But he had to be realistic. She was a demon and he an angel. They could never be together, ever. And reminding himself of his assignment, he acknowledged they were on opposite sides. He needed to focus on Cristóbal. He must protect him against Belinda and her party at any and all costs.

As he began to build his stamina and resistance, he heard a siren's voice behind him call his name, "Fernando," and all his resolve disintegrated as his heart swelled with affection. He turned to behold paradise's perfection in her face, his ears still tingling from hearing her sweet voice.

His heartbeat quickened and his mouth numbed. He tried replying, but it was futile.

The vision of her in her red dress with her black hair flowing freely around her shoulders dancing with the ebullient wind left him dumb.

She walked up to him and smiled. "I see you are an early bird as am I."

"Uh-huh," was all he managed to leak from his lips.

Admiring the horizon and the rising sun, she sighed. "It's beautiful, isn't it?"

His gaze never leaving her face, he responded, "There is much beauty to behold this morning." And once the words slipped from his lips, he wished he could silence them. What would she say or how would she react?

But to his surprise, she glanced at him, catching his stare and then lowered her eyes, blushing. A moment later, she turned to him and lifted her face to look at him. "So how long have you been sailing the seven seas, Fernando?"

"Uh…many years." He hadn't expected the question and hoped his gaze wasn't shifty when he replied.

"Have you always been a first officer?"

Think, man, think! He swayed from one foot to the other. "No, this is my first voyage as that. Cristóbal Colón found me worthy of the position."

"How long have you known Cristóbal?"

"Not long, a few months," he lied.

She leaned in, then lifted her seductive gaze to meet his eyes and whispered, "What specifically does Cristóbal plan to do after he leaves the Canary Islands?"

Oh, temptation curse him! All his dreams hit him instantly. How many times had he wished and imagined her being this close to him? He wanted to touch her porcelain white face, every curve of it perfect. Her full, ruby lips and her dark, exotic, almond-shaped eyes hypnotized him.

For a brief moment, he lifted his hand to do just that, but then his cowardice took over and he brought his hand up to his head and combed his hair with his fingers.

Taking a deep breath for courage, he spoke. "He travels west as I told you last night. He has charted a shorter route to the Indies."

She laughed, throwing her head back. "That is madness! The Indies? Going west, not east?"

He nodded. "No, it isn't. Cristóbal has been studying the charts for many years, and if there is another, shorter passage to the Indies from the west, he will find it."

Coughing to clear his mind, he asked, "And you, Vizcondesa, will this be your first trip to the Canary Islands?"

She shook her head. "No, I've been there several times since I have family there."

Lifting a brow in intrigue, he asked, "And speaking of family, your sister seems as sweet as you, but your brother, the vizconde, is-"

She frowned and completed his sentence for him. "Is a loud mouth brute who keeps embarrassing my sister and I."

After the words left her lips, her expression softened once more as if she had cast away the negative thoughts of the vizconde. Then she leaned in even closer so her perfume tickled his nose and she placed a hand lightly on his shoulder, lifting her brow in a flirtatious way. "So you find me…sweet?"

He almost lost his bearings then. Had he said that? Yes, being an imbecile, he had.

He opened his mouth to respond, but only, "Uh…," escaped, and then quietness.

Their physical contact and the instance of silence between them were reactive. It was as if the magnetic pull of the earth's core suddenly turned on them, bringing them closer together inch by tempting inch.

Amato couldn't resist his urges any longer. He knew it was her physical contact with him that caused it, but he didn't care. He wanted to touch her, hold her, kiss her passionately. And so he did. He lowered his head, tilting it sideways, and brought his lips to hers.

The moment they made contact, a shock of coldness flowed through him and then heat, surging heat that turned his body, his sexual organ, and his mind to madness for her, for her body. He brought his hands to the back of her head as his tongue pushed open her lush lips and probed her hungry mouth. Her tongue came to meet his and they looped each other's in a dance of lust.

Amato lowered his arms to wrap around her waist and he tugged her closer to him so their bodies melded practically to one. He could feel the rise and fall of her chest as she panted with arousal, her plump breasts rubbing against him through their clothes with every desperate breath she took.

His cock rose in demand and he knew she felt it hardened and engorged because she moaned with pleasure, bringing her arms to his back and rubbed her fingertips up and down with urgency. Each stroke of her bewitching fingers brought him that much closer to insanity.

Her excited reaction meant only one thing-she wanted him to continue to intensify this. Sweet mercy, he would abide her wishes. He lifted her into his arms then, catching her by surprise as he heard her deep intake of air. But she didn't stop, didn't react negatively to it. Instead, she giggled knowing he meant to bring her someplace no one could see them.

Years, even centuries, of wondering would soon be over. As he carried her in his arms to the stern of the ship, where they could easily hide behind some barrels and equipment, he imagined one last time what it would be like to make love to Belinda, the Enchantress. Would he reach a paradise far better than Heaven, or would the gates of Hell open and devour him whole?

One thing was for sure. He would enjoy every sacrilegious second of it.