“I’m not,” Darcy said in his best manager voice. It was the same one he’d used when I’d worked as a bodyguard, the kind that demanded people listen to him, and it was one of the reasons he got the nickname of the Ice Prince. The sound of his tone wasn’t cold to me, though, it was authoritative, and my cock perked up. While I preferred control over him and having him beneath me, I’d always enjoyed seeing the way he ordered his staff around. “I don’t want you hurt.”
“I have you here,” I murmured, kissing the side of his face. “You’ll keep me safe.”
He smacked my hand, surprising me. “And if you have a seizure while you’re swimming, I won’t be able to drag you back to shore. I won’t allow you to drown because of pure stubbornness.”
He had a point. I’d always swum before, taken the risk because I had nobody to care. My parents were living their own lives now. They’d completed their role in raising me to adulthood, and even though they loved me, it wasn’t their job to actively keep an eye on me.
“How about we compromise? I’ll go waist deep, that’s it.”
He sighed deeply. “Fine, but if I have to save your ass, I’m leaving you there.”
I didn’t believe him, not with how gently he’d spoken. “Okay, sweet prince. Here, lead me to the shore. We’ll walk in.”
Darcy huffed indignantly, and I laughed when I felt him stand beside me. He grabbed my elbow to help me to my feet, and I gripped my cane tightly as he led me off the wooden jetty and to the shore.
“Can I put my cane here?” I asked when he stopped, signaling we were close to the water. “I don’t want the waves to wash it away.”
“Here, I’ll take it.” He lifted the cane out of my hand, and I waited until he returned to my side, the brush of his shoulder comforting against mine before he hooked his arm in my elbow and led me forward. We didn’t speak, even as the cool water lapped at our toes. I stretched my feet and sighed. It’d been too long since I’d been swimming like this, even if we’d made the agreement that I could only go in waist deep.
The water sloshed around me in soothing waves as we took one step after another into the lake, Darcy holding on to my arm for dear life, like he expected me to slip and drown. It was cute, and if it’d been anyone else, I might have been frustrated by the way they treated me like a child. But I enjoyed that he was doing it because it meant hecared, and that was something everyone at the Courtesan said he couldn’t do—care. I nearly slipped on something, wobbling.
“Careful,” he said, grasping my arm tighter.
I chuckled. I didn’t have to see to know he was glaring. “I’m fine.”
“Don’t laugh. This is serious, Brooks.” The sharpness in his tone made me snicker harder, and he slapped me on the chest. “You’re an asshole.”
“Yep.” I tugged him closer and laid a kiss on his jaw, enjoying the sound of him huffing. He touched my chest, fingers splayed across my skin in a way that had goose bumps rising.
“I’m serious,” he whispered against my ear, breath tickling it. “Be careful.”
“I have you here. I’m safe.” I kissed him again, because it was hard not to with him so close, before I tugged on his arm.
We walked in farther until the water splashed at my waist and he pulled me to a stop, determination clear in the way he held on to me. He didn’t want me going in any deeper. I closed my eyes behind my glasses and breathed in the scents around me, a combination of flowers on the bank and the crisp mountain air—pure perfection.
Darcy leaned in closer to me, and his fingers on my arm were so firm I felt the individual imprints. It was as though he was scared that if he let go, I’d drift away forever.
“Tell me about your childhood,” I whispered, grabbing his wrist to make him release me. I slid my fingers into his and clasped our hands together instead.
“Why?” He sucked in a breath.
“Because I want to know everything about you. Is that terrible?”
He sighed, fingers clutching even harder at mine. “What do you want to know?”
“Everything.” I reached out with my spare hand, dragging my fingers through the cool water of the lake. “Where did you grow up? When did the madam take over the Courtesan?”
Silence filled the air, birds chirping in the distance, and I waited, half expecting him not to answer, until finally he did. “I’m the son of a john. I don’t know who my father is.” He’d spoken so bitterly, his hackles were clearly raised, and the Courtesan Darcy I was used to hearing had returned.
I frowned in his direction. “Why does that matter? I don’t care about that.”
“Isn’t that what you wanted to know? Everyone at the Courtesan suspects the truth, but they’re too afraid to ask.” The resentment in his tone had me stiffening, and I turned toward him, grasping both his hands in mine.
“I don’t care who your father is. I want to knowyourchildhood. I want to know about who you are. Not what dick gave you life.”
He snorted in laughter. “Yes, well, I wouldn’t be able to tell you anything about that dick because not even Mother knows who it happened to be. It could have been any of her clients.”
I smiled and tugged him closer until his chest was pressed against mine, then wrapped my arms around his waist. “So tell me about Darcy Winters.”
