Belladonna

a rib cage partially buried under rust-colored sand. Then the currents, the river, and walls of water.
    "I seek Belladonna!" he screamed.
    Why do you seek?
    Going under. Going under. No chance of surviving.
    And in that moment, as he surrendered to fate, he felt the warmth of her as she leaned against him, as he wrapped his arms around her in dreams. Almost home. Almost...
    My heart's hope lies with Belladonna.
    Yes, the river whispered. Yes.
    Glorianna leaned against the wall next to her garden's gate, catching her breath and her balance.
    A heart wish that was full of joy and yet bittersweet. Separation and homecoming.
    Right here. On her island.
    She recognized the resonance of that heart. It had struggled to free itself from the Eater of the World, had almost pulled the Hater into her landscapes.
    Now that heart was here on her island — and Ephemera was responding like a pet whose best friend had returned home after a long journey. Responding like that to another heart here, on her island. The world doesn'trespond that way to Lee or Nadia when they came to visit. Didn't respond to anyone that way. Not here.
    Until now, something inside her whispered.
    Then she saw him coming up the path from the little harbor. He looked scruffy, despite clothes that appeared to be fairly new. And clearly the river had given him a hard ride, which meant he had tried to hide his true purpose in coming to the island. That was reason enough to be wary of him, even if he hadn't come into her landscapes in such an unusual way.
    He stopped and looked around, his smile as warm as spring sunbeams after a long winter as he took in the grounds that were carefully balanced between created flower beds and the natural flow of the land. As he turned toward her two-story house, she stepped away from the garden. She didn't want him in her house until she'd taken a better measure of the man.
    Catching the movement, he turned toward her. Moved toward her.
    Another jolt of recognition when he got close enough for her to get a good look at his face. Here was the moonlight lover from the painting Sebastian had made for her. But that man had been a fantasy that was...
    ... as real as a dream, a wish, a desire.
    A yearning washed through her. It flowed into Ephemera's currents before she could stop it or deny its importance.
    But it didn't go beyond the island. Didn't have to in order to find fulfillment.
    More than wariness jangled inside her now. She wasn't sure she could — or should — trust the man coming toward her. But she knew with absolute certainty that, where he was concerned, she couldn't trust herself.
    He smiled at her and raised his hands as if to prove he held no weapons.
    No weapons? Ha! She'd wager he had toppled a good many women's defenses by wielding that oh-so-charming smile. And did he think she didn't notice his eyes doing that quick, assessing sweep men always did when they saw a woman whose body appealed to them and got them wondering if ...
    Guardians and Guides. Heat flooded her face when she remembered she was dressed in her grubbiest gardening clothes — and had been working in her garden all morning, so she certainly wasn't looking her best.
    Which meant the look of appreciation in his eyes was nothing but a deceit.
    You said once that the only man worthy of being loved was one who saw you in your gardening clothes and still thought you looked beautiful, her romantic side murmured.
    Shut up, she told her romantic side. "What are you looking at?" she growled at him.
    His smiled warmed. That son of a succubus was amused by her!
    "More than an image that haunts my dreams," he replied, his voice flowing over her like warm, silky water. "A woman. A beautiful, real woman."
    And because her stupid heart actually went pitty-pat in response to the words, she whipped her temper awake.

    "Wasn't sure that bit of a boat would make it," he said, still giving her that charming smile.
    "You'll have to be tested," she said, putting an edge in her voice to warn him she wasn't the least bit charmed.
    "Already was."
    When she didn't respond, his smile faltered. Good.
    "What is your name?" he asked.
    "Glorianna."
    He looked puzzled. And a trifle disappointed? But he rallied fast enough and polished up the smile.
    "It's obvious you passed the river's test since you're here," she said. "But there is another test."
    Now the charming smile gave way completely to frustration and a hint of ripening anger. Which only stoked her own temper since