Lord Greystone.
She didn’t need to see his face or even hear his breath. She just knew it was him.
* * *
Greys’body sliced through the water a fraction of a second after her pretty little head disappeared beneath the surface.
Little fool. His heart raced as he pulled his arms through the water and kicked out behind him. She was too reckless for her own good—ignorant of her mortality and unconcerned for her own safety.
It was possible, Greys knew, that one of the ladies could assist her from the other side, but he wasn’t going to count on that.
Having barely allowed himself a full breath before diving in, he shot through the water, intent only on getting to where he could make out her chestnut strands of hair and the blue of her swimming garments. And after what felt like a lifetime, he reached out, wound his hands around her waist, and compelled them both above the surface—her coughing and sputtering and him cursing himself for not warning her not to venture too far. He ought to have known she’d do something like this—it was part of her nature; pushing limits, acting on impulse.
Greys winced as she struggled to expel the water, and an unexpected tenderness welled up when he noticed tears streaming down her face. His heart rate returning to normal, Greys edged his feet along the bottom to move her into the shallower water.
“Are you all right, Diana?” Her sister called out, eyes wide with fear, but when she moved to venture toward them, Greys held up a hand.
“She’ll be all right,” he answered. “She just needs a moment.”
Diana was beginning to breathe normally again, but Greys could tell that she wasn’t yet completely recovered. Chaswick and Spencer hadn’t been far behind him, and he was grateful that they were approaching the shallow end where the ladies hovered, preventing them from suffering a similar mishap.
“It seems my intrepid sister has discovered where the bottom drops off,” Chaswick explained, also extending a staying hand. “Best to keep back. It gets considerably deeper out here.”
With Spencer and Chaswick’s encouragement, the ladies resumed their normal chatter, but Greys kept all his attention on Diana. She was blinking rapidly and wiping her eyes. With a few dramatic sniffs, she pushed her dripping hair away from her face, tucking it behind her ears.
Greys smoothed back a few strands that she missed, noticing that they were more of a burnished auburn now.
“You should be able to reach the bottom here. Do you need to sit out for a moment?” Greys frowned. She might wish to forgo the swimming lessons all together.
But she was shaking her head.
“No. I’m fine.” She managed, forcing a smile, her voice hoarse from the strain of coughing. “That last step certainly came as a surprise.” When her reddened eyes met his gaze, however, he wasn’t fooled by her bravado. Silent tremors flowed through her frame at the same time her fingers dug into his biceps.
Even though she was more than capable of standing alone at this depth, Greys kept his hands at her waist. Her teeth chattered intermittently, and he gave her a reassuring squeeze.
“Is it wise for her to remain in the water?” Lady Chaswick called out. “Diana, would you like some tea?”
“She’ll be fine, Bethany,” Chaswick answered and then turned to Diana. “Right, Di?”
Diana shifted her gaze away from Greys long enough to nod in her brother’s direction. “I’m fine. Swallowed a little water, that’s all. Awful stuff. It tastes like laundry soap.”
“Keeps away the fishes,” Spencer joked, inserting some much-needed levity into the moment.
“There aren’t any fishes.” Lady Tabetha pouted in her husband’s direction. “You’re not serious, are you Stone?”
“No fishes, love.” Recently married, the couple was at that point where they spoke to one another in annoyingly cooing tones. Greys ignored them, along with the twinge of something–not jealousy—but regret, perhaps as he kept a tight hold on Diana.
“Deep breath,” he advised, moving one of his hands from her side to her abdomen. She was still shaking, but not as much as she had been even a minute before. “Good girl.”
“I forgot,” she explained unnecessarily. “About the drop.”
What was it about this sweet girl? No, it wasn’t fair of him to call her a girl—not when her curves, revealed by her clinging apparel and pressed against him with every sway of the water--so easily tantalized him.
And most definitely not when she seemed to have the ability to read his thoughts.
Greys rubbed a hand through his own hair. What was he going to do with her?
“I should have made myself more clear regarding the drop.” He clenched his jaw. For some reason, he’d imagined the ladies huddling together in the shallow end. But the water was calm and welcoming. So why wouldn’t the more adventurous of them drift beyond the shallows?
