we swim?’ she breathed.
‘It’s icy.’
‘But there aren’t any...I don’t know...crocodiles?’
He grinned. ‘No crocodiles.’
‘Then I’m in.’
‘Did you bring your swimmers?’
‘No,’ she said and suddenly she was glaring. ‘I did not because no one told me that swimming was an option.’ She looked again at the waterhole and he saw the moment she made a decision. ‘Well,’ she said, ‘you didn’t tell me so you need to face the consequences. My knickers and bra are respectable. You’re sure there isn’t a posse of photographers behind these trees?’
What sort of world did she live in? ‘I’m sure.’
‘Don’t sound so cocky. They’d be onto you if you didn’t have such an ordinary name. You must have kept deliberately under the radar. Matt Fraser? No headlines and I bet you’ve fought hard to keep it that way. As squillionaire owner of Harriday Holdings, you’d be every women’s magazine’s Bachelor of the Year, no sweat.’
‘So you didn’t fight?’ he said curiously. ‘To keep under the radar?’
‘With my father? I was in front of a camera practically before they cut the cord. And with a name like Hindmarsh-Firth it’s impossible to duck.’
‘So change it.’
‘Right,’ she said grimly. ‘By deed poll? I don’t think so. I’d be splashed all over the dailies with Family Feud as the headline.’ She shrugged. ‘No matter. It’s all a long way from here and this place is magic. Can I swim?’
‘The water’s coming straight up from underground. Cold doesn’t begin to describe it.’
‘You swim here?’
‘Yes.’
‘But you never bother to pack your bathers when you come here?’ Her smile returned. ‘I get it. Every respectable squillionaire has his own private swimming pool and this is yours. Can I share?’
‘If you dare.’
And she chuckled and tugged her T-shirt off, revealing a sliver of a pink lace bra. ‘Of course I dare,’ she told him. ‘But I’m not doing your naked thing. I happen to be wearing matching knickers and panties—isn’t that lucky? Will you join me?’
‘I...yes.’
‘Then are your boxers respectable, because we Hindmarsh-Firths have our standards?’
He grinned. ‘I believe they are—although they’re not pink and they’re not lace.’
‘I don’t know what squillionaires are coming to,’ she said, mock serious. ‘But I can slum it. Swimming with a guy in cotton boxers? If I must.’
And she turned her back on him, kicked off her shoes, tugged off her jeans—to reveal a pair of knickers that were just as scanty as her bra—and dived straight in.
* * *
He’d said it was cold, but this wasn’t just cold. This was half a degree above ice. She reached for the rock ledge and gasped and gasped.
And Matt was beside her.
He must have dived in almost as soon as she had. She hadn’t noticed him shedding his clothes. She’d been more than a bit embarrassed about the panty-bra thing and had turned her back but now he was beside her.
His arm came out to support her. Maybe he thought her heart might stop.
It felt as if it might stop.
‘I told you it was cold,’ he said, a trifle smugly, and the iciness of the water and the sudden sensation of his arm around the bare skin of her waist and the smugness in his tone made her want to retort—but how could a girl retort when she was gasping like a fish out of water?
‘Oh... Oh...’
‘You get used to it if you swim,’ he told her. Dammit, his voice wasn’t even quavering. Was the man immune?
‘This is like those winter plunge ceremonies in the Antarctic,’ she stammered and tried to tug herself up to the ledge.
‘Penny?’
‘Mmm?’ She couldn’t get a handhold.
‘There’s a ledge over there that makes it easy to get out, but if you can bear it then try swimming. The cold eases and there’s something I want to show you.’
Every nerve ending in her body was screaming for her to get out. But something else was cutting in, overriding the cold of the water.
Matt’s arm was around her waist. He’d stripped to his boxers. His body was big and tanned and strong and he was holding her against him.
Was it her imagination or was she warm where she was touching him?
The initial shock was wearing off now—a little. She could breathe again, enough to take in her surroundings.
The pool was magnificent. At one end was a waterfall, not high, maybe head height, but enough to send white water tumbling down over rocks to the pool below. The pool itself was clear and deep, but not so deep that she couldn’t see the sandy bottom. Now that she had her breath back she could see tiny slivers of darting fish.
The canopy of trees had parted a little over the pool, so dappled sunlight was playing on the water. Moss covered the surrounding rocks, and beyond the moss the horses had started grazing. They were obviously appreciating the lush grass in the slice of land where the moss ended and the ferns began.
The scene was idyllic. Enough to make her forget the ice?
Or maybe that was because Matt was beside her. Holding her.
What was a little ice compared to Matt?
‘Sh...show me,’ she managed through chattering teeth and he grinned.
‘Swim first,’ he told her. ‘Half a dozen fast laps to warm up. Can you do that?’
‘Of course. Bossy.’
‘I’m not bossy, I’m wise,’ he told her. ‘Swim or you’ll have to get out. Believe me.’
So she swam. The pool was the length of the pool her parents had in their current mansion. She’d spent a lot of time in that pool since the night Brett and Felicity had made their announcement. Swimming was a way she could block out the world.
But she had no intention of blocking the world now, for Matt swam beside her, matching her stroke for stroke. Maybe he wasn’t too sure of her ability, she thought. Maybe he thought she might drown if he didn’t stick close enough to save her.
Saved by Matt... It was a silly thought but it did something to her insides. The water was still icy but
