Leander hears the echo and, grinning, turns his face to nuzzle her palm, her fingers.

It wasn't meant to end up this way. There are more reasons not to do this—it's just that those few in favour are very good reasons. Who doesn't like attention? Familiarity? The brush of bare bodies together? Kisses interrupted by playful squirming, tugging, kicking his trousers from the bed. Shirt peeled off like an unwanted skin—and beneath it, the scarred skin of his arms made whole, pale and perfect.

With any luck, their hosts will think them both at rest and stay away for the rest of the afternoon.

(River? What river?)