started toward the lake.

At the first touch of the cold water, Abby stopped again, digging her heels into the pebbles.

"That's cold," she declared.

Chase, who had released her hand, now stood in the water up to his knees. "It's invigorating."

"That's what people say when it's cold."

Chase waded back. "It will feel good once you get in, I promise. Just come in a bit."

Abby took a few steps, then halted, shivering.

"Doesn't that feel nice?"

"No, it feels cold."

"It'll get better."

"I don't know," she said with a doubtful shake of her head.

"It will," he said again.

Before she realized his intent, Chase scooped her into his arms and began to charge deeper into the

lake. She squealed, clinging to him as cold water splashed up onto her bottom and back.

The next thing she knew, she was completely submerged in the icy fluid, and she imagined the feeling was similar to being encased in liquid nitrogen. Maybe worse; she'd likely survive this. Then she was pulled to the surface, her numbed fingers still grasping Chase's shoulders. "See, isn't that great?" Abby used one hand to sweep the tangle of sopping hair from her face and clutched him with the other.

After letting out a sound halfway between a yell and a groan, she finally managed to mutter, "You're evil." Chase chuckled, not one iota remorseful. "You won't think so when you're diving through the water like a dolphin."

She grunted and clung to him like a barnacle, her arms around his neck, her legs around his waist.

He walked out farther into the lake, the water rising gradually up their bodies. When it was up to their chests, Chase stopped. "Are you still cold?" Abby had been so concerned with how deep he was going to go, she had forgotten about the temperature. And in fact, the water didn't feel nearly as cold as it had initially. But she wouldn't give him the satisfaction. "It's a bit better." "Okay," he said, releasing his hold from around her back. "Put your feet down." She still remained attached to him like a starfish stuck to a rock. "Is it slimy?" Chase laughed. "No, it's pretty sandy."

Gingerly, she unwrapped one leg and tested the bottom. It was sandy, no weeds or muck. She unwrapped the other.

"Who knew you were so girly," he said.

"That's not girly," she said, reasonably. "Who likes to stand in mucky stuff?"

Chase nodded, but Abby got the feeling he still thought she was girly.

After years of being treated like one of the guys by her fellow students and co-workers, it actually seemed sort of nice to be seen as a little girly.

"Okay, ready to swim?"

She nodded.

"All right," he said, "lean forward, and I'm going to place my hands under your belly."

She looked skeptical, but she did as he said.

He placed his hands flat and palm up in the water. Abby leaned onto them.

"Good. Now lift your feet."

She did, floundering a bit before she allowed herself to float, balanced by Chase's hands.

"Excellent," he cheered. "Now paddle with your hands and kick with your feet. I'll stay right with you."

She did and began to move clumsily through the water.

And so the swimming lesson went, Abby paddling and kicking, and Chase staying right with her to make

sure she didn't sink. By mid-afternoon, Abby wasn't diving through the waves like a dolphin, but she was moving right along with the grace of a dog.

"You look great," Chase said, standing back and letting her go on her own.

She swam by, hands splashing, head high out of the water, feet fluttering behind her, looking as proud as

the proverbial peacock. If a peacock could swim like a dog.

She turned and passed by him again.

"I'm telling you, baby, Chester is going to be downright jealous of your form," he called.

She paddled back and rose in front of him, an offended look on her damp face. "You're making fun of

me."

Chase blinked innocently. "I meant that any dolphin would be jealous."

"Well, I don't care if I look like a dog," she declared loftily. "Because I can swim." She paddled off again.

Chase laughed. She was so damned adorable. Way cuter than a dog, or dolphin-or a peacock for that matter.

He watched her for a moment longer, happiness and a funny feeling of pride welling in his chest. Then on her third pass by him, he snagged her ankle and pulled her back.

She yelped but allowed him to catch her. "What are you doing? I was practicing."

"I think our swimming lesson is over for the day," he said.

Disappointment curled her lips downward.

"And now it's time to pay your instructor." He jerked her against him, running his hands over the slick material of her suit.

Abby raised an eyebrow. "And how much do I owe?"

"Oh, quite a bit. How much money do you have?" He nibbled the wet skin of her shoulder.

She wriggled against him, her legs fluttering around his.

"None," she murmured, mimicking his action on his shoulder.

"Well, I'm not letting you go without payment," he said firmly and licked the curve of her collarbone.

"But how can I possibly pay?" Her tongue traced the line of his collarbone in return.

His lips moved up her neck until he reached her ear.

"You'll have to think of something," he whispered, then tugged her earlobe with his teeth. "Can you think of anything?"

She released a shaky breath, then drifted a few inches away from him. "All I have is myself."

Her voice was low and coy and so incredibly sexy that Chase's heart hammered in his chest and his penis seemed ready to pry its way out of his cut-offs. She floated just out of his reach. The sunlight lit the water so he could see her creamy limbs and all her poppy red curves moving in sinuous flutters under the rippling surface.

"And what would I do with you?" he asked, trying to keep his voice impassive.

"Whatever you want." Her lips parted, and her wet lashes fanned low over her eyes.

Damn, he'd died and gone to heaven. But he wasn't quite ready to let the game end. "Anything?"

She nodded.

"I can strip off that sexy red suit?"

She glanced at the beach. It was deserted. She nodded.

"I can touch you all over?"

She nodded-quite eagerly.

"I can sink myself deep inside you?"

She whimpered, and nodded.

He pretended to think it over. "Okay," he agreed, reaching forward to catch her.

She glided toward him, until her arms were wrapped around his neck. She pressed her lips to his.

But Chase took control of the embrace, his mouth moving over hers in needy, eager caresses, his tongue

brushing against her lips, her teeth, her tongue.

As they kissed, their bodies touched in much the same fashion. Long, wet strokes of skin over skin.

His mouth left hers, and he trailed hungry, openmouthed kisses across her shoulder, tasting the crispness

of the water on her sweet flesh.

Abby slipped away enough so she could skim his hands over his chest.

"I love how you feel, all hard and wet," she murmured, nibbling on his neck, her hands still slipping over

his torso.

"I think there are places that are harder."

She lifted her head and grinned naughtily. "I think there are places that are wetter as well."

"You're becoming a regular strumpet, you know that?" He grinned back and ran a hand over the

sleekness of her bathing suit to cup her bottom.

"I can't imagine where I learned such behavior," she said innocently. "I think it must be the influence of

the local bad boy."