about thinking herself better than those around her, not the way her father had been, and perhaps she didn’t act entitled, but she was among her own with Ingrid and Huxley. She took it for granted she was accepted. He couldn’t help but appreciate that confidence.
“Would the guests moor here overnight?” Huxley asked.
“That’s up to Mr. Killian,” Melodie deferred, turning to him.
“Roman, please,” he said drily. She could use his first name until he made his position clear, which would be about five minutes from now. “There’s a shoal to be wary of,” he said to Huxley, stepping forward so he could point.
He was fully aware of Melodie’s proximity to his own. He had no intention of bumping her, though, and actually reached out absently to ensure he didn’t.
Melodie was the one who recoiled in surprise, taking a hasty step backward.
He caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, heard her squeak of shock and snatched again, more deliberately.
She was already tipping backward. He missed her, tried again. Their fingertips brushed, but he failed to catch her. Her face pulled into a cringe as she fell backward into the deep end of the pool. Roman stepped back from the splash and stared at her one shoe caught in the grate.
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