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“You reckon,” I say sarcastically.
“I do. One day, when we’re lying in bed having had fantastic sex, you’re going to say to me, ‘We should have done this years ago.’”
I push off the railing. “That’s not going to happen. The answer’s no, Hux, and I need you to accept that and stop badgering me.”
I turn away. Then, a few seconds later, I squeal as he picks me up and puts me over his shoulder in a firefighter’s lift.
“Huxley!” Furious, upside down, I smack his butt, but he just laughs.
“Oliver,” his mother scolds, “what do you think you’re doing? Put her down!”
The girls obviously notice then, because they all whoop and cheer, and Nymph barks.
“Put me down,” I yell, embarrassed that all those young women have seen me at the mercy of a guy.
As easily as if I was a rolled-up blanket, he tosses me up, then catches me in his arms. I kick my legs, but he holds me tightly to his chest.
“Give me one night,” he says, turning so his back is to the pool.
“No! Put me down!”
He takes a few steps back. “Give me one night, or you’re going in.”
I glare at him. His eyes are full of frustration.
Something inside me softens, and I reach up and touch his face. “I know this is difficult for you, honey. I know it’s not what you want, and you’re not used to being told no. But you can’t bully me into it. That’s not fair.”
He looks into my eyes. There’s a line between his brows, as if he’s understanding for the first time that I’m really not going to give in.
Then the line disappears. “Fair enough,” he says.
My eyes widen in alarm. “Oliver Huxley, don’t you d—”
But it’s too late—he tips backward, and we both fall into the pool.
Chapter Five
Elizabeth
I squelch back up to the deck, ignoring Huxley, who walks beside me, trying not to laugh.
“Come on,” he says, “don’t be mad.”
“I’m not talking to you.” I mount the steps, while everyone who’s sitting there stares at me as I drip all over the deck.
“Oh my God,” my mother says, “what happened?”
I glare at Huxley. “He threw me in.”
“Oliver,” his father scolds. “Seriously?”
“She asked for it,” he says, picking up a towel from the pile on the side and tossing it to me.
I take it and rub my hair, knowing I must look a sight. I’m not wearing waterproof mascara for a start. “That wasn’t very gentlemanly,Ollie.”
“Then maybe you should have said yes,Liz.”
“Yes to what?” Brandy asks.
