that came with shorts and really concealed her assets. But due to a series of phone meetings today Liam was coming in a good two hours before they usually started seeing patients.
And she was going to make the most out of that situation because, murky ethics or not, she did want more from him. She just had to start laying the groundwork now even if she couldn’t act on it while he was her patient, and also because her grand gestures to seduce the man had never seemed to work out the way she’d envisioned.
She was going to wear her black bikini, the one she kept for swimming when no one else was in the pool. The one she’d been wearing that first day when he’d stumbled over her.
Because in the four days since she’d seen him, Grace had come to some realizations.
She could deal with humiliation, but she couldn’t handle not knowing what it would be like to be with him.
Liam got under her skin more than anyone ever had, and if that never happened again, she’d regret not experiencing it.
Yes, anything to do with him made her completely unable to predict how it was going to go—she couldn’t make a safe play because she didn’t know what was safe when it came to Liam. Not trying and going another five, or fifteen, or fifty years wondering what if? Or living with the humiliation she’d become so accustomed to if he turned her down?
Knowing he wanted her made that at least easier to stomach.
It wasn’t a great plan, but she’d lived a safe life too long. She needed some risk. Liam wouldn’t be the death of her, and if she was lucky, it would give her the kind of symmetry that her heart needed. Finish something that had started back then.
She went to change.
And if this bikini didn’t work, that was okay: it was stage one. She had something much flimsier to try if she had to break out bigger ammunition for stage two.
Maybe she should convince him to go for a house call. His pool or the one at her place. There were pools to be had in LA where she could lure him with privacy and tempt him with tiny bikinis.
Not a great plan, but it was better than the trench coat. At least in theory.
* * *
“This exercise is not as advertised,” Liam said, sliding into the hotel’s rooftop pool he’d rented for the evening and had closed an hour early for his therapy with Grace, watching her across the pool where she stood in a black bikini so small only microkini enthusiasts would say it wasn’t revealing enough.
The woman’s bathing suits just kept getting smaller.
She dropped the towels she’d been carrying at the edge and slid into the water.
“It’s water. We’re going to be walking and swimming tonight, working the joint in three different ways.”
“And we could have done this at the clinic. I know what you’re up to, Watson.”
Driving me crazy.
The use of her last name got her attention and Grace swam to his side of the pool, no doubt because it was faster than walking, even though the water wasn’t more than waist deep on him. She stopped and stood in front of him, the water sluicing down her body, rippling over that soft, golden skin. He sighed and leaned back against the side.
True to her guarantees, his ankle improved a little every day. But his willpower? That was now limping along.
What came next? Topless pool therapy day?
Having a private pool suddenly seemed like a really legit reason for investing in real estate.
If he were into one-night stands, he’d find some woman to get naked with just to relieve the stress that spending every day with Grace in progressively smaller bathing suits was putting on his libido control.
“Not going to deny it?”
“Deny that I’m up to something?” The smile she gave him flashed so wickedly that he had to look anywhere but at her.
She maneuvered until she was beside him, facing in the same direction, and murmured, “You need to go a little deeper.”
Deeper. Yes. Really...deep.
“Quit that,” he bit out. “Just tell me what to do.”
“Quit what?”
Like she didn’t know what she was doing. “Don’t play innocent with me. I’m onto you. Don’t do that...provocative...well, it wasn’t exactly dirty talk but you know we do that. Sexy double talk.”
She pointed across his chest to the deeper end of the pool. “So you knew what I meant. Good. Move a little that way. The water should come up to your ribs. We’re going to do some walking in the water. Back and forth here for a warm-up and then each time we’ll move a little farther up the pool to progressively shallower water, so you’ll be taking more weight on it each time. See how far you can go up. Then the same thing tomorrow.”
“Is this the new measurement system?”
“Yes. Your range of motion is greatly improved so now we’re working on slowly increasing strength.”
“And are you going to admit what you’re up to?” He asked the question but started walking in that slow, mostly submerged, bouncy fashion across the short length of the pool, staying in the same water depth.
She stayed beside him as he did as instructed, like he needed help or a safety net. Would it be better or worse if she were out of the pool and he got a view of her skimpy bikini every time he came toward her?
“You want a confession?”
“Yes.” He stopped at the other side of the pool and turned around to start the return trip.
“I thought you didn’t want to know all the details of what’s going on in my head.”
Frustration reaching snapping point, Liam paused long enough to brace his good leg against the bottom of the pool for support.
Grace stopped and looked at him, concern in her eyes.
Before she could say anything, he grabbed her by the waist, jumped as high as he could, and chucked her a few feet away from him in the water. He’d thrown that woman in the pool more times than he could count as teenagers. Usually in more shallow water, or from the side of the pool, where he could really get a good fling on her and send her flying. The ribs-deep water made that harder, but she still went under with a satisfying splash.
When she came up sputtering and laughing, he nodded and continued walking. “I don’t. But apparently it’s the only way through this. So out with it.”
“I’m done playing it safe,” Grace said, still smiling from the reminder of their old, more innocent games, as she approached him again to resume walking.
“That means what?”
“That means that I’ve realized that just because I’m afraid of losing again it doesn’t mean that I can live with myself if I don’t try.”
“You
