"Wake up, lazybones!" Chase called to the pile of twisted blankets in the middle of his bed.

The blankets rustled and eventually, Abby poked her head out, squinting at him.

"What are you doing up?" she mumbled, her voice low and drowsy.

Chase loved her voice, especially in the morning. It was husky and a bit deeper.

"I didn't even hear you get out of bed," she said, modestly holding the blanket to her chest as she sat up.

"What time is it?"

"Around eleven, and time for you to get up."

She looked unconvinced. "Why don't you come back to bed?"

With her tousled hair and sleep-flushed skin, Chase found the temptation strong, but he managed to shake his head. "Nope, we've got something to do today."

"We do? What?"

A flat brown paper bag materialized from behind Chase's back. The green logo of a local clothing shop was imprinted on the parcel.

"What's that?" Abby asked, as some of the sleepiness left her eyes.

Chase sat on the edge of the bed and held it out to her. "Look."

Taking the bag with hesitant interest, she cast a look at him.

When he nodded encouragingly, she unfolded the end of it and peeked inside. Slowly, she reached in and pulled out a twisted scrap of red material. Holding it up, she studied the item, confusion evident on her face.

"What is it?" she finally asked.

Rolling his eyes, he tugged the cloth out of her hands, and spread it out on top of the rumpled quilt.

"It's a bathing suit," Abby said with dawning recognition, but puzzlement still creased her face.

"That's right. It's a bathing suit. We're going to learn to swim today."

A look somewhere between doubt and fear crossed her face. "I don't know, Chase. I think I'm too old."

"You're never too old." He grabbed the suit and jumped off the bed. "Come on. Put it on."

When Abby remained in the nest of bedding, he caught her hand and yanked her from the bed. She came, still clutching a sheet to hide her nakedness.

"You said you wanted to learn to swim," he said.

She shook her head. "I believe I said I wished I had learned to swim."

"No difference," Chase informed her as he dragged her to the bathroom. "Now put this on and I'll get my trunks on."

"Do I gotta?" she asked as she accepted the red suit.

Chase laughed. "Yeah, you gotta." He pushed her in the bathroom and closed the door behind her.

He returned to the bedroom and got into his swimsuit, which was actually just a pair of old cut-off jeans.

Then, deciding he'd given Abby more than enough time, he headed back to the bathroom.

The door was still shut and not a single noise came from inside.

"Abby," he called through the panel, "does it fit?"

There was a pause. "I guess. Sort of."

"Well, let me see."

Another pause. "Maybe you should bring me a T-shirt to wear over it."

Chase smiled, but kept any signs of humor from his voice. "Okay, but let me see it."

Yet another pause, and finally the doorknob slowly turned. When Abby stepped out she was still draped head to toe in the sheet she'd dragged from the bed.

"That's not going to be easy to swim in," Chase observed with a grin.

"The suit is sort of skimpy," Abby said, her cheeks growing pink even with the sheet shrouding her.

"It's not a bikini or anything. I was tempted by one particularly tiny little suit with pink flamingos all over

it, but it wasn't your style."

Abby looked exceedingly thankful. "No, that isn't. Although I don't think any bathing suit is really my style." "Well, let me be the judge of that." Abby started to loosen her hold on her sheet, but stopped. "Abby, I've seen you naked-a lot." Her color deepened. "But I didn't have to go out in public naked, too." He caught her around the waist and planted a comforting kiss on her forehead. "I'm sure it looks fine.

You're being too hard on yourself." His hands moved to her sides, and he gently peeled the white cotton away.

At first, she continued to clutch the cloth, but after a few insistent tugs, she released it.

Chase stepped back and he tried to keep his eyes from popping wide open.

"Fine" was not the word to describe Abby in the suit. She looked fantastic. The simple style of the tank hugged her trim waist and accentuated the womanly flare of her hips. The bottom of the suit rose slightly on her hips and made her gorgeous legs look like they went on forever. And the small plunge of the neckline showed a delectable hint of cleavage. All of that would have been impossible to ignore. But given that all those lovely curves were encased in bright, poppy red, it was damned near impossible to look away.

"You look-" He gave up and let his eyes pop. "You look gorgeous."

Abby cast an unconvinced glance down at herself. "I'm not sure."

"I'm sure," Chase said adamantly. "Every man on the beach is going to be crazy as a loon. They won't

be able to take their eyes off you." Her expression conveyed that she didn't find that particularly reassuring. And suddenly Chase didn't either. He had no desire to share his lady with others, even if it was just a poppy red-covered hint of her amazing attributes. "Maybe you do need a T-shirt," he decided. Chapter 24

Birch Hill Pond was really a lake by most people's standards, but as Abby stood on the pebbled beach, looking at the wide expanse of water, it might as well have been the ocean.

Dread gripped her stomach, and she struggled to swallow.

"How deep is this lake?"

Chase thought for a moment. "Maybe sixty feet. Not terribly deep."

It sounded terribly deep to her.

"I don't want to learn how to swim," she concluded.

Chase chuckled, which wasn't the reaction she was looking for. "I'll be right with you the whole time. You'll love it."

She stared at the ripples of the greenish blue surface and concentrated on the gentle lap of the water against the beach. She had always wished she could swim. She loved the water from the distance, but now that she had the opportunity to go into it, she felt frightened.

"It's really going to be fine," Chase assured her. "You've faced bigger challenges than this. You survived thirteen years of school in Millbrook."

He had a point there.

"And you got your doctorate with the highest grades."

She glanced at him. "How do you know that?"

"Did you?"

"Yes," she admitted begrudgingly.

"There you go. And you dated a guy for how long?"

She was confused, but answered, "About twelve years."

Chase winced, horrified, then said, "And you dated a guy for twelve years without having an orgasm."

"Chase!" she hissed and looked around to make sure no one had overheard. Fortunately, the only people around were a couple all the way on the other side of the beach.

"If you survived that, believe me, you can survive a little water." He appeared very sincere about that fact.

Abby glanced back out at the water. He did have a point. She'd handled difficult situations before.

"Okay," she agreed, taking a step toward the water.

Chase caught her wrist. "Take off the T-shirt."

"I thought you agreed the shirt was a good idea."

"I did when I thought there might be guys here to ogle you, but the beach is deserted. And I want to ogle

you," he said with a devilish little grin.

"What about the people over there?"

They looked over at the distant couple. It was immediately apparent they weren't going to help her

cause, as they were intertwined on their towel, too busy making out to notice her bathing suit, bright red or not. "Lose the shirt, babe," he repeated with a smug grin. "I'm going to buy you a Speedo and see how you feel." He shrugged and reached for the button of his cut-offs. "I'll skinny dip if that makes you feel better."

"No," she said quickly, then added, "at least not now."

His grin broadened, and he moved his hands to the hem of his T-shirt. He peeled it off, and Abby stared.

There was no way she would ever get tired of looking at him. His jean shorts rode low on his hips, and

she could count each ridge of muscles down his stomach.

His small belly button showed above the waistband, and whorls of dark hair surrounded the little indentation and disappeared into his shorts. His upper body was deep gold from working in the sun without a shirt.

He looked perfect. Beyond perfect, if there was such a thing.

"Okay, if you get to ogle me, then I definitely get to ogle you," he stated.

Abby stuck out her tongue, but found the bottom of her T-shirt and pulled it off.

Even though she still felt self-conscious, Chase's expression went a long way toward calming her. Or

exciting her. Either way, she did feel better about the suit.

After a few seconds and shared appreciation for one another's scanty attire, he caught her hand and