A few moments later, she was heaved out of the water and set on the edge of the pool in one swift, powerful motion.
It was only then that she remembered she wasn’t wearing anything, and hurriedly crossed her legs and hugged her knees to hide her breasts.
Bobbing effortlessly in the pool, just below her, was the one man this swimming session was supposed to make her forget. And now he was wet and glistening, and so breathtaking in the moonlight that she really should have stayed in bed.
Hunter swam to the ledge and pulled himself out, water cascading down his muscular body like molten silver. His thigh covered what she’d felt in the dungeons, and he turned to deny her a peek as he stooped to pick up his belted plaid.
She stared in a daze at his sculpted buttocks, so firm and shapely that she had to stuff her hands into her armpits to stop herself from reaching out to touch them.
A moment later, he was covered, at least from his waist to his knees, and she could breathe again.
“Is it wise where ye come from for a lass to swim alone at night?” he asked coolly as he picked up his shirt and turned to face her.
She looked away. “Unfortunately, no.”
“Here.” He opened his shirt and lowered it over her head, giving her no choice but to stick her arms through the sleeves or be trapped in a very loose, very large straitjacket.
His scent hit her like that first plunge into the icy water, sneaking into her senses.
“I’ve got a perfectly good cloak over there,” she muttered, hating the shirt and the smell that was already unraveling the good that her swim had done. Well, everything that hadn’t already been unraveled by the sight of him naked, or the feel of him holding her in his arms.
He padded over to the recess in the wall and collected her cloak and nightdress. As he returned to her, he sat down on the ledge with her and carefully draped the cloak around her.
She held the edges closed, huddling into the warmth of the fabric, for she knew from firsthand experience that his shirts tended to be see-through.
“Nancy?” he prompted, his voice unnervingly soft.
“What?”
He tilted his head. “Why are ye avoidin’ me, lass?”
“I’m not avoiding you,” she replied crossly. “I’m doing what you asked.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m staying away from you,” she sniffed. “We both agreed that the kiss was a mistake, so why tempt fate or tempt anything by being near each other? In fact, you should shuffle off down there. You’re already too close.”
A sly smirk lifted his lips as he leaned in and whispered, “Is that so?”
She shunted him in the chest with her shoulder, the reaction instinctive. “Youwere the one who left bruises on my thigh; it took that much willpower for you to control yourself.” She pulled aside the edge of her cloak to show him the faint marks. “So, move off a safe distance. I don’t want you to bruise me again because you get carried away.”
“Iget carried away?” A dark laugh rumbled in his chest as he suddenly unbelted his plaid and dropped back into the pool.
It happened so fast that Nancy wasn’t even sure whathad happened until his hand was on her thigh and his other hand was holding onto the ledge, pulling himself up just enough to reach the light bruises he’d accidentally left on her skin.
“I didnae mean to bruise ye, lass,” he murmured. “I would never harm ye.”
She was about to argue that, whether he’d meant to do it or not, he had, when the brush of his mouth against those fading bruises stole her breath. He kissed them slowly, one by one, an apology for each spot where his fingers had gripped her too possessively.
Once again, a man of action, not words.
And Nancy realized that she wanted to find out just how sorry he was.
CHAPTER 16
Her skin wasas soft as silk, and just as cold after her ill-advised swim.
It was the honorable thing to do, in Hunter’s mind, to warm her up as well as apologizeprofuselyfor the bruises he’d caused. Although the irony wasn’t lost on him that he’d caused the bruises when he’d had to stop himself from doing this exact thing: indulging his desire for her.
