Spirit Of Atlantis. Anne MatherЧитать онлайн книгу.

       CHAPTER THREE

      JULIE DID NOT go down to the lake to swim again for almost a week. It was foolish because she had no reason to suppose that Dan Prescott might be there, but a necessary interval seemed called for, and she contented herself with going out with Brad in his dinghy, or taking the controls of his father’s power boat so that he could water-ski. He was quite good at it, but although Julie tried, she persistently lost her balance and ended up choking for breath in the power-boat’s wake.

      Eventually, however, common-sense overrode her nervousness, and she returned to her early morning pastime. Dan Prescott had not come back to the hotel, and although she had succeeded in evading Pam’s more personal questions about what had happened between them that night, her continued abstinence was provoking comment. So she began to make her regular morning trek to the cove, and after three days of solitude she began to believe she would never see him again.

      Then, on the fourth morning, he appeared.

      Julie was already in the water, swimming vigorously across the mouth of the inlet, when she saw the tall figure standing motionless on the rocks. As before, he was dressed in denim jeans and shirt, and even as she watched, he peeled off his shirt and tossed it on to the rocks. She turned quickly away before he unbuckled the belt of his pants. She had no desire to see him naked, and the awareness that he was coming into the water with her filled her with trembling anticipation.

      There was no way she could get out without passing him. Around the mouth of the inlet there were currents she wasn’t familiar with, and besides, it was a good half mile round and into the next cove where David had built his marina. She was trapped, and he knew it. No doubt he had planned it this way deliberately. And she despised him for it.

      She heard the splash as he entered the water and permitted herself a backward glance. He was nowhere in sight, probably swimming underwater, she thought apprehensively, and then almost lost her breath when he surfaced right beside her.

      ‘Hi!’

      Julie drew a trembling breath. ‘Don’t you ever give up?’

      ‘It’s a free country, isn’t it?’ His eyes mocked her. ‘Or are you going to tell me the land is private?’

      ‘I know your uncle owns it, if that’s what you mean,’ Julie retorted, pushing back her hair with an unsteady hand. ‘Enjoy your swim. You’ll be happy to know you’ve spoilt mine!’

      The word he said was not polite, and his hands reached for her before she could defend herself, pulling her down into the water until her nasal tubes were blocked and she thought her lungs were going to burst. Then he let her go, allowing her to float up to the surface, gulping desperately for breath as he came up behind her.

      ‘That—that was a rotten thing to do,’ she got out, when she could speak again, and he made no attempt to deny it. ‘I could have drowned!’

      He seemed to consider her protest for a few seconds and then he shook his head. ‘I don’t think I could have allowed that,’ he remarked, in all seriousness. ‘Great though the temptation might be.’

      Julie pursed her lips. ‘You enjoy making fun of me, don’t you?’

      ‘I enjoy—you,’ he said, slowly and deliberately so that her whole body seemed suffused with heat, in spite of the coldness of the water. ‘Or rather I would—if you’d let me.’

      There was a brief pause while Julie’s green eyes stared in troubled fascination into his, and then with panic quickening her limbs she struck out blindly for the shore. It was useless, she told herself, she could not have an ordinary conversation with him. He persisted in turning every innocent remark into something personal, and her inexperience in these matters made her an easy target. She should have known he would not let her be. He was a predator, and right now she was his prey. And like all hunters, the harder the chase, the more satisfying the kill.

      Her feet found the stony lake shore, and she waded up out of the water on slightly wobbly legs. The exertion had been all the more tiring because of her awareness of him behind her, and the fear that at any moment he might grab her flailing feet. However, she made it unscathed, though as she groped for her towel she heard him emerge from the water behind her.

      Squeezing the excess moisture from her hair, she tried to ignore him, but he walked across the shingle and sprawled lazily on a flat rock. Almost compulsively, her eyes were drawn to him, and his lips curved in amusement at that involuntary appraisal. It was obvious from the apprehensiveness of her darting glance that she had expected the worst, but to her relief she saw he was wearing thin navy shorts, and although they left little to her imagination, he was decently covered.

      ‘You didn’t really think I’d do that, did you?’ he enquired, propping himself up on one elbow and regarding her bikini-clad figure quizzically.

      ‘Do what?’ Julie was evasive, towelling her hair with more effort than skill, wondering if she could wriggle into her shorts without making a spectacle of herself.

      ‘Swim in the raw,’ Dan answered bluntly, knowing full well she was not unaware of his meaning. ‘I wouldn’t want to embarrass you a second time.’

      ‘You didn’t embarrass me, Mr Prescott,’ Julie retorted, not altogether truthfully, deciding the shorts would have to wait until she had gained the privacy of the trees. ‘Goodbye!’

      ‘Julie …’ With a lithe movement, he sprang off the rocks and caught her arm as she bent to pick up her belongings. ‘Julie, don’t go. Look, I’m sorry if I’ve offended you, but for heaven’s sake, what’s a guy got to do to make it with you?’

      Julie gathered her towel and shorts to her chest almost as if they were a shield, and avoided looking up at him. ‘Mr Prescott, I don’t know the kind of girls you are used to associating with, but men don’t—make it with me, as you so crudely put it. Just because you’re apparently accustomed to every girl you meet falling flat on her face when you show an interest in them, don’t—’

      ‘Why not flat on their backs?’ he interrupted her harshly. ‘That would facilitate matters, wouldn’t it?’ and her breathing quickened to a suffocating pace.

      ‘As I said, you’re—’

      ‘Forget it!’ he snapped. ‘I don’t know why I came here.’

      ‘Because you can’t bear to think you’re not irresistible!’ Julie retorted recklessly, and then quivered uncontrollably as he tore the towel and shorts from her fingers and jerked her towards him.

      When he bent his head towards her, she had no hope of avoiding him and although she turned her head from side to side, he found her mouth with unerring accuracy, fastening his lips to hers and taking his fill of her honeyed softness. His damp body was an aggressive barrier to any escape she might attempt to make, and try as she might, she could not prevent the awareness of her breasts hardening against the forceful expanse of his chest.

      It was impossible, too, to prevent him from parting her lips. Choking for breath, she gulped for air against his mouth, but the invasion of his lips robbed her of all opposition. He was devouring her, hungrily teaching her the meaning of the adult emotions he was arousing, and as her lips began to kiss him back, the pressure eased to a paralysing sweetness. His hands released her arms to slide across her back, and her legs trembled as he pressed her body into his. She could feel him with every nerve and sinew of her being, and the growing awareness of what was happening to him made her acutely aware of the fragile barrier between herself and his thrusting masculinity.

      He released her mouth to seek the hollow behind her ear, kissing her earlobe and her neck, brushing her hair aside to stroke the sensitive curve of her nape with his tongue. Julie knew she ought to draw back, that this was her opportunity to get away from him, but she was consumed by the urgency of her own emotions,