spluttered and went under for a moment. “They’re only interested in creeping up on the fish, not you.” Arms brown and gleaming in the sun, he stood upright in shallower end of the pool and flexed his muscles like a man in a body builder’s advert. “But remember, I’m here to protect you.” He lifted an eyebrow.
For an instant, her eyes opened wide, taking in the magnificent sight of him. Then she laughed. She couldn’t help it. Mimicking his stance she gulped when his eyes opened wide and he surged toward her. Scrambling away from him, she couldn’t move fast enough. Serves you right. She slapped water at him and squealed in mock terror when the wall of the pool slammed cool and slippery against her back. Trapped, she stood up straight, took a deep, calming breath and held one hand up in front of her face, palm out.
He stopped, and in the hot silence, water crashed against the pool walls.
“I’m hungry. Do you think it’s time for lunch?”
He groaned.
~~~
After a happy afternoon exploring the mill and its environs, Rory drove her to the nearest village for their evening meal. She chose a table on the terrace of Jour le Fête, pulled out a chair and sat down.
“The Commune runs this place.” Rory looked around.
“Communes make me think of the French Revolution.” Melissa squinted against the sun, looking over the tired lawn and the wilted flowers imprisoned in the narrow, untidy borders. “It’s still hot for eight o’ clock in the evening.” She looked down at her sunburned arms and wished she’d either brought a wrap or worn something with sleeves. Perhaps she should have worn the long sleeves this afternoon as they explored the mill. As it was, her linen sundress left far too much rosy flesh on view and already her skin burned where the sun caught it. “You’d have thought that the sun would have lost some of its heat by now.”
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Rory seemed deep in the menu. His navy polo shirt covered his upper arms and shoulders, and his dark skin took the sun easily. Melissa lifted her hair off her neck with both hands. She’d only stepped out of the air-conditioned car five minutes ago and already the back of her neck was damp. There was something terrifying about the heat.
Rory looked up. “What would you like to eat?”
Melissa shrugged. “Is there a salad? I get tired of meat sometimes.”
The waitress brought a dish of olives. Rory selected one and ate it. “Not trying to keep the bill down, are you?” He handed Melissa the menu.
She glanced down the page. “No. I’ll have the cheese tart.”
“There’s no need, you know. I can afford all this.”
Melissa shifted on her wooden chair. “You said this afternoon you’d moved into a new flat recently.” She disliked people who boasted about how much they earned or owned, and shrugged again. “Most people find that curtails their spending for a while.”
“Order what you like, Blue Eyes. Cheese might give you bad dreams.”
Melissa glared at him. “Last night wasn’t a dream, Rory. I was wide awake, and there was something there. And don’t call me Blue Eyes. It’s ridiculous.”
Rory sat back in his chair and grinned at her. “But you do have blue eyes, sweetie, and they’re gorgeous. I nearly fell into the stream last night, and collected a couple of nettle stings on the way, but—”
“I know you don’t believe me, but there was something there. It was creepy.”
“You’ll be talking about ghosts soon.”
Oh Lord, should she tell him? Worry made her link her fingers together in her lap. Was this a good moment? Did she need to tell him? After all, she wasn’t sure there were ghosts at the mill. Better to wait and see what happened.
The chance to speak vanished as a young waitress clattered across the tiles and hovered over them, pad and pencil poised. With her hair gelled
For an instant, her eyes opened wide, taking in the magnificent sight of him. Then she laughed. She couldn’t help it. Mimicking his stance she gulped when his eyes opened wide and he surged toward her. Scrambling away from him, she couldn’t move fast enough. Serves you right. She slapped water at him and squealed in mock terror when the wall of the pool slammed cool and slippery against her back. Trapped, she stood up straight, took a deep, calming breath and held one hand up in front of her face, palm out.
He stopped, and in the hot silence, water crashed against the pool walls.
“I’m hungry. Do you think it’s time for lunch?”
He groaned.
~~~
After a happy afternoon exploring the mill and its environs, Rory drove her to the nearest village for their evening meal. She chose a table on the terrace of Jour le Fête, pulled out a chair and sat down.
“The Commune runs this place.” Rory looked around.
“Communes make me think of the French Revolution.” Melissa squinted against the sun, looking over the tired lawn and the wilted flowers imprisoned in the narrow, untidy borders. “It’s still hot for eight o’ clock in the evening.” She looked down at her sunburned arms and wished she’d either brought a wrap or worn something with sleeves. Perhaps she should have worn the long sleeves this afternoon as they explored the mill. As it was, her linen sundress left far too much rosy flesh on view and already her skin burned where the sun caught it. “You’d have thought that the sun would have lost some of its heat by now.”
“It’s wonderful, isn’t it?” Rory seemed deep in the menu. His navy polo shirt covered his upper arms and shoulders, and his dark skin took the sun easily. Melissa lifted her hair off her neck with both hands. She’d only stepped out of the air-conditioned car five minutes ago and already the back of her neck was damp. There was something terrifying about the heat.
Rory looked up. “What would you like to eat?”
Melissa shrugged. “Is there a salad? I get tired of meat sometimes.”
The waitress brought a dish of olives. Rory selected one and ate it. “Not trying to keep the bill down, are you?” He handed Melissa the menu.
She glanced down the page. “No. I’ll have the cheese tart.”
“There’s no need, you know. I can afford all this.”
Melissa shifted on her wooden chair. “You said this afternoon you’d moved into a new flat recently.” She disliked people who boasted about how much they earned or owned, and shrugged again. “Most people find that curtails their spending for a while.”
“Order what you like, Blue Eyes. Cheese might give you bad dreams.”
Melissa glared at him. “Last night wasn’t a dream, Rory. I was wide awake, and there was something there. And don’t call me Blue Eyes. It’s ridiculous.”
Rory sat back in his chair and grinned at her. “But you do have blue eyes, sweetie, and they’re gorgeous. I nearly fell into the stream last night, and collected a couple of nettle stings on the way, but—”
“I know you don’t believe me, but there was something there. It was creepy.”
“You’ll be talking about ghosts soon.”
Oh Lord, should she tell him? Worry made her link her fingers together in her lap. Was this a good moment? Did she need to tell him? After all, she wasn’t sure there were ghosts at the mill. Better to wait and see what happened.
The chance to speak vanished as a young waitress clattered across the tiles and hovered over them, pad and pencil poised. With her hair gelled
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