Page 23 of Worth the Try
“Ready!”
I push off, raising my arms just like Rosie, not bothering to stop the huge grin or giggle that comes out of me as I go down the slide and into the pool.
The water is perfect, a little warm on top and getting cooler as I descend, letting myself fall so my toes touch the bottom before bending my knees and pushing off. I break the surface to the sound of Rosie’s cheers, then wipe my eyes and tread water.
Why in the world have I denied myself this amazing pool for two weeks?
“Isn’t itfun?” Rosie asks, kicking to close the distance.
We spend the next hour in the pool, playing Marco Polo and sliding and racing and splashing. Finally, I haul myself onto the giant He-Man float to judge Rosalie on the different faces she can make while jumping into the deep end.
“What’s going on out here?” The deep voice startles me, and I jerk my head around, shielding my eyes from the brutal sun to see Ansel standing just off the edge of the pool. He’s smiling down at his daughter. “Have you been in here all day? Are you a prune yet?”
“No,” she giggles. “Come swim, Daddy!”
He tilts his head in the direction of the kitchen. “I need to start dinner.”
And it has to be the heat that’s addled my brain, because before I know what’s happening, I’m opening my mouth and saying, “We can wait. Come on in—the water feels amazing!”
He turns his attention to me, his eyes narrowing as they travel the length of my body.
My breath catches. Was it wrong of me to say that? Should I have worn a one-piece? Is he mad that I’m on his float?
Then our gazes collide, and I stop breathing. His eyes are dark, darker than I’ve ever seen them, and it warms every part of me.
He’s definitely not mad.
I swallow and wet my lips, and his attention dips to watch the movement before darting back to his daughter.
Whoa.
“You sure you want your old daddy in there with you? I’m stinky.”
I doubt that very much, but I keep my mouth shut. I’m practically hyperventilating at this point, wondering what’s about to happen.
When Rosie answers in the affirmative, he nods and goes inside.
I try to breathe. To remind myself that I’m only the nanny, and that this is not a big deal. That the look he gave me wasn’t filled with…well, that it was just a look.
I slide off the float, needing the water to cool down my overheated body. And I stay there, hoping that maybe he isn’t coming. That maybe he’ll simply choose to start cooking dinner. Dinner that I stupidly agreed to join him for.
Them.Jointhemfor.
But it seems that luck is not on my side, as moments later, he emerges.
And I can’t take it. Can’t take how devastating he is. I simply cannot. So, like the perfectly mature thirty-year-old I am, I duck under the surface before I can get a good look and push off, swimming underwater from the shallow end to the deep. I go until I feel the wall against my palm, and even then, I consider turning and swimming back. Unfortunately for me, my lungs aren’t even remotely suited for that kind of thing, and I pop up, resolutely turned away from Ansel and his muscles.
I know I’m being ridiculous. But I can’t stop my body from reacting to his, and it’s embarrassing. I’m too old to act like this, yet my hormones absolutely refuse to agree with me. I exhale and steel myself. There’s nothing to do but face it. Facehim.
Suddenly, a shadow appears on my right and Ansel surfaces not even a foot from me, grabbing the edge with one hand and wiping the water from his eyes with the other.
And I…am transfixed.
Light bounces off the flurry of waves around us, reflecting onto his tanned skin and dragging my attention to the way every muscle on his arm seems to bunch and ripple as he moves. Water sluices off his hair, drawing my attention to his corded neck. His collarbones. The dusting of hair that dips below the surface.
He is unfair.
Entirely, completely, wholeheartedly unfair.
