Chapter 14
It was so cold and so dark and so sudden.
Nigel experienced a moment of panic before his feet found the ground, and he realized that, indeed, it was actually shallow near the pool’s edge.
He found his footing and surged up out of the water, his head emerging with a great gasp.
Streams poured through his hair, down his face and shoulders, plastering his unbuttoned shirt to his skin.
It was bracingly cold! But when he stood, his upper chest and shoulders were well above the waterline, and he immediately felt the contrast with the overwarm air.
Spinning in place, he cast about. Luna splashed a little ways from him, performing a backstroke and laughing, her smile so brilliant it nearly blinded him. Nigel shook water from his eyes, blinking fast. “Why, you little minx!” he roared.
Luna laughed again, her mouth moving, saying something he couldn’t hear through the water in his ears.
Then she swept her hand across the surface of the pool and sent a wave splashing in his face.
Nigel put up both hands to defend himself before setting his teeth and swiping a wave of his own in her direction.
Luna shrieked with delighted terror and immediately sank under the water and vanished.
“Miss Talbot?” Nigel’s eyes widened. He shook his head again, flinging droplets every which way. “Miss Talbot!” The pool was very dark here. It would be all too easy to imagine secret aquatic horrors lurking in those depths and—
A pair of hands gripped his ankles.
Nigel had just enough time to picture an image of deep-sea tentacles (which, even in the moment, he recognized was ridiculous) before he went over backwards once more. His bum hit the pool floor, but he surged upright almost immediately, sputtering and shaking his head and . . .
And was he laughing? Actually laughing? It felt so strange on his face, in his chest, in his heart. He hardly recognized the sensation. But it was there. And it was real.
Luna popped back into sight like a mischievous mermaid. She pushed hair from her eyes and blinked around, searching for her victim. When she spotted him, she raised her eyebrows, her smile tilting dangerously.
“All right, Miss Talbot,” Nigel said, uncertain if she could hear him over the waterfall’s noise, “you asked for it!”
Standing up out of the water, he ripped the outer shirt from his body and tossed it onto the rocky ledge.
Then, turning to face her, he began wading out as fast as he could go with his sodden trousers dragging him down.
Luna looked suddenly alarmed and shook her head swiftly, motioning with one hand.
She didn’t think he was really going to do anything to her, did she?
His foot came down.
And kept on going down over the lip of a steep drop-off.
A hideously unmanly sound burst from Nigel’s lips as he sank suddenly, horribly, back into the dark water.
Only this time, there was no place for his feet to plant, and his arms flailed uselessly, sending up a stream of bubbles.
Darkness closed in, and it was not unlike the sensation of falling into the Dire, only with fewer screaming eldritch horrors and more lakeweed around his toes.
Before fear could entirely set in, however, a pair of arms locked around his chest. In the same moment, he felt his feet touch bottom, and he managed to give a little push up.
Between that and the assistance of his would-be rescuer, he surged back toward daylight and broke the water’s surface with a gasp and a splash of both arms.
“Don’t flail about!” Luna’s voice spoke close to his ear. “Relax and try to go limp. I’ve got you, Mr. Grimm.”
There was no relaxing to be had, however. Not with her lips just brushing against his ear, not with her arms wrapped around him, and his shoulders leaning back against her chest. Nigel felt tension shoot through every muscle of his body.
“Relax!” Luna said again. “Gracious, you’re stiff as a board!”
She had no idea how true that was.
“Sorry I didn’t warn you,” she continued, kicking easily and drawing him back toward the shallow ring around the edge of the pool.
“It gets a bit deeper in the middle. Not terribly deep, only about seven feet I’d say.
But enough to be scary if you’re not expecting it. You can put your feet down now.”
Nigel did as bidden and found himself on firm footing once more. To his grave disappointment, Luna released him as he found his balance. She swam around in front of him, her face lined with concern. “Are you all right?”
“Yes, I think so,” he admitted.
Until suddenly, he was not. Because Luna stood upright. And that brought quite a lot of her out of the water and into his line of view. And despite her declarations that a slip was as good as a bathing costume, in absolutely no realm of reality was this the truth.
Nigel’s chest cavity hollowed out as his soul left his body.
He could see the outline of her brassiere under the satiny fabric. The delicate lace, clinging to soft mounds.
Heat rushed to certain quarters, and even though his lower half was still underwater, Nigel sank down abruptly and backed away from her.
Luna seemed to be mouthing something. Now that she was not so near, the sound of the waterfall interfered once more, along with the pounding of blood in his own ears. “What?” Nigel said, turning his head a little to one side.
She stepped closer, and he resisted the urge to throw himself backwards, splashing and flailing to maintain a respectful distance between them. “I said, is something the matter?” she repeated. “You look like you’re a bit off.”
“Erm . . .”
She looked around the pool, then motioned for him to follow her.
Sinking back down into the water, she glided away, very smooth and effortless.
Apparently, life in the Crimble Mountains growing up had afforded her ample opportunity to grow comfortable in a watery environment.
At least her body was submerged once more, and while that didn’t prevent his imagination from leaping in and volunteering its services, Nigel shut it down hard.
“Respect,” he muttered and closed his eyes. “You will respect this woman.”
Then, moving with extreme caution, he followed her around the edge of the pool to a little channel which flowed over into a smaller, lower pool.
This was far enough away from the waterfall that they needn’t shout to be heard.
Water lilies blooming from green pads abounded around the edges, and draping greenery cast it all in a lovely, filtered shade.
It might be a bit cold under ordinary circumstances, but with the atmosphere as sweltering as it was, it felt extremely refreshing.
“Ooh!” Luna exclaimed, swimming in among water lilies. “The stems are a bit ticklish, aren’t they?”
Nigel looked at her. He couldn’t help it. His eye was drawn back to her with irresistible force. She looked positively enchanting surrounded by those blossoms. Like a wild fairy-creature, too madcap to be seductive and yet radiating a profound attraction neither his heart nor his body could ignore.
He set his jaw. Then, reaching out, he plucked up a water lily pad and blossom and plopped them on top of her head. “Hey, now!” Luna exclaimed, whirling to face him. Trailing lily stalks hung over her eyes, and water dripped down her face. But nothing could repress that smile of hers.
Nigel sat down a little deeper into the water, pulling his face into mock-stern lines. “Serves you right, nearly drowning a chap.”
She laughed again and pulled the water lily from her head. “You’re cooled down though, aren’t you?”
Well, parts of him were.
Not waiting for an answer, Luna turned and surveyed the space into which they’d come.
“Those look like sunbathing platforms,” she said, pointing to outcroppings of flat stone, which extended over the lily pool at intervals.
“Your father really thought of everything, didn’t he?
This whole place is quite wonderful! I would have loved this when I was small.
I can easily imagine it with half-a-dozen little ones running around like maniacs all over the place. ”
“Yes,” Nigel acknowledged. “Dad definitely had more than two disappointing sons in mind when he built it.”
Luna played with the water lily, touching the waxy petals with one finger. “Maybe it’ll fulfill its purpose one day,” she murmured. Avoiding his eye, she turned her gaze around the pools again and up to the series of waterfalls. “Maybe your own children will play here.”
Nigel snorted softly. “No.”
She frowned at the abruptness of his answer and shot him a look. “Why not?”
“Because fatherhood is not in my future, Miss Talbot. I don’t need your tea-scrying to tell me that much.”
She studied him silently, her scrutiny more intent than he liked. Keeping low in the water, Nigel sidled away from her, deeper into the lilies, and pretended to be very interested in inspecting the bright blossoms.
But Luna wasn’t so easily put off. “And why do you say so, Mr. Grimm?” she demanded after a moment.
Nigel felt his mouth twist in a bitter smile. “What kind of a father would I make?”
A sour twist of loathing constricted his heart and, with it, certainty of all the ways in which he knew he was destined to fail.
All the ways he was bound to hurt any innocent souls unlucky enough to be foisted by destiny into his care and keeping.
What right did a man like him have in even contemplating such a role?
It was a hopeless notion. His own father had taught him nothing but frustration and disappointment and disdain.
Did he really fancy himself superior to Alfred P.
Grimm? Did he really think he could do any better?
Stained by the Dire, stained by the sins of his youth as he was.
The very idea was laughable. Pathetic. Terrifying.