Why would she? We’re not friends. She’s made it clear she can’t stand me, even though her eyes are once again roving over my ripped torso.
I place the flat of my hands on the white edge of the pool and stare up at her. Half-naked, with the sun slanting through the Velux windows illuminating her caramel-coloured hair, she looks like a goddess.
A lost one.
The urge to comfort her surges in my chest.
‘I won’t let anything happen to you, Savannah. I promise.’My voice is low and sincere. ‘Whatever you think of me, or whatever differences we’ve had in the past, I need you to trust me, or this isn’t going to work.’
I pat the side of the pool and motion for her to sit.
Her head bobs in a reluctant nod and she closes the distance between us, dropping to a crouching position.
When I thought I couldn’t be any more obsessed, her vulnerability proves how very wrong I was. The urge to comfort and protect her roars like a caveman in my chest. ‘Don’t worry. By the time I’ve finished with you, you’ll be a pro, I promise.’
‘Who are you and what did you do with the arrogant alphahole?’ She attempts a shaky smile as she perches on the edge of the pool and drops her toes into the water.
It takes everything I have not to stare at the shapely curve of her calf, the way her toned thighs seem to go on forever. ‘I know you have a somewhat low opinion of me, but I’m not all bad.’
‘I don’t have a low opinion of you. I just think you have a high one of yourself.’
‘Fake it til you make it, right?’ She has no idea that I bury my biggest insecurities behind that outward confidence.
That I worry I’m a has-been.
That my best days are behind me.
That I have no idea how to fill the Olympic-sized void in my life, bar drinking whiskey and sleeping around.
She shoots me a quizzical look before returning her attention to the water.
‘Are you ready?’ I take a step back and motion to the clear, inviting water around me.
She swallows hard again and squeezes her eyes shut for a long beat before nodding. ‘As I’ll ever be.’
‘It’s not deep.’ I stand tall, the water lapping at my waist. Thankfully, the full mast has subsided to half-mast now.
‘Can we take this really slowly?’ She grips the side of the pool so tightly her knuckles are white.
‘Yes.’ Instinctively, I reach out to touch her hand and a million volts of electricity surge across my skin. Ignoring the fire sparking in my fingers, I peel her trembling hands from the mosaic tiles and place them in mine. ‘I’ve got you.’
I pull her forwards until her ass is right on the edge of the ledge.
She peeps out from under thick lash-framed eyelids, a look of sheer terror pinching her features.
‘Savannah, you’re getting into the shallow end of a swimming pool with an Olympic swimmer. You’re safe. You can touch the floor. And I’m holding your hands.’
‘There’s that ego again, Mr I’m-An-Olympic-Swimmer,’ she mutters, eyeing the water like it might magically swirl into a tsunami and swallow her whole.
‘Stating facts is not egotistical. But glad to see the man-hater is still in there somewhere.’ My lips roll into a smile.
She clings onto my hands tightly enough to turn them white. I should be in agony, but I’m in ecstasy because every nerve in my body is on high alert from her sheer proximity.
‘Excuse me if my fear of drowning warps my personality,’ she says, inching herself into the water.
It’s not Savannah who’s in danger of drowning… it’s me.
Drowning in those beautiful blue eyes.
