Rebel by Heather Graham

sun. That was his world. Unique from the North; unique, even, from most of the South. Much of his world still remained a wilderness, civilization bordered by primitive blues and greens. His crystal pools were like no others; the sunshine here was brilliant, the sunsets radiant with vibrant colors. His land was like an Eden.
    Mmm… Eden.
    Private, secluded. Seductive. He was going to be veryglad for a few minutes’ respite with Lavinia in his own private Eden.
    Before his whole damned world careened straight to hell.
    Alaina hurried along the path, her footsteps light and quick upon the pine-carpeted forest floor. She hesitated just briefly, looking back. The trail from Cimarron was empty. Peter O’Neill was not following her, ready to insist anew that there could be something between them in private, even if…
    Her cheeks burned.
    But she wasn’t being followed. She had left Peter doubled over, and no one had seen her; no one had followed her. She could escape. And after the events of the afternoon, she was desperate for some time alone.
    To cool down.
    She knew where to go. To the soothing refuge where she’d been headed when Peter had so rudely stopped her.
    There was a beautiful freshwater pool just ahead, or so she had been promised. A pool as private as Adam’s and Eve’s own Eden, locked away in the depths of the forest that began just where the Cimarron lawn ended. Ian McKenzie’s cousin, Sydney, had assured her she would find the pool easily enough, and that it was magnificent—gloriously clean and crystal clear, fed by underground springs. Sydney knew, of course, because she was a McKenzie herself, though not one of the McKenzies of Cimarron. Sydney had grown up in the far south of the state, as had Alaina, a part of the state still referred to as savage by those who felt they had completely civilized central Florida.
    Such sentiments usually amused Alaina, and also gave her a certain sense of pride—which allowed her to feel at least a little contempt for the numerous young ladies at the Cimarron party this afternoon who were whispering about her—and her father—as they supposedly lay down to nap. She hadn’t needed Peter to tell her that she and her father were, in a strange way, not exactly preferred society to a number of the very rich mothers and fathers in the state. From her experience, young ladies never did nap when they supposedly did so atsocial events—they gossiped. But it didn’t matter to Alaina; she just didn’t give a damn. Young ladies didn’t swear, either, of course, but since her father was far more intrigued with plant life than human, he’d never realized in the least that he might have neglected her “proper” upbringing.
    And thank God he didn’t have the least idea that she was uninterested in either resting or hearing what might be said.
    Or that because of his eccentricities, she might not be considered decent marriage material. God! That Peter would dare say such a thing to her. And to imagine that she had thought herself in love with such a crude, detestable man, that she had considered marrying him! After all that he had suggested to her… Oh, God. She was mortified.
    She stopped short. There it was. The pool. Large, with small bubbles appearing here and there from the deep springs beneath. Great oaks dipped their branches down upon the water. The water was so clear, she could see all the way to the depths.
    She was dying to swim. She had started off for the pool, intending to plunge in, and she hadn’t been worried in the least before what people might think.
    But now she felt that she had to remind herself that no decent woman would run out into the wilds of Cimarron and go swimming.
    Well, she had just been informed that she wasn’t exactly decent material to begin with!
    She spun around, inspecting the clearing. Insects chirped softly. A blazing sun burned down. Her temper burned as well, and the water was so inviting. She wanted so desperately to feel it,