“Cramp!” she bit out through clenched teeth, floundering into deeper water.
“Hold on—let me help. Don’t struggle.” His joke had really blown up in his face. He quickly reached her side.
“Okay, I won’t!” She surged out of the water and pushed his head under with both hands.
It was his turn to come up sputtering.
Her lilting laughter echoed across the water. “I can’t believe you fell for the old ‘I’ve got a cramp’ trick.”
“You little she-devil. You’re going to pay for that.” He squinted at her as he wiped his face.
“Have to catch me first,” she taunted, then dived in and stroked for the far bank.
He couldn’t catch her even when his ribs didn’t hurt. She’d always been the better swimmer. He was only halfway across when she pulled herself out of the water on the far bank. When his hand touched the edge, she dived over his head and surfaced in the middle of the pool.
“I’m still faster than you,” she shouted.
He swam to her side with leisurely strokes. “That may be, but I bet I can still hold my breath longer.”
“Ha! Just try.”
They moved to the shallow end for their age-old contest.
“We’ll go on the count of three. Agreed?” she asked.
“Agreed.” He bobbed beside her as she began to count.
“One, two, three!” She held her nose and dived under the water. A second later, her legs shot up into the air.
He stood beside her and admired the view of her shapely legs as she struggled to stay upside down. He’d always loved her legs. Come to think of it, there wasn’t much about her body that he didn’t like. A minute passed before her feet came down. He sank under the water and came up gasping for air a few seconds after her.
She frowned at him. “Okay, you still do that one better, but not by much.”
He grinned as he slicked back his hair. “No, not by much.”
A quick arch of her hand sent a spray of water over him. When he opened his eye, she was paddling away. He followed her slowly. Together they swam, splashed and floated in the pool for the next half hour.
Finally, Robyn called a halt. He followed as she pulled herself out of the water. She turned away quickly when he began to climb out. After sluicing off as much water as he could, he pulled his jeans on over his wet legs. The air was hot even in the shade of the trees. He knew it wouldn’t take long to dry off.
He lay down, stretched out in the soft grass and raised himself up on one elbow to watch her. She twisted the water from the front of her T-shirt as she frowned at the baggy material. God, he wanted to make love to her right that second.
“Oh, well, I guess I’ll drip-dry,” she muttered.
“Why don’t you put on my shirt and hang yours up? I won’t peek,” he added.
“I’ll bet you won’t,” she replied drily, but she grabbed his shirt from the limb. He craned his neck to watch her, but she stepped behind a willow clump and foiled his view.
When she came back into sight, his chambray shirt came to the middle of her thighs, but it rode higher as she stretched to hang her wet clothes on a limb.
Sitting up, he shifted his position. If this kept up, he was going to need another dip in the cold water. Did she have any idea how sexy she looked?
She glanced his way. “Is something wrong?”
He scratched his side. “Too bad we don’t have a blanket. The grass is making me itch.”
“Ask and you shall receive,” she quipped. She crossed to the saddlebags and bent to rummage in one. She held up a folded pad of material. After shaking it open, she spread a white sheet on the grass.
“A sheet? Why would you bring a sheet?”
“In case I needed to cover your dead body.”
He arched one eyebrow. “There’s a fun thought.”
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