“I can leave you alone, if you like.”
His brow furrowed. “Why would you do that?”
“So you can swim.”
“Stay.”
It emerged from his mouth with more command than was his intent.
Her misgiving transformed into a smile, and gathering clouds dissipated.
“Besides,” he began.
Her head tilted. She was listening.
A wicked smile tugged at his mouth, and he did nothing to suppress it. “Who’s stopping me from swimming with you here?”
Who’s stoppingme from swimming with you here?
Artemis swallowed.
Who, indeed.
Certainly not her.
Beneath her captivated gaze that couldn’t seem to tear itself away from him, he shrugged off his coat.
“In fact,” he continued, “you can join me if you like.”
He’d begun untucking his shirt from his trousers.
Oh, dear.
She was in trouble.
And to think how innocently this morning had begun. She’d merely intended to check on Little Lady, then go for a ride.
At dawn.
The time of day she knew Bran liked to walk and swim.
Bran’s time of day, in short.
She’d known he would be in the stables—hadabsolutelyknown it.
So, not exactly innocent.
But also not with the intention to seduce or be seduced.
Simply, she’d known swimming brought him joy, and Somerton had this lovely, spring-fed pool and he should know about it.
Innocent.
He lifted his shirt over his head, each individual muscle in his arms, chest, and stomach flexing to the movement.
Her body’s response—as if sparked into instant flame—decidedly not innocent.
His gaze upon her—challenging her … daring her—his hand lowered to the buttons of his falls.
