-Seven Years Ago-

"All aboard, losers!"

Dom waved his captain's hat at the group that shuffled over the plank connecting the dock to the catamaran. Four guys, five girls, and full access to his father's below-deck bar. The sun was bathing them in all its Mediterranean summer glory, and the water beckoned with unseen adventures.

A champagne bottle popped at the mile mark, and flowed freely the rest of the afternoon.

"This was a great, idea, Dom!" said his friend, George, raising his flute.

"Yes! Thanks for having us aboard," said Katie with a wink. George's barely-legal cousin was quite the looker, practically bursting out of her itsy-bitsy red bikini, but Dom had no interest in her. He'd only organized this little excursion to spend more time with one girl, and her name was not Katie.

Clara sat on the bow, her golden mane streaming behind her.

"Hey, George! Take over," said Dom. George snatched the captain's hat off Dom's head as they exchanged positions at the helm.

"Wanker..." Dom muttered.

"Ah! Correction, that'd be Captain Wanker, now," said George, tilting the hat sideways.

"More like Pirate Wanker," said Dom.

"All I'm missing is a parrot," smirked George.

"Right." Dom rolled his eyes. "If modern pirates wore Armani and had champagne for breakfast." As soon as he said it, he paused. Glanced back at George. "Yeah, actually never mind." That would be exactly the sort of pirate George would be.

He strode to the bow where Clara said and sat down next to her. "It's beautiful, isn't it?" he said, pretending he was looking into the horizon that just happened to be beyond the outline of her profile. She was so beautiful, it sometimes hurt. That is, it hurt not to be able to put his arms around her whenever he felt like it—which was all the bloody time.

She turned her head towards him, resting it on the rail. "It is," she said, lazily gazing at the coastline behind him.

"Beautiful," he said again, unable to take his eyes off her. He inched a bit closer. "You left without saying goodbye the other night."

She looked down and chewed her lip for a moment. "You looked like you got into an argument with your dad," she finally said. "I didn't want to intrude."

Dom snorted bitterly, feeling guilty as hell. Should he have told her? The rational part of him knew that would be the right thing to do, but the selfish part said she'd find out regardless, it didn't have to be from him.

"You don't have to tell me if it's private," she said quickly, blushing.

He looked at her, memorizing the lines of her face. The gentle curve of her neck, cherubic cheeks ruddy from the warm wind, the supple lips that had tasted like wine and berries the other night.

You'll find out sooner or later. And when you do, you will hate us. You will hate me.

"It's not important," he said, smiling in what he hoped was an encouraging way. Clara didn't seem convinced, but she didn't press, either.

Two champagne flutes appeared in Dom's vision. "You can't watch a sunset without this," said Katie, pausing for a moment with her breasts at Dom's eye level, holding one glass out for him. Some people wore their floaties, others had them implanted. Dom stopped himself before shaking his head. Was she blind? Clara was right there, he was taken—or, rather, smitten—thank you very much. There was only one siren for Dom.

"Er... thank you, Katie," said Dom with a polite smile, smoothly taking both drinks and handing one to Clara. Katie paused for a baffled moment, then walked back to her girlfriends, a flash of irritation crossing her heavily made-up face. Clara didn't have a smidge of makeup on her, and she shone brighter than the sun.

"To a wonderful summer," said Clara, holding his gaze. That look made him feel warm all over.

"And to many more, even more wonderful ones," said Dom, locking his eyes with hers as he tipped his glass back and emptied it. She blushed and quickly looked away. He loved having that effect on her.

The night cooled off pretty quickly after the sun went down, and with it, their little adventure was nearing its end. Clara and Dom talked the whole way back, about anything and everything, as if no one else was on the boat. When he noticed her shiver, perhaps encouraged by a few drinks, perhaps still drunk on the kiss from the other night, Dom moved to sit right behind her, pulling her into him and wrapping his arms around her. She leaned back into his chest and sighed contently, and Dom could now honestly say he knew what a snowman would feel like in the summer. He was putty in her hands and wondered if she knew what she did to him.

"Hey, lovebirds! I can't moor this vessel alone," said George.

Dom reluctantly tore himself from Clara, giving her a kiss on the head almost as a reflex before he rose. He didn't even think about it, it was the most natural thing to do in the world.

Docked and packed, the group quickly made their way onto the pier.

"You coming?" George asked.

"I'm just going to hang back and tidy up a bit," said Dom. "You know how the old man gets."

"Want us to help out?"

"No, no, you guys go ahead." He glanced at Clara, wishing she'd stay, but knew better than to embarrass her by asking in front of the whole group. Katie looked up at him with hungry eyes, and he hoped and prayed to five different deities she wouldn't get any ideas.

Please, Zeus, don't let her come back onto the boat. Or whoever is listening. Krishna. Budha. The Loch Ness Monster.

They said their goodbyes and Dom went to the bar littered with half-empty glassware. He set about cleaning when he heard the sweetest sound.

"What can I do to help?"

So that's what butterflies feel like.

He turned around and found Clara standing there, a shy smile on her lovely face.

"You didn't have to stay," he said, unable to stop his smile. "But I'm glad you did."

He could tell she was blushing even if he couldn't see it in the dark.

They set out to working quietly, side by side, not-so-accidentally brushing against each other in the galley as they cleaned and put things in their place.

Dom entered the below deck quarters just as Clara was heading out, meeting in the narrow vestibule that had just enough room for two people to pass by sideways. They locked eyes and knew that neither was going anywhere.

He looped his arm around her waist and pushed her against the wall, while her fingers wound their way into his hair. She smelled like salt water, coconut, and something floral. The taste of strawberries and champagne was far more intoxicating on her lips than drunk from a bottle. He'd been thinking about this all day long.

She held onto him for balance, sun-tired, tipsy, and more than anything, dizzy from the feel of his tongue on hers.

He moved them to the bedroom where they landed on the cool covers that felt amazing in their sun-warmed skin. Dom was beyond any coherent thought. He just wanted to get closer to her, wanted to remove all barriers between them and explore her body with his kisses.

Out of breath, Clara pulled back abruptly. Dom noticed something changed when a guarded look crossed her face. She wouldn't meet his eyes. "What's the matter, love?" He smoothed her hair back, searching her face.

"I... I've never done this before," Clara said, biting her bottom lip. Bloody hell, what that did to him.

"You don't have to do anything you don't want to." He meant every word. Normally he was impatient, self-absorbed, and would drop a girl that was a tease but did not deliver, but Clara was different.

"No It's not that. I want to," she said, looking up into his eyes. "But I am not experienced, and I know that you, well..."

You are kind of a slut, Dominic, he finished the sentence in his head.

All he could think was how beautiful she was. How selfish was he for being thrilled that he'd be something for her that no other guy ever could: her first. "You are the most beautiful woman I've ever met, inside and out. Clara..." her name was a prayer on his lips as he slowly descended on hers, savoring every second. He knew he had no right to kiss her, but he couldn't stop himself. He'd fallen, hard. Some small part of him hoped that he could show her how he felt, and Clara would know it was true and she'd still love him when she found out what his family had done. He had one chance, this one night. He knew that it would all fall apart when they got back home, and could only hope that the two of them would remain standing.

But could they remain standing together?

Dom pushed that thought aside and lost himself in Clara, knowing deep down that their first time together would also be their last.