So when I see that she is fully prepared to dive in, I kick back and watch with a grin on my face.
She glares.
She jumps.
She splashes, though not quite as impressive as I had.
Then—nothing.
She’s pranking me, right? That’s what this is. She’s trying to get back at me for earlier.
Nice try, Beth. That’s not going to work.
I’m wading and watching but then three seconds go by, then six, and she still hasn’t surfaced. All I can see of her is a dark cloud of hair floating near the bottom of the pool.
“Oh, bloody hell.”
My body is beginning to react to the temperature, stiffening up and going numb at the tips of my fingers and toes, but I dive under anyway. Even I know that I won’t be able to bribe my way out of a dead body in my pool. Besides, she really doesn’t deserve it.
She’s actually been a good sport for the most part. My solar plexus cramps just as I reach her, and I double over, barely brushing her elbow with my fingers.
Power through it, man. Power through!
I force myself beneath her and make a break for the surface. The pool isn’t very deep, only eight feet at the end, but it feels like a kilometer at least. I struggle to the edge, dragging her with me. As soon as her face breaks the surface, she inhales in a sort of reverse scream.
“All right, all right, no need to get hysterical,” I say through chattering teeth. I slosh her out onto the patio and pull myself up beside her, feeling ancient and broken.
The sun is deceptively bright as a cold breeze slices through me. Beth is curled up in a shivering ball, coughing and crying. A feeling I don’t much like. I’ve got very little experience with the wriggling sensations in my gut.
“Well get up then,” I say irritably. “You want an apology? I’m sorry you fell for it, how’s that?”
The shock on her face is as palpable as a slap. I look away.
“You’re a monster.” Her voice is shaking, but I can’t tell if it’s from the cold or the fury.
“A monster would make you walk home like that,” I snap. “Get inside. I’ll boost the fire.”
“To cook me in?”
I scowl at her. She shakes her head and stands up, still shivering from head to toe. Her cheap underthings have gone translucent, clinging to her hardened nipples and trimmed, er…trim. She is surprisingly easy to look at. Had I been warmer or in a better mood, I would probably look a little more intently. Even so, she catches me staring and flushes bright red before turning on her heel and storming towards the door.
“Are you coming?”
“Right away, dear,” I say sarcastically.
She doesn’t bother to respond to that. I follow her in, appreciating the way her perfectly round ass bounces around. I’ve never noticed it before, but why should I have? She’s never made a point to display it. Even now, mostly naked, she isn’t doing anything to accentuate her assets. It irritates me. Doesn’t she care if I’m interested?
I flip the switch on the fireplace as I pass it. She stands in the center of the room, dripping and shivering.
“I’ll get you a towel,” I mutter, rolling my eyes. “Get out of those and put them in the bathroom.”
“I’m not getting naked in front of you.”
“Wake up, sweetheart. You already are.”
She flushes and looks down at herself, then crosses her arms over her breasts.
A pity.
I shrug and go to grab the towels. I leave my own wet clothes in the bathroom and wrap a towel around my waist. If she can nonchalantly tease, so can I. I shimmy the towel a little lower on my hips, low enough to put irresistible images in her head. She said she was in it for the money. It’s time to test that theory.
She isn’t in the living room when I return.
“Beth?”
No answer.
“Come on,” I laugh. “You don’t expect me to believe you left in your skivvies, do you?”
“In the bathroom,” she snaps.
I follow her voice and knock on the door. “I have your towel.”
“There are towels in here.”
“Mine’s better.” I smirk. “Mine is always better.”
She sighs sharply. I grin. I’m getting under her skin. I can feel it.
“Are you going to spend the rest of the day in there? It’s much more comfortable out here.”
“It’s dangerous out there,” she says shakily.
Ah, so I am getting to her. I’m sure she’s afraid she won’t be able to resist me.
I am yet to meet a woman who could resist me once I set my mind on having them. Of course, I have no intention of seducing Beth; she’s pretty enough, but she doesn’t deserve me. Not with that attitude. Or that upbringing—poverty isn’t a good look. But she is bloody infuriating, and I intend to return the favor.
“I’ll be gentle,” I say, filling my tone with all sorts of raunchy suggestions to get her blood boiling and her towel wet.
She’s silent for a beat before the door flies open.
Excellent. She can’t wait to get her hands on me. I grin at her, but my grin falters the moment I see her face. She doesn’t look demure or shy or even a little bit flirtatious.
She doesn’t look the slightest bit horny. Her eyes blaze, her teeth glisten in a grimace, and her tense body is wrapped in layers of terrycloth. She’s managed to turn a stack of towels into impenetrable armor which effectively hides her shape and hair, leaving nothing but that furious face free for the looking.
“You pig!” she shouts.
“Er—sorry?”
“You almost killed me! Twice! You almost disfigured me! I have barely survived a single day as your fiancé, and we weren’t even engaged for most of it! No amount of money is worth this.” She slams the door again, hard enough to make the art shake on the walls.
“Oh come on, you’re being ridiculous.”
“Fuck you!” Her words rip through the door like wild bears.
Hm. This is a conundrum. All thoughts of seducing her storm out of my head. Apparently, now isn’t the time for that. It’s time for damage control.
“Look, I’m sorry. But you passed the test!”
The silence stretches out for a long beat.
“What test?”
I grin. I forgot that she’s an egghead. Appealing to her sense of adventure or femininity wasn’t the way to go—I have to appeal to her sense of over-achievement.
“The test to see if you would actually be able to stick this out,” I say casually.
“You passed with flying colors. Perfect scores all around. You keep that up and I’ll be able to keep doing what I want to do, you’ll provide the alibies and honest face, and we’ll both come out ahead.”
I lean against the wall, smug in my inevitable success. But then she starts laughing. Not a joyous laugh, which would have been understandable, but a high, thin, mocking sort of laugh. I frown.
“What the hell is so funny?”
She opens the door again, theatrically wiping her eyes.
“You think I’m here to provide you with an alibi?” The corners of her lips are turned down into a look of disgust.
She has me off-guard and I don’t like it.
“Of course you are. What else do you think I’m paying you for?”