he walked to the shore, he snatched up her discarded dress, then whistled through his teeth. Lily immediately stood to face him, her naked breasts exposed and gleaming in the morning light. Tristan expected her to sink back down into the water, but she didn’t. Instead, she tipped her chin up and stared at him with defiance in her eyes.
“What do you want?”
“I want you to come out of the water and put your clothes on,” he said.
She dipped down and then rose again, tipping her chin up as she stood and smoothing her hair back. “I want to swim,” she said. “I need the exercise.”
“You need to put your clothes on before anyone else comes looking. I just chased off one Peeping Tom, I don’t want to have to chase off any more.”
“Who appointed you my protector?”
“You apparently require one,” Tristan said. “So I guess I’m your guy.”
With a curse, she started toward him. As her naked body began to emerge from the water, Tristan held out her dress and angled his gaze away.
“What’s wrong with you?” she muttered. “Are you going to melt if you catch a glimpse of a naked woman?”
“No,” he said. “I just thought you’d enjoy your privacy.”
“It’s just a naked body,” she said. “The same as any other naked body. I have all the proper parts, so there’s nothing of interest to see.” Lily snatched the dress from his hand, but when he finally turned, she hadn’t bothered to put it on.
With a curse more vivid than hers, Tristan grabbed the dress, shook it out and then held it over her head. He tried to keep from looking as she raised her arms, but the sight was impossible to ignore. A surge of desire washed over him and he fought the temptation to toss the dress aside and strip off his own clothes.
He could almost feel her naked body against his, skin to skin, the soft flesh of her breasts pressed to his chest. His fingers twitched as he imagined running his hands along her torso, smoothing his palms over her hips and backside.
“Are you sure you’re a writer?” she muttered, the dress falling over her until her damp body was once again covered.
Tristan sucked in a sharp breath. Had he given himself away already? “Why?”
“Most of the writers I’ve known haven’t been prudes.”
“Like I said, there was a guy watching you from the shore. He had binoculars. Who can say what his intentions were?”
“That was Bernie.”
“Bernie, the science fiction guy? The one I met this morning.”
Lily leaned over and twisted the water from her dripping hair. “Yes, Bernie. He’s harmless.”
“You don’t mind that he watches you?”
“He hasn’t seen many naked women in his life. He’s kind of shy and I suppose he’s curious.”
Tristan laughed. “So you’re doing him a public service by letting him gawk?”
She shrugged, droplets of water glinting off her dark lashes. “I can’t search the woods every time I want to go for a swim.” Lily started toward the path, her bare feet kicking up sand and dirt until they were covered in both.
Tristan strode after her. “Why did you run away after I kissed you?”
“Because unlike Bernie, you’re not harmless. In fact, I think you’re a very dangerous man, Mr. Quinn James...if that is your real name.”
Tristan bit back a curse. It was clear she was suspicious of him. But how deep did that go? Was it just his romantic interest that made her wary? Or did she suspect the level of his deception? “Lots of writers use pen names,” he said.
“Published writers,” she countered. “Is Quinn your real name?”
“It is,” Tristan lied. He knew what she meant and he also knew he was twisting the truth to suit his own purposes. But in the end, he could freely admit that Quinn was his real name.
“And why did you kiss me? Would you like to try the truth on that question?”
Tristan grabbed her hand and pulled her to a stop, spinning her around to face him. He wasn’t sure he could put an answer into words. Right now, standing here with her just inches away in a dress that clung to her wet body, he had an undeniable need to draw her into his arms and put his mouth to hers once again. But that would hardly put her suspicions to rest.
“It seemed like the only thing to do,” Tristan said in a soft voice. “I couldn’t help myself.” He shook his head. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are? Do you understand what that kind of beauty does to a man?”
Lily stared at him for a long moment, then laughed. It wasn’t a nervous laugh or even a sarcastic laugh. She clearly considered his statement ridiculous.
‘“Beauty is not found in the face. It’s a light in the heart.”’
“Who told you that?”
“My aunts. It’s from the poet Kahlil Gibran. My aunts raised me to believe that true beauty was found inside me and had nothing to do with my outside appearance.”
“Well, this might shock you, but they were wrong. You’re beautiful on the outside, too, Lily, and it’s about time someone told you that.”
“I’ll alert the media,” she muttered. “News flash—another beautiful woman in the world. I’m sure they’ll want to rush right over and get the story.”
“Hasn’t anyone ever told you how beautiful you are? Your mother or father?”
“I didn’t spend a lot of time with my parents. During the school year, they sent me to a very strict Catholic boarding school where mirrors and all beauty products were banned and conformity was enforced. And in the summer, I lived here with my aunts, where I was encouraged to let my spirit run free.”
“Wow,” Tristan replied. “That must have been some childhood.”
“Not all of us were blessed with perfect parents. Mine didn’t have children, they produced heirs.”
“My parents weren’t Ward and June Cleaver, either.”
Lily frowned. “Who are Ward and June Cleaver?”
“From Leave It To Beaver. Nick at Nite? It’s an old television show.”
“I think I saw that once.”
“Once?”
“Or twice. We didn’t have American television at boarding school. And the aunts never allowed a television here in the colony. I don’t remember beavers in the show.”
“No, that was the name of their son,” Tristan explained.
“They named their son
