intention of missing the bathe—I've been looking forward to it all day."
"Since you put it so tactfully you leave me no option but to accept."
He stood up. "Come on, then."
Barbara was- amused to find that the bathing cabins were fitted with baths and divan beds. Curious to see what Rockwood's taste was like she undid the package he had given her, startled to find a brief, elegant white bikini.
When she was ready she surveyed herself in the mirror, wondering what Rockwood would think of her now. His guess at her size had been remarkably accurate, for the swim suit fitted her perfectly, the start ling whiteness contrasting sharply with the deep honey- gold of her skin. Rockwood had thoughtfully included a white flowery bathing cap, and swinging it on one wrist and with her sun-glasses shielding her eyes she stepped self-consciously out into the sunlight.
Rockwood was waiting by his cabin and if he had dot put out a hand to detain her she would have walked past him, for in his dark green swimming trunks he looked entirely different. Barbara thought she had never seen anyone whose physique was more symbolic of his character, for the words one could have used to describe his personality would have applied equally well to his appearance. The broad, heavy shoulders and chest, the narrow hips and strong, sinewy legs exuded the same dynamic forcefulness, while the firm column of his neck and proud carriage of head, with its crest of dark red hair, bespoke a proud sensitivity.
He surveyed her in silence for a moment and Barbara was glad her sun-glasses seemed to give her a protective covering, for she was painfully conscious of her semi-nudity. But to her secret chagrin Rockwood seemed more concerned with the swim suit than with her, and made her turn round several times to show him he had bought the right size.
"I'm glad it its you," he said at last. "The sales woman had no idea what size I wanted, although I des cribed you as accurately as I could."
"It's a very good fit, thank you. She must have been quite intelligent."
"Put it down to my photographic memory and the fact that I was pretty handy with a pencil at school."
"What's that got to do with it?"
"I had to draw a picture of you to show her what shape you are." There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I'm glad to see I put the right curves in the right places."
"You could always earn your living as a poster artist," Barbara retorted, not without asperity.
For the first time he seemed to look at her and not the costume. "If all my models looked like you I wouldn't mind. Pity you can't wear swimming suits more often." As he spoke he led her towards two empty deck chairs at the edge of the pool. "Would you like to get baked in the sun now or have a swim first and sun-bathe afterwards?"
Somehow unwilling to sit in close proximity with him, she decided to swim first, feeling that if they joined the shouting throng in the pool it might break the uncomfortable intimacy between them.
"Come on, Dominic, I'll race you to the pool." She ran away from him, but he followed quickly and they both dived into the water at the same time, Rockwood striking out into the centre of the pool with strong even strokes while Barbara followed more leisurely, her laborious breast-stroke no match for his swift overarm.
He turned and swam back towards her.
"Well, well," he grinned, treading water, "so there' something even you can't do to perfection!"
. "Not at all," she puffed indignantly. "I know I'm no as quick as you and this stroke doesn't look as showy,
but it"
Her words were lost as her head disappeared below the surface, and the man reached out and heaved her up beside him. Laughing and spluttering she put her hands on his shoulders as he towed her towards the side.
"Would you object if I offered to teach you to swim properly?" he enquired humourously. "Even if you don't learn the crawl I think you'll find the over-arm less ineffectual than the breast-stroke."
"I'm
"Since you put it so tactfully you leave me no option but to accept."
He stood up. "Come on, then."
Barbara was- amused to find that the bathing cabins were fitted with baths and divan beds. Curious to see what Rockwood's taste was like she undid the package he had given her, startled to find a brief, elegant white bikini.
When she was ready she surveyed herself in the mirror, wondering what Rockwood would think of her now. His guess at her size had been remarkably accurate, for the swim suit fitted her perfectly, the start ling whiteness contrasting sharply with the deep honey- gold of her skin. Rockwood had thoughtfully included a white flowery bathing cap, and swinging it on one wrist and with her sun-glasses shielding her eyes she stepped self-consciously out into the sunlight.
Rockwood was waiting by his cabin and if he had dot put out a hand to detain her she would have walked past him, for in his dark green swimming trunks he looked entirely different. Barbara thought she had never seen anyone whose physique was more symbolic of his character, for the words one could have used to describe his personality would have applied equally well to his appearance. The broad, heavy shoulders and chest, the narrow hips and strong, sinewy legs exuded the same dynamic forcefulness, while the firm column of his neck and proud carriage of head, with its crest of dark red hair, bespoke a proud sensitivity.
He surveyed her in silence for a moment and Barbara was glad her sun-glasses seemed to give her a protective covering, for she was painfully conscious of her semi-nudity. But to her secret chagrin Rockwood seemed more concerned with the swim suit than with her, and made her turn round several times to show him he had bought the right size.
"I'm glad it its you," he said at last. "The sales woman had no idea what size I wanted, although I des cribed you as accurately as I could."
"It's a very good fit, thank you. She must have been quite intelligent."
"Put it down to my photographic memory and the fact that I was pretty handy with a pencil at school."
"What's that got to do with it?"
"I had to draw a picture of you to show her what shape you are." There was a flicker of amusement in his eyes. "I'm glad to see I put the right curves in the right places."
"You could always earn your living as a poster artist," Barbara retorted, not without asperity.
For the first time he seemed to look at her and not the costume. "If all my models looked like you I wouldn't mind. Pity you can't wear swimming suits more often." As he spoke he led her towards two empty deck chairs at the edge of the pool. "Would you like to get baked in the sun now or have a swim first and sun-bathe afterwards?"
Somehow unwilling to sit in close proximity with him, she decided to swim first, feeling that if they joined the shouting throng in the pool it might break the uncomfortable intimacy between them.
"Come on, Dominic, I'll race you to the pool." She ran away from him, but he followed quickly and they both dived into the water at the same time, Rockwood striking out into the centre of the pool with strong even strokes while Barbara followed more leisurely, her laborious breast-stroke no match for his swift overarm.
He turned and swam back towards her.
"Well, well," he grinned, treading water, "so there' something even you can't do to perfection!"
. "Not at all," she puffed indignantly. "I know I'm no as quick as you and this stroke doesn't look as showy,
but it"
Her words were lost as her head disappeared below the surface, and the man reached out and heaved her up beside him. Laughing and spluttering she put her hands on his shoulders as he towed her towards the side.
"Would you object if I offered to teach you to swim properly?" he enquired humourously. "Even if you don't learn the crawl I think you'll find the over-arm less ineffectual than the breast-stroke."
"I'm
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