In The Best Man's Bed. Catherine Spencer

not everything, she thought, swinging her gaze back just in time to see Ethan Beaumont dive into the pool so cleanly that he barely caused a ripple, but I can see why his son might think so. The man is frighteningly competent.

      He surfaced next to her, his hair seal-dark against his skull and water streaming down his torso in sparkling rivulets. “Lesson number one,” he said. “Learn to be comfortable with your face submerged.”

      “It’ll never happen,” she said flatly. “At least, not with me.”

      “That’s what Adrian said, in the beginning. But he soon changed his mind.” He looked at her inquiringly. “Have you met my son?”

      “Not formally. I’d hoped to meet him last night, but by the time we’d finished dinner, it was past his bedtime.”

      “Then allow me to introduce you now.” He extended his arm for the child to grasp. “This is Adrian, who just turned five.”

      “Hello, Adrian.” She smiled at him. He was a beautiful child, black haired like his father and with huge dark brown eyes fringed in long black lashes. “I’m Anne-Marie.”

      He smiled back, but Ethan frowned disapprovingly. “I prefer that he call you Mademoiselle.”

      It was on the tip of her tongue to tell him she didn’t care what he preferred, but decided it was something better said when they didn’t have an audience. So, keeping her smile in place even though doing so made her face ache, she said, “I should be getting back to my quarters. Solange is surely awake by now, and wondering where I am.”

      “No hurry,” he said, clamping his free hand around her wrist. “I sent a message for her to join us for breakfast on the terrace. She should be here any moment. We’ll make use of the time until she arrives, and start your swimming lesson. Now, to begin—”

      “I’m sure you mean well, Ethan,” she said, taking private delight in the way his mouth tightened at the familiarity, “but just as you have your preferences, so do I have mine. And I prefer not to take advantage of your offer, especially not if it means leaving your son to his own devices when he’s clearly expecting to spend this time with you.”

      He released her just long enough to boost Adrian onto the pool deck and murmur something in his ear which sent the boy scooting over to a canopied stall loaded with towels and swimming paraphernalia. Then, turning his attention back to her, he said implacably, “Adrian doesn’t mind waiting a few minutes. So, to begin, I’ll fit you with a face mask. That way, you’ll be able to see under water without discomfort to your eyes.”

      “I don’t want a face mask. I don’t want a lesson. How much more plainly do I have to put it?”

      “You’re afraid.”

      “Yes, I’m afraid. Is that all right with you?”

      “No, it isn’t. As long as you’re cavorting in pools on my property, I’m responsible for your well-being. I could ensure it by forbidding you to use them, but in this climate they’re less a luxury than a necessity. So for your own comfort and my peace of mind, I must insist you allow me to teach you the rudiments of water safety.” He paused and surveyed her mockingly. “If a five-year-old can master them, surely a woman your age can at least try to do likewise?”

      For a moment, she glared at him without replying, but already the heat was intense and she knew that, as the day progressed and the sun climbed higher in the cloudless sky, it would only get worse. So when it became obvious he wasn’t about to accept silence as an answer, she said grudgingly, “Much though I loathe to admit it, it’s possible you’re right. On all counts.”

      He selected one of the two masks Adrian had dropped on the side of the pool, declared with irritating superiority, “Of course I am, so let’s get on with it,” then proceeded to clamp the wretched contraption snugly over her face, and adjust the strap holding it in place. “How does that feel?”

      “Fine, I suppose,” she said, vibrantly conscious of his touch and the proximity of their near-naked bodies. Although harmless enough on the surface, there was something implicitly intimate about the situation.

      “Excellent!” Quickly, he slipped on the other mask, and taking her by both hands, backed away from the steps.

      Instantly, the fear grabbed at her. “Don’t pull me into deep water!” she begged, resisting him.

      “Relax, Mademoiselle! All we’re going to do is remain perfectly still and look at the bottom of the pool, like so….” He took a breath, lowered his face into the water, blew out a stream of bubbles, then raised his head. “Very simple, very safe, yes?”

      “You make it look easy.”

      “Because it is. Try it and see for yourself.”

      Cautiously, she followed his instructions and surprised herself. It wasn’t nearly as terrifying or alien an experience as she’d expected. The tiles on the bottom of the pool glimmered in the sun-shot blue light. By turning her head slightly, she could see the steps in the corner, a reassuring sight. And when she felt herself running short of air, she simply lifted her face and filled her lungs with a fresh supply.

      “I can’t believe I’m able to do this!” she said, absurdly pleased with her small accomplishment.

      “But you are, and very well, too.” Without warning, he tugged her off her feet. “So now we progress to the next level and float.”

      “Ahh!” She let out a little yelp of fright as, powerless in his hold, she found herself traveling even farther away from the steps.

      But he wouldn’t let fear get the better of her. “Concentrate,” he ordered, his voice low and hypnotic as he towed her effortlessly alongside him. “Remember—lift and breathe, lower and blow.”

      She did, becoming so engrossed in following his directions that she didn’t notice how far they’d traveled until a shadow fell across the water and, looking up, she found herself under the diving board at the deep end of the pool. Again, the familiar panic rose up, and again, before it got the better of her, he tightened his hold and said soothingly, “You’re perfectly safe, Mademoiselle. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

      “I believe you,” she panted, and the amazing thing was, she did. A total stranger had lured her far out of her depth and into dangerous territory, and for some insane reason, she trusted him implicitly. Not for years, not since she was a little girl, had she known such a sense of security, and she rather liked it.

      Her voice must have betrayed something of what she was feeling because he pushed up his face mask and, for the first time since they’d met, he smiled. The problem then was not that she’d forget to breathe properly with her face in the water, but that she’d forget to breathe at all. Because his smile transformed him and he became not merely handsome, but truly gorgeous. Flawless in every detail, from his dazzling white and perfect teeth to the brilliant azure of his eyes. And she, fleetingly paralyzed by the moment, could only gaze in spellbound admiration.

      Slowly, he disentangled his fingers from hers, as if he were as reluctant to release her as she was to have him let go. “One more thing, and then it’s Adrian’s turn,” he said, giving her slight push. “Swim to the ladder over there, under your own steam.” Then, before she could give voice to the protest rising in her throat, he added. “It’s either that or make your way back to the shallow end which is five times the distance away.”

      Did pride give her the courage to do as he asked, or was winning his respect what motivated her? That she hardly knew how to answer the question disturbed her. What he thought of her shouldn’t matter. And yet, it did. Rather more than she cared to admit.

      Heart pounding, she breast-stroked to the ladder, grasped the lowest rung and pushed off her mask. Then, aware of his gaze focused on every inch of her as she climbed out of the water, she hoisted herself onto the pool deck, resisted the impulse to check that her bikini remained in place, and said, “Thank you for the lesson.”

      Then,