Dara watched her former lover walk away and tried to burn into her memory the very vision of him.  She felt a moment of misgiving and guilt.  Sonny was a part of her life that she had sworn to herself was behind her.  The moment she had agreed to become Mrs. Justus Ward, Dara had promised never to think of Michael Corinthos again.

Such a promise was far easier said than done.  Dara’s memory was a fickle ally who chose the most awkward moments to bring thoughts of her intimate encounters with the handsome mobster rushing back.

Like last night.

Only hours after their arrival on the island, Dara was filled with an almost unbearable sense of anticipation.  The knowledge that she was once again near Sonny aroused her to a fevered pitch.  And Justus had reaped the benefits.

Dara smiled as she recalled the look on Justus’ face as she pushed him backward onto the bed and proceeded to undress him with her teeth.  Her writhing husband soon found himself unable to do anything but enjoy the sight, sound and feel of Dara’s hands, mouth and tongue on every inch of his body.

Somewhere deep within Dara knew that she should have felt some misgivings, a twinge of guilt.  Instead, the young woman had ridden her unsuspecting husband and imagined that he was someone else.

Michael Corinthos, to be exact.

Dara had closed her eyes, banished her conscience and allowed her thoughts to drift across the tropical island to where Sonny was at that very minute.

It had taken all of Dara’s self-control to lie quietly in her husband’s arms throughout the night.  That same control held her through a spontaneous session of early morning lovemaking initiated by an amorous Justus.

But as soon as her husband had risen to shower, Dara made her escape.  Somewhere along the beach she knew that she would find Michael.  The water had always been his refuge.  And if his people had informed Sonny that Dara was on the island, the young woman could only imagine how much in need of refuge the mobster was.

…And suddenly there he was.

Sonny, sensing her presence, had turned slowly her way and taken Dara’s breath away.  His tanned skin glowed a healthy bronze against the brilliant white of his t-shirt.  His handsome unshaven face made Dara’s skin tingle with the desire to feel the rough hairs scrape the tender insides of her thighs.

“You look good, Michael…”