Ciaran wondered if he should turn, leave her be, but then he realized she was speaking. To the bowl. It was a language he’d never heard, a touch guttural, rolling in other places. Unable to help himself, Ciaran drew nearer, and he saw there was a face on the surface of the water, a man, handsome, as dark-skinned as Brenna and even more dark-eyed. The man said something, grinned, and Brenna turned, looked at Ciaran.
“What are you doing here?” she asked.
“I saw you,” Ciaran said. “I thought you were going to drown. Is that man...dead?”
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