Gunnar drifts over to a large piece of driftwood. “Hold on to the log.”
What if I slip and fall back into the water? I hold on tighter to him. “Is the water very deep?”
“Not at all. I can touch the bottom with my toes.” He loops an arm over the log, bringing me much closer to it. “I’ve got you.”
His hold on my waist tightens, giving me the courage to rest my arms across the log. “Got it.”
“I’m going to let go. Ready?”
A very undignified whimper escapes me.
“Lo, I won’t let anything happen to you. I promise.” Gunnar runs his hand along my back, the gesture soothing and gentle. His silver eyes are solemn as he holds my gaze.
I told myself I’d be daft to trust a wolf shifter again, but he did save me the last time I was in the water. A part of me wants to trust him, tells me quite loudly that I can trust him more than anyone else in this world. Is it the mate bond between us, or perhaps just wishful thinking?
I exhale and say, “Ready.” I hold on tight to the log as he lets go, drifting backward. “Oi! Don’t leave me here!”
He chuckles. “I’m right behind you. Now, I want you to practice kicking. Extend your feet toward me and let yourself float toward the surface.”
I put most of my weight on my arms and raise my legs. The water makes me feel weightless, and it’s easy enough to let it lift me. “Like this?”
“Good. Now kick.”
I start kicking, grinning when Gunnar splutters behind me as I spray him with water.
“Not at me!” Gunnar snaps, but he’s laughing as he wipes water out of his eyes.
His low, rumbling laugh must be contagious because I start laughing too—and lose my grip on the log at the same time. I’ve only been under for a second before strong hands lift me back to the surface. Spitting salty water out of my mouth, I grapple for him and hold on tight. His muscular body is wet and slippery, but his arm holds me close to him.
“I’ve got you, Lo,” Gunnar says, reassuring me.
Against my ear, his heart thumps hard. Was he worried? “I knew you’d catch me,” I say.
Gunnar’s body runs warm, and although I’m nowhere near freezing thanks to the heat rune, I am starting to get a bit chilly. That must be why I hold him tighter, tucking my face into his neck. For warmth. Nothing else.
“Hands on my shoulders,” Gunnar instructs.
Carefully, I loosen my legs from his waist and slide down the length of his body until we’re level. My stomach flutters when I run my hands over his shoulders, squeezing once. They’re so broad and strong, dotted with freckles from long hours under the sun. I suddenly wish I were the water lapping at his skin, clinging to every hard line of his body.
“Cold?” Gunnar asks.
I bob my eyebrows. “The very opposite. You’re like my own personal heated blanket. Besides, I can channel the heat rune for at least fifteen minutes.” Any longer than that, and I risk getting a headache from the strain of focusing.
“You’re sure?”
“I’ll let you know if my head starts to hurt. Then we can stop.”
Gunnar nods, but there are two little lines between his eyebrows.
I reach out and smooth them away before I can stop myself. “The worst that happens is I pass out and sleep for a week. But it won’t get that far. Magic fatigue is hard to miss. Besides, I know you’ll rescue me and bring me safely to shore.” I wink at him, pleased when his cheeks redden.
“Aye, all right.” Gunnar runs his tongue along his slick bottom lip, and I’d love nothing more than to taste the salt on his mouth. “Let’s practice floating on your back now.”
Perhaps that should freak me out, but at some point my fear of the water disappeared. “Let’s do this!” I want to prove myself to him, to please him.
“Hold your breath. You’re going to submerge yourself up to your ears and lean back.”
Apprehension trickles in. “I won’t sink like a stone?”
