“This is far enough.” She crossed her arms over her chest, for her breasts puckered against her chemise. Against the thin linen, she worried that he might see too much.
You could have refused to swim, she reminded herself. This was your doing.
Callum drew her to face him, and she saw the water grazing his muscled chest. The fierce desire to touch this man, to be consumed by him, was rising within her. No longer did it seem that they were worlds apart. There was only this moment between them, and the unnamed feelings.
He reached down and picked her up, cradling her in his arms. His hands rested against the back of her knees, and a violent shiver came over her. When he laid her back in the water, she was barely aware of him straightening her limbs. His dark eyes held her captive as his hands rested beneath her spine.
She was floating on the water, not understanding how. Her chemise was soaked, and it clung to her body. No doubt he could see the darker nipples beneath the linen, and he made no effort to hide his gaze. His eyes passed over her, like a man who couldn’t stop himself. He adjusted his grip to hold her with one arm, while the other traced the curve of her cheek, moving down her throat. The contrast between the heat of his hands and the freezing water held her locked in place.
Every part of her wanted him to go further, to move his hands over her aching breasts and touch her where no man ever had.
The ripples of water held her suspended, and she fought the urge to hold on to Callum’s arms. Slowly, he moved to stand behind her, until he dropped his hands away. She was floating with nothing to hold her above the water. Panic filled her, and she tried to sit up, flailing in the water until he caught her, guiding her torso back to the surface. Once again, he straightened her body, adjusting her position until her hands were outstretched, her legs straight.
He held the back of her head, standing behind her once more. His arms rested beneath her shoulders, and she was intensely aware of his molded strength. He was an archer, a man who could command the bow and send an arrow flying with one pull on the taut string. Those same strong arms held her gently but with the quiet reassurance of a powerful stature.
Marguerite lifted her eyes to his, and from her position, he appeared upside down. His steady gaze reminded her that he wasn’t going to let anything happen to her. I’ll keep you safe, his eyes seemed to say.
She watched him, wanting more than his hands upon the back of her head.
“Kiss me,” she whispered.
Instead of bringing her back up to stand before him, Callum bent down to her lips. From the upside-down position, her mouth tantalized him, her cool lips surrendering. Whether she knew it or not, her plea fired the desires he’d tried to hold back. At the sight of her slender body, revealed to him through the thin white linen, it was a good thing he was standing in cold water. The curve and dusky tint of her breasts aroused him like hot oil upon fire.
He kissed her gently, then slid his tongue across the opening of her mouth.
Marguerite couldn’t stop her intake of breath, and when her mouth parted, he invaded her with his tongue. The sensation turned her soft in his arms, her hands reaching for him. He held her in the water, and the kiss became the prelude of every way he wanted to know her.
Her tongue slid against his in a caress, and he took her deeper, letting the kiss turn hotter. He burned for her, body and soul. The water lapped against her skin the way he wanted to touch every inch of her. She reached up to his neck, holding on for balance while her eyes closed.
I want to be on top of you, your skin beneath mine.
His hands came under her knees, catching her before she could slide under. Against her breasts, the wet fabric of her chemise clung to her nipples, making them tight and hard. He imagined moving his mouth down to taste her, swirling his tongue of her until she moaned with need.
She held on to him, turning in the water with her arms around his neck. The water was too deep for her to stand, so she moved her body against his, her cool skin pressing upon him. Instinct made him want to lift her hips, wrapping her slender legs around his waist until he could penetrate her in one stroke.
She was watching him with sudden awareness, her mouth softening as she studied him. “Callum?” she whispered. It was both a question and a plea.
He couldn’t. Not now, not when she didn’t know what she asked of him.
Instead, he strode back into shallow water, bringing her back until she stood waist-high in the depths. He broke away from the kiss, and dove away from her, his body slicing through the water in smooth strokes.
The physical exertion was what he needed right now, the driving need to punish himself. She was innocent and didn’t understand what he wanted from her.
His arms broke through the water, swimming hard as if to run away from the man he was. You’re unworthy, the voice taunted. She’s far too good for you.
He swam endless laps, the water so cold it numbed him from inside. When at last he returned to her, Marguerite stood upon the shore, shivering. On her face, he saw worry.
“Did I do something wrong?” she called out.
He strode through the water, heedless of the droplets rolling down him. No, this was his fault. His feet sank into the sand as he walked closer.
She didn’t understand the effect she had upon him, but he wanted to reassure her that he’d regained his grip on sanity. When he stood before her, he reached out to a wet lock of her hair and smoothed it over one ear. He let his eyes speak for him, while his palm rested against her cheek.
It’s not your fault. Never yours.
She watched him, her blue eyes worried, but her hand reached up to cover his. “I know it’s cold,” she murmured, “but will you take me back into the water? Just for a little while?”
Callum eyed her, and though it was freezing, he acquiesced. He strode into the loch, and led her with him. When Marguerite reached the deeper water, he moved her to her stomach. His arms balanced beneath her breasts and legs, lifting her to the top of the water.
