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She’d done it unconsciously. Deep down, she knew it was a mistake, the temptation Gavin represented. Besides, he wouldn’t do anything. He was not the type to throw away all boundaries and pursue her, was he?
Frowning, she opened her bedroom door and entered the room, closing the door quietly behind her. She knew nothing about him, not really. She’d Googled him and discovered there wasn’t much to know. He was a workaholic who’d climbed the ranks of his law firm quickly. He was the son of…no one she could find. No mention of his past, no mention of a family and definitely no mention of a girlfriend or wife.
He was married to his work. His office was his mistress. She knew what those types of men were like. All three of her brothers were that way. Once upon a time, she had been too.
Not bothering to turn on the light, she made her way to the window and sat on the ledge, staring down at the pool. It was lit, the water a bright, beckoning blue. Warm air drifted over her, heating her skin. She had the sudden urge to swim. To strip off her clothes and jump in naked, the water sliding over her skin like a caress, relaxing her, cooling her heated thoughts and skin.
Grabbing a towel from the connecting bathroom, she made her way back into the kitchen and dining area, saw that it was blessedly empty. Gavin must’ve gone back to the tower, which was just as well. She couldn’t let him see what she was about to do.
Quietly she opened the French door and just as quietly shut it behind her. Her footsteps light, she made her way to the pool, nibbling her lower lip as she stopped at the very edge. In the far distance she could hear the ocean waves lapping at the shore, the sound of boats knocking against each other, the occasional distant drift of voices. People were still on the beach, most likely illicit meetings that involved bodies wound around each other, lips pressed tight.
She envied their wicked interludes, the idea of naked skin bathed in moonlight, filled with wild abandonment on an empty beach. To be so carefree…
Without thought, she shed her dress, let it drop to the ground with a kick of her feet. The air embraced her, brushed over nude body much like a lover’s touch, her nipples hardening to painful points. With a sigh she stepped out of her panties, left them in a crumpled heap on top of her dress. Renzo had already left for the evening, so he wouldn’t see her, thank goodness.
She dove into the pool with hardly a splash.
Staying beneath the water, she swam, stretching her muscles, enjoying the sensation of good old-fashioned exercise. Back and forth she swam across the pool, going faster, her breaths becoming labored, her muscles starting to protest painfully with every lap she accomplished. The pool was small, her strokes were simple, but it was enough to push her past her limits quickly.
And help her forget her troubles, however momentarily.
After many lost minutes and countless laps, she finally took a break. She sat on the wide step in the shallow end, the water bouncing against her from the waves she’d created, making her buoyant. Smoothing her hair back from her face, she blinked away the droplets that clung to her lashes, focused on the rapid breaths she took, her heart racing with exertion.
The view of water stretching as far as the eye could see filled her with memories of other stolen late nights in the pool. Of her swimming with her little friends from the village, one particular night when they were all teens and daring enough to strip off their clothes and skinny dip with the local boys. Lots of squealing and laughter, bikini tops flying, swim trunks hitting the edge of the pool with loud, wet thumps.
How angry her father had become when he discovered at least twelve naked teenagers splashing in his pool, how scared those boys became when they realized Giorgio Renaldi himself was roaring at them to leave the premises at once.
Her mother had tried to convince him they were indulging in nothing but harmless fun. How protective her father had been, the lecture he gave her the next morning about the mysteries of sex embarrassing both of them, him especially, until he’d finally declared it a discussion more suited with her mother.
Melancholy settled deep within her bones, she tossed her head back, stared at the star-lit sky. It was velvety black, dotted with tiny twinkles of silver, and she scooted lower, let the water lap over her skin, her neck, her hair, until she was completely submerged with the exception of her face. A move she’d done often as a child.
Everything became muffled then, the water sloshing against her ears, making the natural night sounds muted. Her head had gone fuzzy, as if she were in another world. It was safe here, no one could find her and she could bury herself into oblivion.
Closing her eyes, she let her body float, enjoying the sensation of the warming water sliding over her nakedness. Her belly tingled, her nipples tightened and lower, between her legs, she was heavy with want.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d been with a man. The thought of being with a particular man filled her with such lust she drew in a harsh breath, let it escape shakily. Gavin flashed through her mind, the first time she’d met him in his office. The night at the cocktail party when he’d squelched her original plan of speaking with Rhett.
She liked how Gavin looked in his glasses, how…strict they made him appear. Tall and broad, he emanated power without saying a word, which she found incredibly arousing. He was a masterful dresser, his suits were some of the finest she’d ever seen, and his ties were colorful, with subdued patterns that told he was boldly refined.
All Worth ties, she knew. Interesting how the family appeared in her life on a constant basis. They always did.
Gavin had large hands, long fingers. She wondered if he touched a woman as if she were made of spun glass. Gently, reverently, with the most thoughtful care. Or was he the type who was a little rougher, more forceful. Would he wrap his fist in her hair and tug her close? Kiss her until she couldn’t breathe, his hands all over her, pushing her closer and closer to her release with a few thrusts of his tongue and strokes of his fingers?
Her eyes snapped open, and she scrambled to sit up, sputtering when she took in some water. She’d lost herself in thought, lost herself in lusty imaginings she had no business entertaining. Sweeping her hair away from her face again, she slowly swam to the other end of the pool, her legs aching with the movement. Grabbing the handles that flanked either side of the steps, she hauled herself from the water, shivering when the air hit her skin, cooling her to the point of gasping.
Dripping on the pavers, she went to the lounge chair where she’d dropped her towel only to find it wasn’t there. She glanced around, shivering so hard her teeth chattered, but she didn’t see it.
Where did it go? It couldn’t have grown legs and walked away.
“Looking for something?”
Stasia stilled at the sound of the voice coming from behind her. Desire slid through her body, weakening her knees. She recognized the voice, of course. Wondered how much he saw, how much he was looking at now. She was completely on display, nothing to hide behind, and he was getting an eyeful. If she turned around, he’d see absolutely everything.
Deciding she had nothing to hide, she turned, rested her hands on her hips. He emerged from the shadow of an olive tree, the thick towel clutched in one hand, his gaze glowing as it landed upon her. He stared at her face, never daring to look past her chin, and she admired the strength he showed in doing so.
Most men would waste no time checking out her nudity. And how could she blame them? She would be checking out a man who stood naked in front of her too—specifically the very man in front of her now.
