she breathed.

There, at the bottom of the steps, was a long, low launch, a steam launch most probably, with a black lacquered hull that reflected moonlight and waves. There were polished brass fittings sparkling like stars, and a cabin whose doors were open now, but obviously would close against the weather when necessary.

“Is that yours?” She pointed and glanced at Cyrus, wide-eyed.

“It is.” He walked to the top step and held out his hand. “Welcome to the Nightglass. Will you come aboard?”

She should have been graceful and elegant. But instead, she let out a tiny yip of excitement and almost tumbled down the steps to get to the boat.

Cyrus couldn’t help but laugh as he jumped down beside her, grabbed her for a quick kiss, and made ready to cast off, untethering the boat, then pushing them away from the wharf. She’d surprised him by adroitly coiling a neat figure eight with the ropes on the deck.

A few minutes later, he and Maelin were standing side by side in the cabin with the engine vibrating softly under their feet.

“Ready?” He glanced at her.

“Aye aye, Captain,” she laughed. “Let’s go.”

Chapter Eighteen

The sensation of being afloat, of smoothly moving through the waves, enthralled Maelin. She’d forgotten how much she had enjoyed this part of being at the Tidehold Conservatory, even though their boats couldn’t hold a tiny candle to the Nightglass.

Standing next to Cyrus as he handled the wheel, so confident, so in control...well, it was enough to bring a huge lump into her throat.

So she stayed quiet, doing her best to settle her emotions and simply enjoy the wonderful ride.

“All right?”

She felt him glance at her, and smiled back. “Very much all right. I’m a Theryn, Cyrus. I swear some of us have a little salt water along with blood in our veins. We don’t think about it much, but at times like these? Well, if my heart had a voice it would be singing its delight loud and clear right now.”

“I’m...I’m very glad,” he murmured. And then he cleared his throat too.

The moon had risen, not quite full, but enough to cast its silver glow over waters that barely rippled. A smooth night for a smooth ride.

“Where are we headed?” she asked.

“I have a private mooring a little way down the coast,” he answered, checking his gauges. “We should be there in about five minutes or so.”

“You are a man of endless surprises,” she commented.

“I’m a man who didn’t believe in surprises,” he replied with a chuckle. “That was until I met you.”

“Oh, what a lovely thing to say.” She leaned against him briefly. “Comments like that make me forget the matter in hand, Cyrus. We can’t do that...”

“No, we can’t,” he agreed. “But there’s nothing wrong in taking a few moments for ourselves. Remembering that there are bright spots in the darkness. All you have to do is look for them.”

That was a sentiment she supported wholeheartedly, but decided saying so would be redundant. Tonight, in the soft darkness of the cabin and beneath a glowing moon, she would allow herself to relish the silence, the knowledge that the man beside her was changing her life, and that the troubles that had brought them together could wait for just a little while.

He slowed the engines to a murmur and steered toward a cement wall that appeared in front of the boat.

“Here we are. Take the wheel a moment while I tie us up.”

Cyrus walked away as she stared at him, and then stepped tentatively up to the smooth and shining steering wheel, holding it still.

The boat shifted as his weight moved to one side, the gentle rocking and soft sounds of the waves lapping at the hull soothed her.