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“I don’t know!” Embarrassment tinged her words.

“Keep your head in there if you don’t want to see any more,” I told her, pulling on my underwear. I could have sworn I heard her mutter something from the tent as I reached for my T-shirt and pulled it on. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“What do you need a hand with?”

“I can’t quite get the zip of the wet suit down.” That particular wet suit had a ribbon of material tied to the zip, but half of it had snapped off when she was getting it on, making it difficult to tackle solo, what with the zip being at the back.

“Hold on,” I said, quickly getting my jumper and joggers on. I moved over to the tent and fully unzipped it, getting inside with her. There wasn’t enough room to stand straight, so we were both stooped in there. “Kneel down,” I told her, and she turned and kneeled in front of me. I got onto my knees behind her to grasp her left shoulder and tug at the zipper with my other hand. Nisa was holding her hair out of the way in her right hand, having taken off her hat. The left line of her neck was exposed, and the sudden urge to lean down and gently bite her welled up inside me, making me pause and actually consider it for the briefest of moments before I shook my head and continued to deal with her zip. What the hell was wrong with me?

I got the zip about halfway down in a few juddering movements. The thing was getting pretty stiff after a few years. It had belonged to an old girlfriend I’d bought it for years back. Probably time to throw it out. I leaned closer, trying to get some purchase on it for the next tug. The exposed skin on her upper back glistened invitingly with beads of water, and in this close proximity my breath hit her skin, causing an eruption of goose bumps. My breath quickened and my skin felt hot, as if it was humming with my pulse. What would those goose bumps feel like under my tongue?

Suppressing my newfound animalistic urges, I tugged the zip lower, allowing my knuckles to brush her swimsuit-​covered back on the descent, because turns out, I don’t have that much willpower. My fingers practically burned at the contact.

More goose bumps erupted across her shoulders as the wet suit gaped at the top, exposing more skin, and a flush of warmth flooded my loins. Okay. I had failed to anticipate that helping Nisa with the zip was going to turn into something this sensual. I cleared my throat, rocking back on my heels and tugging at the front of my joggers to hide my arousal before she turned her head and saw. “All done. I’ll head out while you finish up.”

She didn’t say anything as I left the tent and zipped it, taking a big breath of cold, fresh air. I hoped to Christ that she felt an iota of the attraction that was dragging at my very bones whenever I was around her.

I busied myself getting on warm socks and trainers, followed by a dry robe, and then dug around in my rucksack for my thermos and two mugs.

Nisa emerged a few minutes later, just as I was placing a blanket on the sand for us to sit on. I beckoned her over, watching her come toward me in her leggings, which clung temptingly to the soft lines of her thighs, and her oversized sweatshirt that hung in a baggy and adorable way off her torso. Her bobble hat was back on. I placed a dry robe around her, trying to keep my traitorous fingers from starting toward her skin again, and then took a seat on the blanket where she joined me as I poured us a couple of mugs of coffee.

“Verdict?” I asked her as I blew on my hot coffee.

“Loved it,” she said, meeting my gaze with a bolt of lightning into my core. Her eyes were calm and still. Like dark waters at sunset.

“I’m glad,” I told her, smiling as I took a sip. The first coffee of the morning, especially post–cold water swim, was extra delicious.

“Sorry that I was a bit . . . vocal, to start with. About the cold.” She winced.

I chuckled. “No problem.” I darted my gaze onto her face, noting the relaxed, open expression. The way her eyes were a little hazy with contentment. “I like how expressive you are.” I paused, thinking for a sec. “Kind of envious of it, actually.”

Her eyes widened, as if she was not expecting me to say that. “Really?”

I nodded, maintaining eye contact.

“That is . . . so lovely of you to say,” she said, slowly, and I got the distinct impression that nobody had ever said that to her before.

She blushed, looking away over the water. “You were right about it being soothing,” she said, holding her mug tightly in both hands. “I feel all . . . calm and clearheaded. And I don’t think I’ve felt clearheaded in days. Maybe weeks.” She paused. “Or even months.”

“You’ve had a lot going on,” I told her, earning myself one of her grateful smiles. “How is Aisha, by the way?” Nisa had texted the previous evening to tell me that her sister got home after her IV infusion.

“All good. Seb is running around after her like the princess she is.” The smile on her face was warm, indicating that she was happy about her sister being treated with reverence. The way that she herself deserves to be treated. Drew was a prick. If this woman was mine, I would worship the ground she walked on.

“And your mum?” I asked, a pointed tone in my voice.

She winced. “Still being short with me.”

I suppressed a sigh. How on earth could her mother punish her for her sister being unwell? It was madness. “What’s the deal with her?” I didn’t mean to sound blunt, but when I was bothered by something I tended to get straight to the point with no sugarcoating.

But she didn’t seem to mind. “She and my dad were pretty traumatized when Aisha got sick. They didn’t deal with it that well and I ended up kind of becoming the third adult in the house, helping take care of Aisha.”

My blood ran cold. “How old were you?”

Her throat bobbed. “Nine.”

“Nine? And what did they expect you to do?”