The laughter had faded from her face, replaced by something that made his pulse thunder in his ears.
“Now what?” she whispered.
His hand glided higher, tracing the curve of her thigh beneath the water. Her skin was impossibly soft,impossibly warm. “Tell me to stop…”
Instead, her legs wrapped around his waist, pulling herself against him with a boldness that stole his breath. Arms slid over his shoulders, her fingers finding purchase on wet skin. The press of her body against his was overwhelming—soft breasts flattening against his chest, her nipples hard points he could feeleven through the water. She had to feel the rigid evidence of his desire pressing against her thigh.
A small sound escaped her throat.
His hands found her waist, spanning it easily, then slid lower to cup the curve of her bottom. He pulled her tighter, eliminating even the whisper of space between them. Water lapped languorously at their shoulders as they floated, suspended in sunlight and shadow.
“Catherine...” Her name was gravel and need.
She gazed at him, her eyes dark and dilated, gold flecks catching the light. This close, he could see everything—the flush creeping across her cheeks, the rapid flutter of her pulse in her throat, the way her lips had parted on shallow breaths.
One hand left her hip to slide up the elegant curve of her spine. She shivered, arching back, and the movement pressed her more intimately against his manhood. His fingers traced each vertebra, mapped the delicate wings of her shoulder blades, tangled in the wet silk of her hair at her nape.
Her head tilted back, exposing the long line of her throat. An invitation.
He shouldn’t. Oh,he absolutely shouldn’t.
His mouth found the hollow beneath her ear instead, just a brush of lips against fever-hot skin. She gasped, her nails digging into his shoulders hard enough to sting. The small pain only heightened his lust.
“Aaron,” she breathed, and the name—wrong name, his brother’s name—should have stopped him cold.
It didn’t.
His lips traced down her throat, tasting lake water and orange-blossom, a fragrance uniquely hers. Her legs tightened around him, hips shifting in a way that made stars burst behind his eyes. One of her hands slid from his shoulder to his chest, fingers splaying wide, feeling the hammering of his heart.
Then lower.
Her palm flattened against his ridged stomach, and he sucked in a sharp breath. She stilled, looking at him with wonder and uncertainty and unmistakable desire. Her hand trembled against his skin.
“Touch me—” he began roughly, then caught himself.
For a long moment, she simply stared at him. Then her hand drifted lower, achingly slow, until her fingers brushed the edge of where he needed her most—
“There you are!” Jeremy’s voice shattered across the water like a gunshot.
Gideon and Catherine were bobbing in the water, looking at each other. Neither speaking. Now they whirled, searching for the sound of the voice. Gideon groaned inwardly.
“Oh my!” squeaked the woman at Jeremy’s side.
“Sorry, old chap! My mistake! We’ll catch up later!” His friend called, turning his back.
“Dash it all!” Gideon growled.
Catherine had sunk until only her head was visible. Her face was scarlet and her eyes wide. Without a word or a backward glance, she swam for the shore and her clothes.
CHAPTER 10
Catherine sat by the fire, wrapped in linen, squeezing water from her hair. Her skin still hummed from Aaron’s touch, from what he'd done to her at the lake. But the warmth in her belly had curdled into something uncomfortable the moment Jeremy and Bella appeared on that path.
God, they'd seen everything. Or near enough.
Her cheeks burned. Not from shame at what she’d done—though perhaps there should have been some—but from the timing. She had been so lost in him, so utterly consumed, that she hadn’t heard them approach until it was too late.
A knock at the door made her start. She clutched the linen tighter. “Come in.”
