Plain Jane and the Playboy by Cynthia St. Aubin

Author:Cynthia St. Aubin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harlequin
Published: 2022-06-10T13:29:58+00:00

Nine

Charlotte shrieked and nearly took in a lungful of water, coughing and sputtering, wiping her eyes as Mason’s apologies rained down on her.

He began taking shape in her blurred, blinking vision, his chest bare and water-speckled, hands on her upper arms steadying her.

“Shit, are you okay?”

Dragging in a labored breath, she brought her hands to her thundering heart. “What the hell? Why would you do that?”

“I’m—I’m sorry, I just, saw you swimming and thought I would join you and—”

“So sit in the shallow end and wait.” Pulling away from him, she swam to the side of the pool, anchoring her forearms over the edge while her breath slowed.

He swam up beside her and lifted the wet braid off her neck, his hand warm between her shoulder blades. From this vantage, she saw that Mason had laid a towel on the lounger next to hers. An icy bucket of champagne, a carafe of orange juice and a basket of croissants sat on the table between them.

“I brought us refreshments,” he said, apparently catching the direction of her gaze. “Does that count as an apology?”

Charlotte bobbed next to him, turning to look him in the eye. The water darkened his tawny hair, his long lashes in wet clumps around sparkling eyes made aqua by the reflection of the cobalt-blue tiles. Beads of moisture gathered on his lips and cheeks, in the corners of his uneven grin. She saw in a flash what he must have looked like as a boy and felt suddenly, irrationally protective of someone who most certainly didn’t need it.

“What are you doing down here, anyway?” she asked. “I thought you had a couple hours’ worth of work to do.”

“I do,” he said. “But how the hell am I supposed to concentrate when you’re down here looking like this?” Below the water’s surface, he traced the small of her back just below the waistband of her bikini bottoms, and Charlotte felt her already hardened nipples tighten against her top.

She kicked her legs lazily, her toes barely scraping the bottom of the pool.

“I’m sure mine is hardly the most scandalous attire this water has seen.” She slid him a sideways glance.

Then she felt herself pulled backward. Her slippery fingers failed to find purchase on the edge of the pool as Mason dragged her into water too deep for her feet to find the bottom, and she had no choice but to cling to his smooth, warm neck as he walked her backward.

Catching her behind the knees, he wrapped her legs around his waist, his lean hipbones pressing into her inner thighs.

Hands supporting her, he pulled her against him, already hard through the thin fabric of his swim trunks.

“Why is it so difficult for you to believe it’s just you I’m thinking about?” he asked.

Experience.

The word was wet ash clinging to her tongue. Coward that she was, she couldn’t make herself say it. Any more than she could admit she’d spied on him after he’d left her room.

“I don’t know,” she said, aware it was another lame cop-out.

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