The Secret Prince by Kathryn Jensen Page B

broke through with a splash and stood on the silty bottom, looking around for Elly.
    She had walked in and stood with the water up to her waist. “This is marvelous! It felt cool near the edge, but there’s a current of warmth right where I’m standing. Must be from the spring.”
    He nodded, pretending to listen to her words, but far more interested in the view—her pert breasts rising seductively above her bra, her slim waist, her eyes shining at him.
    â€œCould you swim well enough to make it up the shore to that floating log?” he asked, pointing a hundred feet or so up the beach.
    â€œProbably. I can manage a decent doggie paddle,” she admitted, “and a slow crawl. I took summer swimming classes at the Y when I was a teenager.”
    â€œLet’s go then.” He started out slowly, giving her time to get used to the feel of the water around her body, then he let her set the pace. She had a nice, compact stroke, although he suspected she’d tire quickly, not being used to swimming any distance or often. He liked the way she seemed to feel comfortable in the water, turning her face into it for two good strokes before swiveling her head to the right for a breath.
    They reversed direction and came back to where they had started. When she stood up, Elly looked toward the woods.
    â€œStill worried about Peeping Toms?” he teased.
    â€œI thought I saw something move near those trees.”
    Dan looked but could see nothing. He came behind her, wrapped his arms around her and gave her a quick, reassuring hug. When she lifted her head he gave her a light kiss on the lips over her shoulder, then quickly backed off. “More likely a deer or a fox than a person,” he said, “this time of year.”
    She nodded and blew out a soft breath. “It’s amazing. I’m not the least bit cold, even though it’s winter. But I am starving.”
    â€œLet’s eat then.”
    Out of the water they pulled on their coats then sat on the mossy bank. The sun was warm and Elly feltstrangely at ease, sitting with Dan wearing only underclothes beneath their jackets, eating thick country sandwiches of Emmentaler cheese, spicy bratwurst sausage and mustard, nibbling on pickles and washing it all down with white wine Dan had uncorked for them. It seemed Cook had thought of everything.
    As she finished her sandwich and brushed the crumbs from her fingers and lap she couldn’t help laughing softly to herself. Dan turned to look at her. “What?”
    â€œI feel like a high-school kid, sneaking out for a secret date with a boy.”
    â€œSkinny dipped at the beach with the boys, did you?” He was grinning and she accommodated him by blushing.
    â€œNo. I was boringly shy, I’m afraid. It’s taken me this long to pull a stunt like this.”
    â€œBut you still drew the line,” he said, tipping his head in the direction of her modest beige bra and panties, peeking out from beneath her coat.
    â€œThe remainders of my conservative youth.” She shook her head and smiled but couldn’t help letting her eyes shift to the opening of his jacket and the well-defined shape within Dan’s briefs.
    His body in the water that day had been just as breathtaking as on that first day she’d seen him. Above the low line of his navy-blue briefs his stomach was hard and flat. A reddish brown smattering of hair rose across it and patterned out wider and darker to almost black across his muscled chest. His shoulders were beautifully formed—sleek, muscled, shaped by hundreds of strokes along the Haven’s beach.
    She suddenly wanted him to lie down over her, to press his muscled torso over her breasts and hips andlet her feel all of him. She wanted this desperately, and with an urgency that felt overpowering. And she wondered where this passion had sprung from when she’d already decided they would never make love.
    Yes, she’d been