live here always—in a house on that high flat next to the old orchard. Then, every morning, I could pick an apple for breakfast, run down the hill and jump into the river."
"Maybe you will someday."
A cloud passed over her face. "Probably not. My uncle has leased this property for years. There's about eighty acres of good pasture here. But the owners recently put it on the market. And Uncle Hiram's not in a position to buy it." She shrugged her shoulders, then forced a grin. "Besides, when the apples are ripe, it's too late in the fall to swim."
Jordan's fingers feathered lightly along her cheekbone.
"Thank you for bringing me here, for sharing it with me."
His touch was doing strange things to her heartbeat. Sarah tried to tell herself to ignore it even as she fought to prevent herself from turning her head into the caress. She sat up abruptly. "Beauty should be shared to be appreciated—otherwise, we take it for granted. That's why I brought you here." She reached down to tug off her shoes. "Let's go swimming. Last one in is a rotten egg."
She quickly stripped to the two-piece swimsuit she wore under her jeans and cotton shirt and entered the pool in a shallow dive. The shock of the cold water restored her equilibrium. She looked back toward the shore, laughing as she watched Jordan hopping up and down on one bare foot, trying to remove his boot from the other.
"That was an unfair advantage," he protested, as he tugged the second boot free. "I wasn't ready."
Sarah's musical laugh echoed in the glen. "All's fair in—" Her voice died. Sunlight danced across his shoulders and chest as he quickly shed his shirt.
"So it's war." His eyes glittered wickedly as he took a menacing step toward the pool, his hands busy at the button flap of his jeans. Just be warned. Rotten eggs don't play fair."
Sarah ducked her head under the water, hoping the cold water would reduce the heat in her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, an attempt to ignore the image of his all-but-perfect body clad in leaf-green boxer-style swim trunks.
She surfaced in time to see him enter the pool in a graceful racing dive. He surfaced and with a casual toss of his head, scattered a shower of water droplets like a fist full of diamonds. "Race you to the waterfall and back. And I'll be fair. You can have a head start. Your arms are shorter."
"How much of a head start?"
Jordan answered her teasing grin with one of his own. "See the snag on the left bank. You can start from there."
Sarah looked at the dead tree, which was approximately a third of the way to the waterfall. "You're on." She moved toward her starting point in a leisurely crawl, then turned to look back at him. "Don't kick too deep. The center channel's only about four feet deep, except right in front of the fall."
As Jordan acknowledged her warning, she positioned herself in the water opposite the dead tree. "Go," he hollered, watching for another second as Sarah began swimming toward the waterfall in a well-controlled, fast-paced crawl. Then he began, his strokes unaffected by the slight upstream resistance as he followed her through the water. Each of his strokes reduced the distance between them.
She was only a couple of arm lengths ahead of him when she reached the fall pool. He flipped out of his turn, pulled aside, slowed to give her a wicked wink, then pulled steadily ahead. He was standing at the starting point when Sarah, her chest heaving from her efforts, joined him, treading water while she tried to catch her breath.
"Somehow I knew you were the kind of person to finish a race, even when you know you've lost."
"I'm out of practice", she gasped, "but I don't think it would have made a difference. You're good."
Jordan pulled her against him. "Here, rest against me. I'm tall enough to stand."
"What are you? A former Olympian?"
He gave her a mischievous grin. "Hardly, but I will admit to competitive swimming years ago. I try to keep in shape."
"I should have known that when
"Maybe you will someday."
A cloud passed over her face. "Probably not. My uncle has leased this property for years. There's about eighty acres of good pasture here. But the owners recently put it on the market. And Uncle Hiram's not in a position to buy it." She shrugged her shoulders, then forced a grin. "Besides, when the apples are ripe, it's too late in the fall to swim."
Jordan's fingers feathered lightly along her cheekbone.
"Thank you for bringing me here, for sharing it with me."
His touch was doing strange things to her heartbeat. Sarah tried to tell herself to ignore it even as she fought to prevent herself from turning her head into the caress. She sat up abruptly. "Beauty should be shared to be appreciated—otherwise, we take it for granted. That's why I brought you here." She reached down to tug off her shoes. "Let's go swimming. Last one in is a rotten egg."
She quickly stripped to the two-piece swimsuit she wore under her jeans and cotton shirt and entered the pool in a shallow dive. The shock of the cold water restored her equilibrium. She looked back toward the shore, laughing as she watched Jordan hopping up and down on one bare foot, trying to remove his boot from the other.
"That was an unfair advantage," he protested, as he tugged the second boot free. "I wasn't ready."
Sarah's musical laugh echoed in the glen. "All's fair in—" Her voice died. Sunlight danced across his shoulders and chest as he quickly shed his shirt.
"So it's war." His eyes glittered wickedly as he took a menacing step toward the pool, his hands busy at the button flap of his jeans. Just be warned. Rotten eggs don't play fair."
Sarah ducked her head under the water, hoping the cold water would reduce the heat in her face. She squeezed her eyes shut, an attempt to ignore the image of his all-but-perfect body clad in leaf-green boxer-style swim trunks.
She surfaced in time to see him enter the pool in a graceful racing dive. He surfaced and with a casual toss of his head, scattered a shower of water droplets like a fist full of diamonds. "Race you to the waterfall and back. And I'll be fair. You can have a head start. Your arms are shorter."
"How much of a head start?"
Jordan answered her teasing grin with one of his own. "See the snag on the left bank. You can start from there."
Sarah looked at the dead tree, which was approximately a third of the way to the waterfall. "You're on." She moved toward her starting point in a leisurely crawl, then turned to look back at him. "Don't kick too deep. The center channel's only about four feet deep, except right in front of the fall."
As Jordan acknowledged her warning, she positioned herself in the water opposite the dead tree. "Go," he hollered, watching for another second as Sarah began swimming toward the waterfall in a well-controlled, fast-paced crawl. Then he began, his strokes unaffected by the slight upstream resistance as he followed her through the water. Each of his strokes reduced the distance between them.
She was only a couple of arm lengths ahead of him when she reached the fall pool. He flipped out of his turn, pulled aside, slowed to give her a wicked wink, then pulled steadily ahead. He was standing at the starting point when Sarah, her chest heaving from her efforts, joined him, treading water while she tried to catch her breath.
"Somehow I knew you were the kind of person to finish a race, even when you know you've lost."
"I'm out of practice", she gasped, "but I don't think it would have made a difference. You're good."
Jordan pulled her against him. "Here, rest against me. I'm tall enough to stand."
"What are you? A former Olympian?"
He gave her a mischievous grin. "Hardly, but I will admit to competitive swimming years ago. I try to keep in shape."
"I should have known that when
Similar Books
