Summer Is for Lovers (15 page)

The machine’s forward momentum stopped, and the sounds of the horses being unhitched reached her ears. Cold water lapped around her bare waist, sending chill bumps along her arms. She could see why the attendant had mentioned difficulties. Every so often a large wave smashed against the wooden frame, setting her pulse pounding and the house rocking.

How did Duffington’s mother consider this pastime pleasurable? She tried to imagine a countess enjoying her time in such a depressing, fetid space. What, pray tell, was so fashionable about sitting in the dark, waiting for a rogue wave to smash one’s shelter to bits?

There had to be a more enjoyable way to go about attracting a suitor. And yet, wasn’t she trying her best? Duffington was the son of an
earl
, for heaven’s sake. Rebuffing him was not an option.

Caroline stared at the door in front of her as another wave rocked the machine. This wasn’t where she wanted to be, and neither Duffington nor any of the other gentlemen waiting on the beach were whom she wanted to be with.

At that moment, the front door of the bathing machine gave a mighty rattle. She blinked, wondering if a wave had damaged the bolt somehow. But then the sound of creaking hinges assaulted her ears, and she realized with horror that the door was swinging open.

Caroline’s eyes jerked against the bright spear of sunlight that breached the small, wet interior. A dark shape, backlit by the sun, stood in the open doorway. The danger of her situation sent her arms flying up to cover her bare chest. Surely Duffington hadn’t been serious about swimming with her—she might not have paid proper attention to the attendant, but she was
quite
sure this was not part of the intended experience.

The shadow shifted sideways to fit through the narrow opening, and Caroline filled her lungs in a desperate whoosh, preparing to let loose a scream. She had a sudden sense of wet linen sleeves and muscular arms. Straw-colored hair that threw off droplets of water as the man loomed ever closer.

And then her breath was cut off as David Cameron’s hand covered her mouth.

Chapter 19

D
AVID HAD IMAGINED
Caroline would be sitting in the bathing machine, gritting her teeth against the uselessness of the endeavor. Even from his distant vantage point along the Marine Parade, there had been no mistaking the tense line of her shoulders as she had climbed up inside.

But no matter how he had imagined her mood, he had thought she would be clothed.

He was now being punished for his naïveté.

David spun her around, keeping his right hand over Caroline’s mouth even as her curved backside made excruciating contact with the front of his saltwater-soaked trousers. In this manner, at least, he could no longer see the bare skin that had greeted his eyes like the stiff drink he hadn’t known he needed.

But unfortunately, he could still
feel
her ocean-slicked body, and he had a fearsome imagination to fill in the visual gaps. He was quite sure something approximating a breast writhed dangerously close to his left hand.

His cock, which had protested the cold shock of water only moments before, stirred to vigorous life.

A strong wave rocked the entire structure, knocking them both off balance. As she was tossed against him, he was stung by the precariousness of their situation as much as her lack of clothing. He had risked both their reputations to come here, but the sudden appearance of all those suitors had quite smashed all resolve to behave with honor.

Then again, was there anything of honor in him?

David drew in a deep draught of air that had the misfortune of being laced with her unique scent: salt and vanilla, scented bath soap and humid ocean air. As if in response, Caroline pushed a muffled stream of words between his fingers.

“Shh.” He leaned in close to her ear, inhaling her heady scent and trying in vain to keep her from rocking
that
part of her anatomy against
that
part of his. “Are you trying to get yourself ruined?”

In answer, her teeth closed around his fingers. That, finally, made David jerk his hands away.

She lunged forward, giving him a lung-piercing view of her backside as she reached high to snatch something down from a shelf. He had two seconds’ time to register that her freckles extended across the whole of her body, and then she pulled on a shapeless gray garment that swiftly and regrettably covered her like a blanket.

As she whirled to face him, he blinked, trying to chase the last fantastical image of her bare arse with a good dose of hard-edged reality.

Damn, but that robe was hideous.

“Are you deranged?” Her voice ricocheted off the peaked rafters, two shades below panicked.

David raised his still-smarting finger to his lips, pantomiming the need for silence. “If you rouse the hue and cry and force our discovery, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself.”

She fell silent and pulled the robe closer around her. “Could anyone have seen you?” she finally whispered.

He shook his head, sending sprays of water pelting the walls. “I entered the ocean from the men’s beach east of the pier, and swam under water the last bit.” He grinned at her. “My best swimming stroke, as it turns out. Perhaps I ought to use
that
on Monday.”

She seemed to shove that around in her head a moment before giving voice to the question that haunted them both. “What are you doing here, David?”

“I . . .” He paused, searching his brain.

What
was
he doing here? He still wasn’t sure what had prompted him do this. To understand if she still intended to teach him her swimming stroke? To demand if she was seriously entertaining ideas of a romantic nature about one of the swaggering bucks who had trailed her all morning? Her sudden and startling popularity had made it deucedly hard to find the private moment either of those conversations demanded.

Her eyes smoldered across the heated space. “You went to a good deal of trouble to just stand there mute.”

He tried to think of something—
anything
—that would make sense. “I . . . I signed up for the race this morning, and I still need your help to win.”

A sharp burst of laughter escaped her lips. “You expect me to continue to instruct you, after . . . after last night?”

“Yes. I mean, no. I do not
expect
it. I would hope you would want to continue.”

Her pointed chin came up in synchronized harmony with her brows. “You risked my reputation for that? Honestly, David, you could have just sent a note. Last night, you pointed out why you were not a suitable match for me, and in fact, encouraged me to dance with other gentlemen. And yet you have shown up here, uninvited, threatening to destroy the interest of others who might make an offer.”

David was chastened. He was also enthralled by the way that flannel robe rose and fell with her every breath, as if it wanted to slide off her.

As if it wanted
him
to slide it off her.

But damned if she wasn’t right. Last night he had reacted poorly to her shiny, polished view of him and the avalanche of self-loathing her words had triggered. He had focused on his own feelings instead of Caroline’s. That was not fair.

He would make it right now.

“Then let me apologize again. Do not let last night’s discussion change the nature of our friendship. I still intend to compete in Monday’s race, and I would very much like to continue our planned instruction.”

“Do you think it is wise to spend so much time alone together, after all that has passed between us?” she asked, catching her lower lip between her teeth in an innocent gesture that, regrettably, made his cock stiffen with renewed interest.

“Probably not,” he admitted.

She tensed beneath that heavy robe, and he could not blame her. He had, after all, given her good reason to fear for her virtue, bursting into the little bathing machine without even first stopping to check that she was clothed.

“But if you will do this for me, if you will see our lessons through, I promise to behave honorably,” he added. “To keep our interactions strictly impersonal. You have nothing to fear by continuing your instruction. I give you my word.”

D
AMN
D
AVID
C
AMERON
and his gilded tongue and devilish grin.

One word, one rakish smile, and the sliver of hope that Caroline had forced herself to bury last night had already begun to work its way back toward the surface.

No matter his monkish stance, no matter his patent denials from last night, he was not immune to her. The hard, defined length of his arousal had just been pressed against her bare back, for heaven’s sake. He could deny his interest all he wanted, but he could not hide it.

Last night, on the dance floor, David had instructed her on what to look for in a dance partner, claiming his unsolicited tutoring was fair turnabout in exchange for her swimming instructions. That memory breathed new life into what was probably a foolish idea. Caroline lifted her eyes to meet the intense blue gaze that hovered a mere two feet away.

She might not be able to capture David Cameron’s heart, but mayhap she had set her sights too high.

“I
might
be willing to continue your swimming instruction,” she told him, her stomach churning. “Given the right incentive.”

He did not even hesitate. “I would gladly give you the entire purse, if you wanted.”

She shook her head, although the generous offer surprised her, given his admitted need of the prize money. “You misunderstand me. Splitting the purse, should you win it, is more than fair. But there is no guarantee you will win, and that might leave me without recompense.”

His jaw tensed. “What do you suggest as payment?”

The suspicion in his voice near dragged her under, but Caroline shrugged it off, determined to see this through. She might not have a future with
this
man, but if she had to marry someone else to keep the promise she had made to her father, didn’t she at least deserve a taste of what she was giving up?

“You showed me how much possibility could be found in a kiss, David. I want to learn more, before I marry. And I want to learn it from you.”

He jerked backward as if she had struck him. “If I win this race for us, you’ll have enough money you won’t
need
to marry.”

“I appreciate the gesture, but such a boon would only delay the inevitable. I’ve my sister to support, and my mother as well. I am still bound for marriage, David. And the longer I wait, the poorer my chances.”

His face flushed scarlet. “I cannot offer for you, so do not ask me.”

His words stung, for all that she was now prepared to deal with them. Caroline crossed her arms across her flannel-clad chest and tried to hide her shaking fingers. “As you pointed out last night, we would not suit. I am not seeking an offer of marriage from you.”

And she wasn’t. He had made it quite clear his heart was otherwise engaged. But given that the love of his life had been dead for some eleven years, he could not argue that other pertinent parts of his anatomy were not available.

And though her motives tended toward selfish, she might be able to help him as well. It struck her as a terrible waste that a man capable of such strong feelings had spent eleven years loving someone who could no longer love him back. He seemed unwilling to even consider an alternative to that cycle of mourning, but perhaps he had not found someone who could help him see that his life might be more. Even if he could not see a future with her, Caroline was willing to prove he should at least consider a future with
someone
.

Oblivious to the machinations of her mind, David raked a hand through hair that already stood in a damp, golden tangle. “If not marriage, then what, in the name of all that is holy, are you asking me for?”

Caroline took a deep breath for courage, and flexed her fingers against the suffocating cocoon of her flannel robe. This next bit would require some finesse. “I require only your expertise in matters of a physical nature.”

His eyes narrowed on hers. “That sounds like an indecent sort of proposition.”

“You told me last night you weren’t celibate. That means you grant your favors to other women.” Her stomach churned, whether from the constant, shuddering movement of the bathing machine, or the nature of what she was asking, she couldn’t be sure. “I want you to share some small measure of those favors with me. One friend to another.”

He began to pace in the narrow confines of the bathing machine, although circling might have been more apt description. Two steps carried him from one end of the house to the other. His movements set the timbers of the little house shaking.

“Have you not heard a word I have said?” His words swung wildly, but still found their mark. The honor she sensed lurking beneath David’s skin, the honor he denied he possessed, insinuated itself front and center. “You are more than ‘other’ women to me. You are asking me to ruin you, and then wrap it in a nice bow as if it’s some kind of perverted gift.”

“Don’t I deserve to know what I should be seeking in a husband before I make the wrong choice?” she countered. “And I have not asked you to do anything of the sort. I do not require the whole of the experience. Just enough to properly inform my decision.”

He paused facing away from her, trapped in one narrow corner of the box that seemed to have shrunk about three sizes. She heard him swallow, even over the rush of the ocean. “How much of it?” he rasped.

“Not
all
of it. But more than kissing.” She had already had that from him, and while she was looking forward to repeating the experience, she wanted to know more.

His shoulders tensed beneath the wet fabric of his shirt, and she could see his fists clench and unclench. “You do not know what you are asking of me.”

“I do.” And she believed, with every fiber of her being, that he was the only man who could accomplish it. “I want this, David.”

“You want the experience.” He swung around to face her. “It does not have to come from me.”

Caroline studied him, frustration shaking her with sharp teeth. She did not want to marry someone like Branson or Duffington without first exploring the sort of emotion that made her heart spin on its axis. “Are you suggesting I should ask someone else to show me? Mr. Branson, perhaps?”

He took a heated step toward her, his eyes flashing. “God, no. Do not even consider taking such a careless risk to your reputation.”

Her knees locked at his terse reminder. He was right—she was skirting ruin here, and not just in the physical sense. She considered what had happened as a result of her single, ill-considered experience with Mr. Dermott . . . and
that
had been nothing more than a kiss. If someone found out about this, her reputation, fragile thing that it was, would be shattered. She did not want to disappoint her family, just to find some narrow piece of happiness.

But she also wanted a memory that would buffer her through the increasing likelihood of a cold, loveless marriage. And she wanted that memory to be shaped by David Cameron.

Despite his claims to the contrary, there was honor in this man. She trusted David to preserve her reputation. Who better to protect her than a man so determined not to ruin her?

And who better than she to show him what potential lurked in his heart?

Caroline shook free the misgivings that sat heavy on her shoulders. “I do not want to ask another man to show me this, David. I want it to be you, precisely because I know my reputation is safe with you.”

And then, before he could lodge another protest, before he could shove her, once again, into the realm of mere friendship, she stepped forward and kissed him.

D
AVID FOUND HIMSELF
knocked off balance, this time by Caroline herself. The impact of her body and their wild tumble against the salt-slicked wall left him so stunned that for a moment he wondered if she had hit him with something more solid than just her frame.

Not that he wouldn’t deserve it.