Apollo released him from his duties, and Itus now spends his days protecting the innocent from those who would do them harm.”
“Look—” he set down his utensils, very deliberately “—Isabella, there is no use thinking there is anything the least romantic about me. Or what I do. It’s hard, dirty, dangerous work—”
“You forgot lonely,” she said quietly.
“—and it makes me a poor choice for a companion. No, not a poor choice. The worst choice. I should have never asked you out on a date. It was stupid and frivolous.”
She felt the sharp bite of disappointment, but she was not totally unprepared for it. The crispness of his note had hinted this might be coming. At the same time, she could see it was the result of the events he had just come from that made something so simple as going on a date seem frivolous to him.
“I’ve decided,” he said, his voice curt, “a date between us is out of the question. I mean, we are living together under the same roof for two more weeks. It’s just way too awkward.”
“I agree,” she said soothingly.
That seemed to pull him up short. He regarded her suspiciously and then continued, “I mean, if I’m going to spend time with you, I should make it count. I should teach you something useful.”
She found herself gazing at his lips, thinking she had an idea or two what she’d like Connor Benson to teach her. “What would that be?”
“I should teach you how to swim.”
“Instead of a date,” she clarified.
He nodded vigorously. “It’s not good to go through life with fears.”
“Ah.” It seemed ironic that he would say that when it was more than apparent he might have a fear or two about the date he had asked her on. She decided now might not be the best time to point that out to him.
“Once you know how to swim,” Connor said seriously, “it gives you confidence and courage in dealing with all kinds of things that come up in life.”
But not dates. Again, Isabella bit her tongue to keep herself from saying it out loud. So, her Itus did not want to date her, but he still wanted to protect her, or give her some tools to protect herself.
“Someday I believe you will have children,” he continued sternly. “You can give them no greater gift than comfort in the water.”
She could argue with him, of course. It seemed unlikely she would ever have children. But if she did, it seemed to Isabella there were all kinds of gifts parents gave their children, and that the greatest of those was love, not swimming lessons.
But he was in full retreat, and she had a feeling that the mention of the word love would probably push him right out her door and out of her life, so she bit her tongue again. It was probably good to learn this tongue-biting skill. You would need it a great deal around a man like him.
“I would be deeply appreciative if you would teach me how to swim,” Isabella said.
He looked at her, wary of her demure tone.
She smiled back at him, though she had to bite her tongue, yet again, to keep from laughing out loud. She could so clearly see he was terrified of going on a date with her. His terror made her feel powerful and attractive and sexy. She had never really felt those things before. It was worth facing her own terror of the water dead-on.
A swimming lesson? He didn’t know what he was letting himself in for. In fact, Connor Benson had no idea that he was teaching her already, all about the nature of confidence and courage.
“When should we start?” she asked, sweetly. “And where?”
“I’ll arrange with Nico to use his pool,” Connor said. “An hour, every afternoon from tomorrow, Monday to Friday, should give you the basics.”
“I can learn to swim in five days?”
“Well, you won’t be trying out for the Italian swim team, but you’ll have some basic skills you can practice.”
“Thank you,” she said, lowering her eyes from his so he would not see the glee dancing in hers. When she looked back up, Connor was eyeing her suspiciously. Then he pushed back from the table and left the room.
“Things are improving between us,” she said softly to herself. “I managed to feed him something before he ran away this time.”
He probably hadn’t considered that little detail when he was planning swimming lessons. No, Connor had probably not given a single thought to how hard it was going to be to run away from her in a swimming pool, especially since she had no love of the water. She’d be clinging to him like a barnacle to the bottom of a boat.
But there was another problem. Where, in a tiny place like Monte Calanetti, on such short notice, was she going to find the right bathing suit for this? Obviously she would have to make do with what she could find for tomorrow.
But he’d said it would take a week.
It was so much better than a date! A whole week.
She went into her office and shut the door. She flipped on her computer and typed the words she wanted into the search engine. Then she narrowed the search by putting in the necessary delivery dates.
By the time Isabella was done, she felt extremely naughty. The way she had felt in the red dress should have been fair warning to her, and to Connor, both.
Isabella Rossi liked feeling naughty.
* * *
As Connor was waiting in the water of Nico’s beautiful pool, Isabella came through the back gate and gave him a quick wave before ducking into the cabana beside the pool.
He was pleased to note she looked particularly understated today in a longish skirt in a dull shade of beige and a baggy blouse in the same color. Her glossy hair was pulled back tightly, and she was carrying a large book bag that she was hugging to her chest. Really? She looked more like a nerdy student than the teacher.
He surveyed the pool while he waited for her. It was nestled in the garden grotto behind the house, and the pool had been made to look like a pond. Ferns trailed fronds in the water, and there was a small waterfall at one end of it.
Lovely as it was aesthetically, it was not really a pool for serious swimming, but it was large enough to do a few strokes, plus it had a deep end. It was about the furthest thing from the pools he had done SEAL training in, but it would do for an introduction to swimming basics.
Connor was feeling enormously pleased with himself. Teaching Isabella how to swim—instead of going on a date—had been a brainstorm. Swimming, after all, was useful. Tackling an irrational fear was useful. When he left this place, he would leave her with a skill that would be practical to her for her whole life. He would leave her with a sense of herself that was different than what it had been before. That sounded quite a bit better than leaving her with the heartache that a date promised.
She was staying here in this idyllic little village in Tuscany, and he was leaving, so what was the sense of exploring the sparks that were
