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She stared at him, not sure what to say to that. She was tempted to point out that the photographers had only guessed that Cressida had been naked—she hadn’t been. Or to query his knowledge of gossip pieces. But that story hadn’t been restricted just to the scandal rags. It had gone into the mainstream news. Even the broadsheet papers had covered it because of the timing—Art Wyndham had been meeting the President of the United States of America that same day.
‘There are no photographers here. Just you and me. And I promise we will keep some clothes on.’
She sent him a withering look, but her pulse was racing. Slowly she reached up, her fingers unsteady as she hooked them into the straps of her dress and slid them down her arms. He followed their progress with his eyes and she could have sworn he was holding his breath.
The bikini she’d chosen was no less and no more revealing than her others, but when she stood before him wearing only the flimsy scraps of white fabric she desperately wished she’d put up with the heat and stayed clothed.
‘Wow...’ he muttered, his eyes taking their time as they trailed over her body.
‘Is something the matter?’ she snapped, resisting the impulse to cross her arms over her chest.
‘No.’ He grinned, flashed his eyes to her and then returned to his inspection of her body. ‘I am just...overwhelmed.’
She opened her mouth to say something, but when he made a copycat sniffling sound she laughed and ran towards him, pushing at his chest. ‘I’ll make you pay for that.’
‘Yes?’ He grabbed her wrists and held them by her sides, so that only her harsh breath sounds punctuated the stillness. ‘How do you suggest you’ll do that?’
She bit down on her lip, her mind completely bereft of responses.
When he reached down and lifted her up, cradling her against his chest, she made a small sound low in her throat.
It all happened so fast.
One minute she was processing just how good it felt to be close to him, and the next he’d leaped off the edge of the white cliff. They were flying through the air.
His laugh was the last thing she heard before they hit the water.
Splash!
There was noise, then complete immersion in the water, and finally his letting her go, so that she could splutter her way to the surface.
Her red hair was straggling over her face, and she spun around, trying to pinpoint him.
‘You...you...’ she spluttered when he lifted out of the water, a grin crossing from ear to ear over his handsome face. ‘How dare you?’
He tilted his head to one side, his eyes darkened by an emotion she couldn’t comprehend. ‘We have a problem, cara.’
‘Yeah?’ She could think of about a hundred! ‘What’s that?’
His smile lifted as he pulled one hand out of the water, something white clutched in his fingers. It took several seconds before she realised it was her bikini top.
With a squawk, she lowered herself in the water, treading water as he made his way to her.
‘Give that to me,’ she demanded indignantly.
‘I intend to.’
He was right in front of her and she turned her back on him, embarrassment and coyness making her want to shield herself from him.
‘Here.’ It was a gravelled husk. A word that invited her to turn around and stare at him.
She fumbled with the bikini in the water—no easy task when she had to simultaneously kick her legs to stay afloat.
‘Would you like help?’
If she’d been in a generous mood, she might have appreciated that without help she was unlikely to succeed. But Tilly’s mood was all over the place.
‘No. I’m fine.’
