He was sure, that is, until he woke up to a room filled with pale gold sunlight, his mind sharp and focused on the target of Natalie resting down the hallway, his body rigid and aching with desire.
He stood and threw on a pair of jeans. He’d just look at her while she slept. That’s all he planned to do, he promised himself.
He pushed open the guest room door and saw the empty, made beds. He charged down the hallway.
Where had she gone? Had she changed her mind about staying with him and walked home?
Some instinct made him swerve off target and enter the empty upstairs room—George Myerson’s old saloon. For a moment he stood motionless at one of the windows, watching as Natalie paused in the shallows of the lake, gathering her long, unbound hair and restraining it at her neck. Her movements held him spellbound. He recalled how he’d been so entranced by her hands when he’d first seen her dancing on the beach.
She began to walk deeper into the water. Her rib cage and waist were so narrow, so graceful…such a striking contrast to her feminine hips. He recalled in graphic detail what those curves felt like filling his palms.
Idiots. All those guys her age must have been witless fools not to see how beautiful she was…how glorious.
He turned and left the room, determination and desire hastening his steps.
The dawn-chilled water provided the brisk slap of distraction Natalie required. She’d slept solidly for five or six hours, strangely content in the embrace of the quiet old house. She’d awoken early, though, and fallen prey to her worries.
Not to mention her memories.
Those things Liam had whispered roughly in her ear last night while he’d played her flesh like a maestro—illicit things, exciting things…but sweet things, as well.
So sweet.
Every recalled word was like a heated touch as she lay there, alone and sweating in bed.
She’d crept downstairs to find her swimsuit. The frigid lake water would help her to quench the burning in her body.
It took her a moment to realize that a current had caught her as she swam. She straightened in the water and tried to break free of the push of the flowing undertow while treading water. A cry of frustration left her throat when she realized the current was stronger than she was. She’d been caught in a current a few times and knew she wasn’t supposed to fight it. The force of the water usually diminished after a short span.
The only problem was, the current was carrying her at a surprisingly fast pace toward the old, jagged breakwater. Natalie saw that a portion of the rock embankment seemed to have fallen during the night. The waves surging fast and furious through the opening in the wall appeared to be what was causing the unusually strong current.
She remained calm, even as she swooped toward the wall, unable to control her movement except to keep her head above the churning water. She suspected the worst that would happen was a cut or a bruise as her body struck the rocks, but then she’d be able to push off the solid barrier and break free of the current.
Her concern grew, however, when she felt the fierceness of the flowing undertow as she flew toward the black, slick rocks. They looked sharper the closer she got. An alarm went off in her brain for the first time when another current seemed to join the one that held her prisoner from another direction, increasing the force of the surging water.
A wave of water splashed into her face, making her sputter for air. She should never have swum alone. Hadn’t she known since she was a child that it was dangerous to do so?
Distantly, she thought she heard someone calling her name, but the water was rushing around her now. Only frothing water and the black rocks set against a bizarrely benign-looking blue sky existed in her vision. She trie
d to lift her legs in preparation to catapult off the rocks, but the current held them as if in a vise. Terror pierced her consciousness. Water filled her mouth and she barely had the wherewithal to spit it out as she braced for the crush of the rocks.
Suddenly hands wrapped around her ribs. For a split second, her motion in the strong current eased and then came to a halt. Water still rushed around her body, but the hands held her in place.
“Liam,” she sputtered, glancing wildly to the left and seeing him, his head wet and his face rigid with strain. For a frightening second, the current took hold again. She sensed him recoil, and knew he’d hit the rocks, and then they were shooting through the water in the opposite direction of the crumbling breakwater.
“I was just…an undertow caught me…thought I’d…” She paused, coughing when they came to a stop. He still held her while Natalie treaded water feebly, trying to catch her breath. Liam had sprung them out of the undertow, she realized, by allowing his feet to crash against the breakwater and kicking, propelling himself and grabbing Natalie out of the powerful current.
After a moment, her breathing became more regular.
“I’m okay,” she muttered, taking in Liam’s expression fully for the first time. His face was fixed and anxious. “Thank you so much. I thought I could push off the rocks, but the current was so strong. I wasn’t sure I could lift my legs and…”
“Shh,” he hushed, his hands shifting on her back and waist. “Don’t talk right now. Are you okay? Can you swim, or do you need me to carry you?”
“No. I’m okay. I can swim.”
“Show me,” he said, releasing her.
He treaded water as he watched her, his anxiety so palpable she never thought to argue with him. She began to swim to shore. Every time she turned her head to breathe, she saw him swimming next to her, his face above water. His blue eyes remained pinned to her, so luminous and fierce in the morning sunlight, it made Natalie feel as if she was being accompanied by a sea-dwelling sentinel sent to guard her.