The Secret Prince by Kathryn Jensen Page A

walking and frowned. “What then?”
    â€œThe lake,” he said. “I could see a corner of it from my window, and it doesn’t look as if it’s that far. A mile or so.”
    â€œGood. By the time we get there, I’ll be hungry enough for lunch, and we can see what Cook has packed for us.” She peered curiously at the mesh bag.
    Dan set a crisp walking pace, and Elly seemed to have no trouble keeping up. Color filled her cheeks as they strode away from town, past cottages and into a wooded area that reminded him of tales from his childhood—Little Red Riding Hood, Hansel and Gretel. He felt free and young and daring, and having Elly at his side made the outing even more delicious.
    The knowledge that nothing could happen between them seemed less painful here. They could be friends, as she wanted, and share an outing without feeling compelled to be anything more. He felt in a very reasonable, mature mood at the moment.
    By the time the trees opened out into a clearing andhe could see a ribbon of blue water before them, his body felt energized from the exercise. He was pleasantly aware of Elly’s slim figure beside him, and of her breathing which was quicker and deeper from the walking. But he felt satisfied that he could enjoy her presence without becoming aroused. This is good, he thought.
    â€œHungry?” she asked.
    â€œIf you are, we can eat first.”
    â€œFirst?” She looked around as if trying to assess alternatives, given the deserted woods surrounding them. A worry line creased her forehead.
    â€œI thought we might go for a swim,” he suggested.
    â€œYou’re kidding, in the middle of winter?” She laughed, then went on before he could respond. “Oh, I forgot, you’re the one with the elevated body temperature who swims in oceans in November.”
    He grinned. “Feel this.” He took her hand and walked her down to the edge of the water.
    She humored him and bent down to touch her fingertips to the water’s softly lapping wavelets. Her expression changed from wariness to amazement. “It’s warm. Why?”
    â€œFed by a thermal spring. Cook’s husband told me about it while he was dressing me. It stays the same temperature year round.” And with the sun beaming down on them, it didn’t seem too cold to shed clothing that now felt much too heavy for the day.
    â€œI can’t swim very well,” Elly objected. “And I don’t have a bathing suit.”
    He winked at her. “You have a natural one.”
    â€œOh, no!” She laughed at him. “Skinny dipping alone might be one thing but not—”
    â€œNot with me looking on with lust in my heart?” he teased her.
    â€œSomething like that.” Her pretty eyes skittered away from his.
    â€œYou wore that stretchy little athletic bra and bike shorts this morning. Didn’t cover anything more than undies. Swim in your underwear.”
    She gazed longingly out over the crystal-blue water. “It does look refreshing,” she admitted, “after all that exercise.”
    â€œGo for it,” he encouraged her, already shrugging out of his jacket and starting to unbutton the gardener’s flannel shirt. He stripped down to his hip-hugging briefs.
    Elly hesitated only a moment longer. Then, with one final cautious look around her, as if to make sure no one was watching, she tore off her coat then the white cotton smock. She still looked a little nervous, but her eyes gleamed at the water and she ran barefoot toward it shouting at him, “I’ll beat you in!”
    â€œOh no you won’t!” he yelled, even as he raced toward the water’s edge, flashed past her and dove, slicing through the mirror surface at a shallow angle. The water glided over his flesh, supporting him with less buoyancy than his lady the ocean but still gently lifting him so that he could skim up to the surface with little effort. He