outraged words, there was a spark in her eyes that told him she was enjoying the verbal sparring as much as he was. That maybe she too relished the opportunity to forget her worries, to feel alive. She was younger than he had first thought, early to mid-twenties, her creamy skin a contrast to her large dark eyes and almost-black hair. She wasn’t exactly beautiful but there was something arresting about her features, a striking dignity that made him want to look twice and then again. ‘You and I here, our clothes there. I’m really not sure what our next move should be.’
That wasn’t entirely true. He was sure what he wanted to do—but not if he should. He wanted to swim closer, next to her. He wanted to see if those eyes darkened even more with desire, wanted to taste that plump bottom lip. He wanted to forget that tomorrow he would be presented with a list of suitable wives and expected to pick one with as much thought as he gave buying a new phone. He wanted to lose himself in another human being of his own choosing while he still could. He wanted to live on his last night of freedom.
* * *
She should be outraged. Possibly scared. Definitely wary. This man had plainly been watching her—watched her dance, watched her strip, watched her wade naked—naked—into the water. He’d lounged here insolently invading her privacy. And now, instead of apologising and leaving her to her evening swim, he was looking at her as if...well, as if he wanted to eat her.
She should be outraged but the clench deep down wasn’t fear; nor was the tingling in her arms and breasts. Posy took a deep breath, her legs suddenly weak, treading water as she fought to hold onto her composure. ‘Our next move?’ she managed to say, keeping her voice level. ‘There’s no “our”. You are going to swim back to your clothes, I will swim back to mine and neither of us will turn around or acknowledge each other in any way. Understand?’
His smile didn’t waver, a confident, amused grin, which infuriated her almost as much as her body’s traitorous reaction to the play of muscles across his shoulders and to the heat in his navy-blue eyes. ‘If you insist, naiad.’
‘Don’t call me that.’
‘But what else should I call a fair maiden dancing on the shore before slipping into the waves? A mermaid? A siren—or are you a selkie? Waiting for me to leave before slipping into your seal skin?’
‘Don’t be so silly and you don’t need to call me anything...’ She paused, embarrassed that she was reacting so strongly to his teasing, her innate good manners forcing her to add, ‘But if you did need to, then my name is Posy.’
‘Nice to meet you, Posy. I’m Nico.’
‘I wish I could say the same but I didn’t actually want to meet anyone tonight.’
‘Me neither,’ he admitted and, startled, she looked directly at him, her prickles soothed by the lurking smile in his eyes. ‘This is a place one comes to for solitude, isn’t it? I didn’t think anyone would be here. If I had I would have packed some trunks.’
‘Yes.’ She wasn’t sure what she was agreeing with—the joint need for space and to be alone or that swimwear was a good idea. ‘Okay then. Now we’ve been introduced let’s call an end to this impromptu meeting. I propose that you go that way, I go this.’
‘Deal. I hope you find it, whatever you came out looking for tonight.’ He paused, his eyes intent on hers for one long moment, before turning and with a graceful dive, which gave Posy a glimpse of a tanned, lean torso and a decent pair of legs, he powered off towards the opposite side of the beach. She lingered, watching his strong body cut through the waves for one guilty second before turning and kicking off in a more sedate breaststroke back to the beach, glad of the cool water on her overheated flesh.
Posy was no stranger to gorgeous male bodies—she spent most of her time with physically perfect specimens clad in Lycra and tights, every single muscle perfectly defined. She was used to being lifted and held, spun and moved, her partner’s hands moving with sure possession over her body. That was why when she dated, she dated within the company. Men from outside could never understand that when her partner’s hand clasped her inner thigh the last thing either of them was thinking about was sex. A dancer’s body was public property; there was no room for coyness. She was used to nudity, to being nude—or as good as. To react so strongly to the knowledge of another person’s nakedness was foreign to her. She hadn’t been able to see much. They’d both been cloaked by the evening sea. But she’d known, she’d reacted—and that discombobulated her.
Also, she was a fool. She should have swum away the second she noticed him. She was lucky he wasn’t some kind of maniac who lurked in deep water waiting for unsuspecting night swimmers. Maybe he just waited for said swimmer to return to the beach lulled into a false sense of security instead...but when she checked he was clearly heading to the far side of the beach, not even looking in her direction. As they’d agreed. Which was a good thing. And she wasn’t even the teensiest bit disappointed.
It was far less pleasant pulling her dress back over her wet body than it had been to shuck it off. She’d hoped that an evening walk and swim would distract her from an ever-lengthening list of questions and worries. She stifled an unexpected giggle; to be fair her plan had worked, although in a very unexpected way. She hadn’t thought about bills or her future once in the last ten minutes.
Posy took a few steps along the beach, heading for the jetty, almost hidden on one side, which led to the private path up to the villa, via the natural thermal pool. The pool might be famous but, like much of her godmother’s legacy, she would gladly swap it for a roof that didn’t leak in places, a new boiler and some idea of how she was going to pay the bills over the next few months whether she stayed here or not. What on earth would she do if she stayed here—and where would she go if she didn’t?
Posy stopped as panic overwhelmed her, almost crushing her chest so she could barely breathe. She wrapped her arms around her torso, as if by squeezing tight she could push the terror out. Stay here or leave, she had nowhere to go, no purpose. Without dance who was she? What was she? How would she get up each day?
‘Posy? Are you okay?’
It took a while before the words penetrated through the grey mist. Posy looked up to see Nico—still on his side of the arch—looking at her, concern etched on his face. She forced a deep breath, dragging the night air into her lungs. ‘Yes. Thanks.’
He didn’t move. ‘That didn’t look okay to me.’
She forced herself upright, forced her arms to loosen in a pose of defiance and strength she didn’t come close to feeling. ‘What happened to straight home no looking?’
His mouth quirked into a half-smile. ‘I just wanted to check on you. Turns out there’s all kinds of strange people lurking in this bay nowadays.’
She should go. She meant to go. Yet once again her limbs, usually so obedient, used to being kicked up high and held in gravity-defying positions, refused to move a single step. ‘There are. Very chivalrous of you to think of me.’
‘I’m a chivalrous type.’ The sun had almost set behind him, casting a red glow over him, making him otherworldly, the cove a place of magic and mystery. He was taller than she had realised, lean to the point of slimness but with a coiled strength apparent in his stance, in the definition in his arms and legs. Casual in a grey T-shirt and khaki shorts, his dark hair, wet from the sea, falling over his eyes, he still radiated a confidence and purpose she coveted. Barely aware of what she was doing, she took a step closer and then another. He didn’t move but his eyes tracked her every movement. Posy was used to feeling graceful, assured in her every gesture, but right
