clothing lay by the log, right before him.
He spun around. What he saw sent a flash of heat ripping through his torso and limbs—and straight to his sex.
The minx. She was here.
He’d found her. She hadn’t left him after all. Through the clear water, he could see her swimming. She was full of surprises. He’d always imagined she hated the water, and that she would never dampen her perfectly groomed hair.
But there she was. Moving about in the water with the grace and speed of a dolphin and the lithe, almost magical beauty of a mythical mermaid.
He smiled, instantly forgetting the state of the world.
He began to strip.
Her pile of feminine clothing was neatly folded.
His fell upon it with reckless speed.
Alaina was blithely unaware that she had been joined in the crystal spring.
Today reminded her of swimming at the reefs off the Keys. Of the wonderful occasions when she accompanied her father out, and while he fished, she swam. The reefs were different, of course. The reefs offered a magical array of color, with fish in dozens of different shades, pale and bright, darting through the water. There, she swam with the current, and the salt stung her eyes. The water, except in winter, was balmy warm.
Here, the water was crisply cool. And clear, unbelievably clear. She could see the clusters of rock, the plant life, the pattern of the sun. There was no force like the current in the ocean, it was really completely different, and yet…
The feeling of being beneath the water’s surface was every bit as magical. It was like entering a different world, a world where silence prevailed. She felt at peace, buffered from pain, embraced by a place eloquent in its very quiet.
She luxuriated in the clean feel of the water against her body in the clear view it afforded her, diving deep, surfacing for a swift breath of air, seeking the depths once again. She was indeed most accustomed to swimming in the salt of Biscayne Bay right off her home islet, and though she had been in the fresh and brackish waters of the nearby rivers often enough, she had never experienced anything so delightfully clean and cool on her eyes as this.
It was wonderful. It was enough to take away the hurt, anger, and humiliation that had seemed so monstrous before. It was a world where she could just feel. Far beneath the water’s surface, she couldn’t hear a thing except for a slight rush of the water as she moved within it. High overhead, the sun burned, casting its rays down like crystal beacons to guide her on her journey throughout her watery Eden.
Oh, God, she loved it! Loved the tranquillity and beauty of the water.
Then she felt…
Hands!
Large, powerful hands. On her, gripping her, touching her. They encompassed her waist, slid like mercury to her breasts, cupped them, palms over her nipples, fingers then stroking downward over her abdomen, then lower still into the triangle of hair between her legs.
Oh, God, that wretched bastard Peter had followed her, determined on making her see that she wasn’t a decent young lady at all, and that she must see things his way.
But he didn’t seem angry.
And he was too strong to be Peter….
She was so stunned and frightened that she twisted wildly to fight the intruder, but the more she writhed, the more she felt those hands on her naked flesh.
Touching. Intimately touching.
And she couldn’t free herself from the power of them.
Dear Lord…
It couldn’t be happening.
But it was.
Oh, God! It must be Peter! It had to be. Who else might have come after her, who else would come to the spring pool? What an idiot she had been; he must have thought that she had come here just waiting for him, wanting him to persist no matter what she had said….
No!
She couldn’t bear that he could hurt and humiliate her so, and then dare to come after her, make indecent assumptions.
Water filled her mouth, her lungs. Idiot! She had breathed it, trying to scream, trying to fight. She was choking,
He spun around. What he saw sent a flash of heat ripping through his torso and limbs—and straight to his sex.
The minx. She was here.
He’d found her. She hadn’t left him after all. Through the clear water, he could see her swimming. She was full of surprises. He’d always imagined she hated the water, and that she would never dampen her perfectly groomed hair.
But there she was. Moving about in the water with the grace and speed of a dolphin and the lithe, almost magical beauty of a mythical mermaid.
He smiled, instantly forgetting the state of the world.
He began to strip.
Her pile of feminine clothing was neatly folded.
His fell upon it with reckless speed.
Alaina was blithely unaware that she had been joined in the crystal spring.
Today reminded her of swimming at the reefs off the Keys. Of the wonderful occasions when she accompanied her father out, and while he fished, she swam. The reefs were different, of course. The reefs offered a magical array of color, with fish in dozens of different shades, pale and bright, darting through the water. There, she swam with the current, and the salt stung her eyes. The water, except in winter, was balmy warm.
Here, the water was crisply cool. And clear, unbelievably clear. She could see the clusters of rock, the plant life, the pattern of the sun. There was no force like the current in the ocean, it was really completely different, and yet…
The feeling of being beneath the water’s surface was every bit as magical. It was like entering a different world, a world where silence prevailed. She felt at peace, buffered from pain, embraced by a place eloquent in its very quiet.
She luxuriated in the clean feel of the water against her body in the clear view it afforded her, diving deep, surfacing for a swift breath of air, seeking the depths once again. She was indeed most accustomed to swimming in the salt of Biscayne Bay right off her home islet, and though she had been in the fresh and brackish waters of the nearby rivers often enough, she had never experienced anything so delightfully clean and cool on her eyes as this.
It was wonderful. It was enough to take away the hurt, anger, and humiliation that had seemed so monstrous before. It was a world where she could just feel. Far beneath the water’s surface, she couldn’t hear a thing except for a slight rush of the water as she moved within it. High overhead, the sun burned, casting its rays down like crystal beacons to guide her on her journey throughout her watery Eden.
Oh, God, she loved it! Loved the tranquillity and beauty of the water.
Then she felt…
Hands!
Large, powerful hands. On her, gripping her, touching her. They encompassed her waist, slid like mercury to her breasts, cupped them, palms over her nipples, fingers then stroking downward over her abdomen, then lower still into the triangle of hair between her legs.
Oh, God, that wretched bastard Peter had followed her, determined on making her see that she wasn’t a decent young lady at all, and that she must see things his way.
But he didn’t seem angry.
And he was too strong to be Peter….
She was so stunned and frightened that she twisted wildly to fight the intruder, but the more she writhed, the more she felt those hands on her naked flesh.
Touching. Intimately touching.
And she couldn’t free herself from the power of them.
Dear Lord…
It couldn’t be happening.
But it was.
Oh, God! It must be Peter! It had to be. Who else might have come after her, who else would come to the spring pool? What an idiot she had been; he must have thought that she had come here just waiting for him, wanting him to persist no matter what she had said….
No!
She couldn’t bear that he could hurt and humiliate her so, and then dare to come after her, make indecent assumptions.
Water filled her mouth, her lungs. Idiot! She had breathed it, trying to scream, trying to fight. She was choking,
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