Chapter 13 #3
Suddenly, she sat up a little straighter, her jaw set. “It’s very hot,” she declared.
It was. The heat seemed to be seeping out from the upper regions, eating into the water-freshened atmosphere.
“But the water’s plenty cool,” Luna continued.
“Yes,” Nigel acknowledged. A little smile plucked at the corner of his mouth. “It’s nice.”
She turned and looked at him between dark strands of limp hair, her eyes very bright. “I fancy a swim.”
His heart took a swan-dive straight to his gut. “What?”
Luna nodded. “It’s a shame your father should have gone through so much trouble, and no one’s ever appreciated it! I fancy a swim.” She scrambled up, spattering water droplets on his trousers as she stood. “It’s blistering hot, after all, and there’s no one around to be bothered.”
“I’m around!” Nigel pointed out.
“Yes, well, but you’re not bothered, are you?”
He was bothered. He was very much bothered. He was so bothered, in fact, his lungs seemed to have entirely run out of air.
And when Luna began unfastening the buttons of her blouse, he was suddenly ten times more bothered than he’d ever been in his life.
“You . . . you’re not going to . . . take your clothes off, are you?”
“I can’t very well swim in a skirt and blouse, can I?” She looked sharply down at him. “Don’t worry, Mr. Grimm. I’ve got a slip on underneath, and it’s as good as a bathing costume. Better even. More covering.” Then she twirled a finger. “Give a girl a little privacy, won’t you?”
He closed his jaw with an audible clunk, spun in place, and stared so hard at the water lilies in the lower pool, they grew quite discomfited and began to hide under their pads.
His senses were all on high alert—he could hear each button slipping through each button hole, could feel the clasp of her skirt giving way.
The gentle collapse of each article of clothing to the ground was like a seismic shift, and his knuckles whitened as he sought for some sort of grip on reality.
“How deep is this particular pool, do you think?” Luna asked, standing somewhere behind him.
With an effort of supreme will, Nigel dragged his voice up from the abyss and forced it through the tightened passage of his throat. “I don’t know. It looks fairly deep to—”
A wild shriek burst through his ears. The next moment, Nigel’s staring eyes glimpsed a blur of pink, followed by a splash and a surge of white bubbles.
Water hit him in the face, and he gasped and put up both hands ineffectively to protect himself.
Then, leaning out over the dark water, he sought for some sign of a sinking body. “Miss Talbot!” he cried.
She emerged in a spatter of droplets, eyes blinking, mouth laughing, hair sticking to her face in dark coils.
“Brrrrrrh! It’s not half cold, is it?” she cried, her teeth chattering.
Her arms moved gracefully, treading water with ease, and she beckoned with one hand.
“Come on in, Mr. Grimm!” she yelled, her voice loud enough to be heard over the waterfall. “It’s just the thing to beat the heat!”
“Errrrrh.” Nigel gulped, his chest spasming for lack of air.
He couldn’t see much of her. Everything but her head, neck, shoulders, and arms was an indistinct blur, hidden by the murky waves.
But his imagination performed magnificently, filling in all the blanks where it really, truly oughtn’t.
Her pink slip certainly wasn’t helping. It was close enough to flesh color to lead the mind to believe she was, in fact, completely naked, and . . .
There was no way in any hell he was getting into that water with her. Not with these sudden, powerful urges coursing through every vein.
Luna tipped her head to one side. Then she opened her mouth and said something. Nigel frowned. He couldn’t hear her. She’d been clear enough a moment ago, but now the roar of the waterfall, combined with the throb of his own pulse, seemed to drown out her words. “What was that?” he called out.
She swam toward him, speaking again, but not loud enough.
Nigel shook his head and pointed at his ear.
Shrugging, she drew in closer to the shore, and he tried valiantly not to notice the lovely, lithe length of her legs kicking behind her.
Her hands gripped the rocky edge beside him, and she pulled herself partway out of the water, and motioned for him to bend down.
Nigel grimaced. His heart seemed to have thickened into a knot and lodged itself in his airway. But he leaned over anyway, drawing his head closer so that she could put her lips near to his ear.
“It’s not deep,” she said. “You can stand on the bottom here.”
“Oh, Miss Talbot.” He shook his head, beginning to draw away again. “I really don’t think I should—”
Her hand darted out, arm extending from the water. She latched hold of his suspender strap and, before he could quite register her intentions, pushed with her legs away from the shore, surging out into the pool. Nigel had just enough time to utter a yelp of surprise.
Then icy cold waves closed over his head.