Some faint voice in his brain suggested closing his eyes, but he could no more look away than Aladdin beholding his Cave of Wonders.
She dipped a tentative toe in the water and shuddered before shooting him an accusing look.
“You didn’t mention the water would be baltic.”
“I did. Ye simply chose not to believe me.”
She dipped a toe again and hopped backward, shaking her head.
“Ye can’t ease into the cold, lass. Ye have to jump in, all or nothing.” He pushed off the ledge, swimming across to the bank where she stood. “Once you’re in the water, it’s not half bad. As I’ve said, it’s the first minute that is the worst.”
Standing half out of the water, he extended a hand.
Isla’s eyes flew wide, her gaze instantly engrossed with cataloging every feature of his bare chest.
Gooseflesh flared across his skin.
“Isla?”
Her gaze jerked upward to meet his eyes, a rosy blush on her cheeks. She looked so young in that moment. Her hair straight and uncurled around her face, the smattering of freckles stark on her cheekbones.
A girl hovering on the edge of womanhood.
At times, Tavish swore he could hear in her words the woman she would become. She would be speaking—about the plight of women in the local poorhouse, about the flawed logic of the minister’s sermon, about her dreams for a house of her own to run and manage—and he would see an older version of her laid over top the current. As if he could envision the woman she would be five, ten, or even thirty years from now.
He longed to know every iteration of her in every period of her life.
“Come, lass.” He waved a hand. “I ken my body is bonnie enough to be a distraction, but ye must resist temptation and forge onward.”
She rolled her eyes, but her blush deepened regardless. A large breath swelled her chest. Biting her lower lip, she reached for his hand, stepping fully into the water with a gasp. The grassy bank quickly turned to moss in the water, and Tavish well knew how slippery it could be underfoot. Though he was holding her hand fast, her left foot slid out from under her.
Shrieking, she grabbed for his arm, nearly pulling him under with the sudden collapse of her weight into his. Tavish managed to steady her, but not before they both splashed into the water, buried up to their necks. Isla’s legs ended up half atop his own in the water, an arm around his neck.
She wheezed at the cold, her hand fisting into his hair. Gently, Tavish wrapped his arms around her waist, steadying her.
“I have ye, lass.”
She nodded, but he could feel the cold trembling of her body.
“Let’s get ye moving,” he said. “The more ye work your muscles, the warmer ye will feel.”
Holding her at arm’s length, he walked backward into the pool. She scrambled to hold onto him.
“What did I tell ye before? When we discussed this?”
“L-let the buoyancy of the w-water hold me aloft,” she chattered.
“Precisely.”
Slowly, Tavish showed her how she could float on her back before moving to a basic swimming motion. Before long, Isla was treading water and doing a rudimentary sort of paddling around the pond.
She insisted on exploring the small ledge at the back of the pool, sitting as she kicked her feet, water lapping against her collarbones.
Tavish sat beside her, an arm braced behind her back.
“Thank you,” she said, looking up at him. Water clung to her eyelashes. He ached to kiss them away.
“For teaching ye to swim?”
