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Their hotel was close to the sea with a view over the ocean.
‘They’ve got single and double rooms available,’ Dante told her after a talk at the desk. ‘A double room’s cheaper.’ In reply to her raised eyebrows, he said, ‘How long can a man behave perfectly?’
‘I think I can afford a single room.’
‘You don’t give an inch, do you?’
‘You’d better believe it,’ she said, laughing.
Not for the world would she have admitted her relief that his defences were finally crumbling.
The hotel had a shop that sold beach items. She lingered over a bikini that—for a bikini—was relatively modest, and a respectable one-piece. Dante eyed her hopefully as she hovered between them.
‘Why don’t you try it?’ he suggested, indicating the one-piece.
She was slightly surprised that he urged her to try the modest garment rather than the revealing one. Afterwards, she realised that she should have been more suspicious.
In the dressing-room she donned the costume, regarded herself in the mirror and sighed. It was elegant and showed off her figure, but didn’t do her total justice. No one-piece could have done that. But, until she was sure how far along this road she was going to let Dante whirl her, she couldn’t risk being a tease. That wouldn’t be fair to him.
Nor was it fair on her, she realised, trying to calm the pleasure that fizzed through her as she thought of his eyes dwelling on her nearly naked body. It wasn’t the only pleasure she was denying herself right now, and soon she must decide why.
She dressed again and went out, handing the costume to the assistant for wrapping. ‘I’ll take this.’
‘I’ve already paid for it,’ Dante said, whisking it out of her hand and putting it into a bag he was carrying. ‘Now, let’s be off.’
‘I can’t let you pay for my clothes,’ she said as they crossed the road to the beach. ‘It wouldn’t be proper.’
‘If we’re going to have another discussion about propriety, I’d rather do it later over champagne.’
‘Oh, all right.’
The sand was glorious, soft and welcoming. He hired a hut, two loungers and a huge umbrella, then handed her the bag with her purchase and stood back to let her enter the hut first.
When she opened the bag, she was reminded that this man was a talented schemer.
‘They’ve given me the wrong costume,’ she said, going outside again. ‘Look.’ She held up the bikini. ‘But I don’t see how it happened. I saw you put the other one into the bag.’
‘I guess this one must have already been in there,’ he said, eyes wide and innocent.
‘But how…?’ Light dawned and she stared at him indignantly. ‘You didn’t?’
‘If you’ve learned anything about me, you know that I did,’ he said unanswerably. ‘I bought the bikini while you were in the changing room.’
‘But how dare you?’
‘A case of necessity. You were going to buy that middle-aged thing that doesn’t do you justice, so I paid for them both and slipped the bikini into the bag before you came out.’
‘But what about the one I chose? Where is it?’
‘No idea. It must have escaped.’
‘You—you devious—’
‘No such thing. Just a man who doesn’t like wasting time. Now, are you going to get in there and change, or are you going to stand here all day talking about it?’
‘I’m going to get in there and change,’ she said promptly. And vanished.
It might not have been modern and liberated to let a man make her decisions, but that was a small sacrifice in return for the look in his eyes. He’d behaved disgracefully, of course, but all things considered she would forgive him.
The mirror in the hut promised everything to the beauty who gazed back, wearing just enough to be decent. Restrained as the bikini was, it didn’t hide the way her tiny waist developed into curved hips, or the fact that her skin was perfect. Turning, she studied her rear view over her shoulder, noting that perhaps her behind was a fraction too generous.
Or, then again, perhaps not.
At last she was ready to make her grand entrance. Throwing open the door, she stepped out into the sunlight, only just resisting the temptation to say, ‘Ta-Da!’
He was nowhere to be seen.
Oh, great!
‘Ah, there you are,’ he said, appearing with cans of liquid. ‘I’ve been stocking up on something to drink. We can keep these in the hut until we’re ready.’
‘Do I look all right?’ she asked edgily.
‘Very nice,’ he said in a courteous voice that made her want to thump him.
But his smile as he studied her told another story, so she forgave him.
While she waited for him to emerge, she let her eyes drift over the other men on the beach. Sandor had once told her that there were few men who appeared at an advantage in bathing trunks. He’d spoken with self-conscious grandeur, from the lofty heights of physical perfection.
But when Dante appeared she forgot everything else. He didn’t show off; he didn’t need to. His tall, lean figure was muscular without being obvious, and he seemed to have the tensile strength of whipcord.
Ferne’s brief contacts with his body had hinted at power, not flaunted but always in reserve. Now she saw the reality and it pleased her, especially the long legs that moved with a masculine grace that hinted at his ability as a dancer.
For a moment she was back in his arms as they danced across the floor, feet between feet, spinning and twirling with never an inch out of place, because his control had been perfect. Watching him now, his body almost naked, she felt again the excitement of that night begin in the pit of her stomach and stream out to her fingertips.
‘Shall we go in?’ he asked, reaching out.
She took his hand and together they ran down the beach, splashing into the surf. She yelled aloud with ecstasy as the water laved her, and joined him in a race out to the horizon.
‘Careful,’ he said. ‘Don’t go too deep.’
But she was beyond caring. The feel of the water was so good that she wanted more and more.
‘Yee-haa!’ she cried up to the sky.
He laughed and plunged after her, keeping close, ready for the moment when she pulled up, treading water and puffing.
‘All right now?’ he called. ‘Got it out of your system?’
‘No way. Here goes!’
Kicking hard, she projected herself up as high as she could go, then dropped down deep into the water, down, down, until at last she kicked to start rising again.
But she was deeper than she’d guessed, and she didn’t seem to be climbing fast enough. She became alarmed as her breath began to run out.
Suddenly there was an arm around her waist and she was being yanked up to the surface fast, until mercifully her head broke free and she could breathe again.
‘All right, you’re safe,’ came Dante’s voice. ‘What were you thinking of, you crazy woman?’
‘I don’t know—I just wanted to—Oh, goodness!’
‘Steady. Relax. I’ve got you.’
He trod water while keeping her well above the surface, holding her tight against him, his hands almost meeting about her waist.
‘All right?’ he said, looking up.
‘Yes, I—I’m fine.’
It was hard to sound composed when the sensation of her bare skin against his was so disturbing. Her thighs were against his chest, his mouth was just below her breasts, and the waves were moving them about so that their contact constantly shifted; with every new touch the tremors went through her.
‘I’m going to let you down,’ he said. ‘You can’t touch the ground, but don’t worry. Just hold onto me. Down—easy.’
She knew he meant only to be gentle and reassuring by lowering her slowly, but the feeling of her flesh gliding against his was just what she didn’t need right now, she thought frantically. Control. Control.
‘Ouch!’ he said.
‘What?’
‘You’re hurting me, digging your nails into my shoulders.’
‘Sorry!’ she said wildly. ‘Sorry—sorry.’
‘OK, I believe you. Let’s get back to shore. Can you swim, or will you hold onto me?’
‘I can manage fine,’ she lied.
They made it back to the shore without incident, and she set her feet down on the sand with relief.
‘All right?’ Dante asked.
‘Yes, thank you. You can let me go now.’
‘I’ll just support you until we reach the lounger. You had quite a shock.’
Her legs felt weak, but that was natural after her alarm. It surely couldn’t have anything to do with her burning consciousness of his left hand about her waist while his right hand clasped hers?
What happened next was really annoying. By sheer ill-luck an unevenness in the sand made her stumble so that Dante had to tighten his grip to stop her falling.
‘Let’s do it the easy way,’ he said, lifting her high into his arms and carrying her the rest of the distance.
This was even worse. Now she had no choice but to put her arms about his neck, which positioned her mouth close to his and her breasts against his chest, something a sensible woman would have avoided at all costs.
At last he eased her down onto the lounger and dropped on one knee beside her.
‘You gave me a fright,’ he said. ‘Vanishing below the water for so long. I thought you’d gone for good.’
‘Nonsense,’ she said, trying to laugh it off. ‘I’d have been bound to float up eventually.’
‘Yes, but it might have been too late.’
‘Then it’s lucky for me that you were there. You do the “rescuing damsels in distress” thing really well.’
‘It’s my speciality,’ he said lightly. ‘And, just to show you how good at it I am, let me dry you off.’
He tossed the towel around her shoulders and began to dab.
‘I can manage, thank you,’ she said in a strained voice.
‘All right. Do it properly, and I’ll get you something to drink.’
He poured her some wine in a plastic container.
‘Sorry it’s a bit basic, but the wine is good,’ he said.
She drank it thankfully, wishing he’d move away and not kneel there, so kind, so sweetly concerned, so nearly naked.
‘Thanks,’ she said. ‘I feel better now. You don’t need to hover over me.’
‘Am I being too protective? I can’t help it. I keep thinking what it would have been like without you, and I don’t like that thought at all.’
‘Really?’ she asked quietly.
‘Of course. How could I manage without your brilliant pictures?’
‘My pictures?’
‘You really enhance my work in a way that nobody else has managed to do. We make a great team, don’t you think?’
‘Fantastic,’ she agreed dismally.
‘So I’ll just keep on watching out for you.’
Her head shot up. ‘What—what did you say?’
‘I said I’m watching out for you. You obviously need someone being protective. Hey, careful. You’ve spilled wine all down yourself.’
She seized the towel out of his hands and dabbed at her bare torso. Her head was in a whirl, and her senses were in an even worse whirl.
