Disclaimer: The Twilight world is the property of Stephenie Meyer; no infringement is intended.

The sun's heat felt wonderful, bathing my body in warmth. My arms dipped in and out of the water, glittering anew each time the light struck them. Bella's hands, so naturally warm and soft, glided over my hard flesh. She never seemed to tire of seeing the effects of full sunshine upon my skin.

My own hands would never tire of touching her in every single place that I desired. Each curve; every lovely finger, toe, and limb; each gorgeously soft breast; every inch of her smooth and supple back; the rounded flesh of her glorious little backside; and the hidden treasures between her creamy thighs—I could caress, kiss, and taste all of it for eternity and I would always want more.

I pulled her to me, pressing my mouth to hers as the balmy water lapped about our hips. Bella's hair shone brilliantly in the sunlight, and her cheeks were a lovely pink. I made a mental note to rub some more sunscreen on her as soon as we left the water. I knew I should do it immediately so that she wouldn't burn, but I wanted another minute to hold her against me.

My palms skimmed her back, my fingers twitching to untie the evil little string that held her bikini top in place. She laughed, understanding my intent immediately. Her hot fingers slid beneath the waistband of my swim trunks, and she gave me a mischievous grin.

Since the night of our second love-making session, we had touched and teased each other freely and joyfully. I could still see dusky traces of the bruises I had left upon her arms and hips after our first night on the Isle, but there were no new ones. We had been intimate five more times, and I had not hurt her again. She had always trusted me. Carlisle, Esme, Alice, and Jasper had trusted me, too. But I had not trusted myself.

"Oh!" Bella cried delightedly, "look!" Her gaze swept from my trunks to the brightly colored fish moving through the clear water only a few feet away from us.

Bella turned and took a few steps, her motions slightly restrained by the water. I chuckled softly, loving her enchantment with the many new sights on the island. It was charming to see a simple fish elicit such a reaction from her.

"I believe it's a discus," I told her.

"It's so pretty!" she exclaimed. She took another step toward it. "Ow!"

"Bella?" I questioned immediately. My eyes moved down to see a small, red cloud beginning to billow around her foot. "You're hurt, love!"

"Stepped on something," she muttered, beginning to move back.

I was at her side instantly, lifting her from the water. My gaze quickly sought out the source of her injury. There in the sand lay a large, broken shell. She must have cut herself on the sharp edge.

I carried her out of the water then hurried along the beach until we reached the house. Blood dripped from her foot, staining the pristine, ivory sand. The light breeze helped to dissipate the smell, but by the time we entered the cottage Bella was becoming pale and faint. I could feel the cool perspiration peppering her skin, and her heart rate and breathing had quickened.

I darted to the kitchen to grab a towel, then set her upon the couch. She sank back against the pillows, her eyelids fluttering as she struggled to remain conscious. I knelt before her to lift her foot and press the towel over the wound. I waited about thirty seconds, stroking her ankle comfortingly while monitoring the pulse in her posterior tibial artery. I had left the French doors open, so fresh air filled the room.

Bella's eyes remained closed as I pulled the towel away. The bleeding had slowed considerably but had not stopped. I examined the wound, finding a three-centimeter laceration slightly above her metatarsal joint. I dabbed away the blood then gently probed the injury. Fortunately it was no deeper than the cutaneous layer, and the edges were smooth. It would not require sutures. It would, however, need to be cleaned thoroughly and properly dressed.

I was grateful that Carlisle had recommended that Bella receive a tetanus booster when he administered the yellow fever and typhoid vaccines that I insisted she have. Bella had been less than pleased by these, questioning the necessity even as she expressed concerns about our honeymoon destination. I had remained guarded in my responses, simply telling her that the inoculations were a precaution, as we would be traveling through several airports, exposing her to numerous individuals while on the airplanes. She had agreed—somewhat reluctantly—and had permitted Carlisle to give her the injections, probably in part due to his sincerity as he told her that he wanted her to be as healthy as possible when she was changed.

I stood and quickly deposited the used towel in the laundry hamper, taking a fresh one on my way back to the living room. Bella's eyes were half open now, and a faint hint of color had returned to her cheeks. I wasn't even sure she realized that I had been gone; it took less than three seconds.

I wrapped the clean towel around her foot. The bleeding had nearly stopped, but I didn't want the metallic smell to bother her any more than absolutely necessary.

"It's not too bad, love," I told her, taking her hand and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "It doesn't need stitches."

"Oh, that's good," she replied a little breathlessly, then, with a wan smile added, "Sorry."

"It's not your fault, sweetheart," I said quickly. "I should have seen the broken shell… I'll be sure to check the water before we go in again."

She nodded. "I'm sorry you have to deal with it now, though."

"I don't mind." And it was true. The scent of her blood—even fresh and pungent—did not tempt me as it once had. I kissed her quickly on the lips then said, "Just rest for now. I'll get something to clean this up with," before dashing away again.

I had stowed the bag of medical supplies in the back of the linen closet. Now I retrieved it from its hiding place and darted back to Bella. I set the duffel on the floor beside her, opening it to rummage about for the supplies I would need. I pulled out Betadine and antibiotic cream then found the saline, empty syringes, and bandages. I set everything on the low table in front of the couch then excused myself once more. I needed to wash my hands and get another towel or two before I began.

I left Bella reclining against the pillows, her foot propped up on the table. When I returned, she was sitting up ramrod straight, a strange expression on her beautiful face. She looked surprised and… angry?

"Bella?" I questioned. "What's wrong, love? I'm sorry it took me a few moments—"

She shook her head dismissively and lifted her hand to point inside the bag. "Edward, what… what is all this?"

In my haste to remove the supplies I would need, I hadn't realized that I had displaced a number of other items, too. The large duffle bag was almost entirely unzipped, contents spilling out on the floor.

"It's just some basic first aid supplies," I replied, but even to my own ears the casual tone I affected sounded unnatural and forced.

She reached down to pick up a surgical suture kit and a set of retractors. "I've never seen these in a first aid kit—and believe me, I've seen plenty of first aid kits."

I swallowed, a mixture of remorse and regret filling me. "I just wanted to be prepared…"

"Prepared. For what?"

But her wide eyes and disappointed expression told me that she already knew the answer.

To be continued...