Page 64 of Across Time

He climbs down and then lifts me off my horse, setting me gently on the ground. We walk down the hill, him hovering close in case my ankle gives way. And when we reach the bottom, he untucks his shirt and reaches for the top button.

"What on earth are you doing?" I demand.

His mouth lifts on one side. "Did you think we'd swim fully dressed?"

My jaw drops. A swim is not what I agreed to, by any stretch of the imagination. "I'm not swimming! I thought you meant we'd just sit here."

"Come, Amelie. Face your fears. What’s the worst that could happen?”

My arms fold across my chest. “Do I really need to detail that for you? My sister drowned.”

He continues unbuttoning his shirt. “And you think I will drown? I’ve been swimming in this lake since I was small. I'm not going to let anything happen to you. And nothing will happen to me."

"Absolutely not."

He gives me that shrug of his, so effortlessly Gallic, and pulls his shirt over his head.

For a moment I gape. I’ve seen him without a shirt from afar, but never like this, standing three feet away. His chest is smooth and perfectly formed, an anatomy lesson of the best possible kind. Every muscle a man can have, he has in spades. He grins, as if he's caught me at something, which he has, and I flush.

"In my time, undressing in front of a woman without her permission is known as exposure and it's a crime,” I say primly.

He laughs. "No one is telling you to watch." He reaches for his belt. There's something so sexual about it, so indecent. It's how he would undress for me in some other circumstance. Eager, unapologetic...

"God," I say, facing away from him. I wait until I've heard him splash before I turn, just catching sight of his perfect, broad back and the most gorgeous male ass I’ve ever seen in my life before he dives under. I hold my breath, waiting for him to reemerge, and don't release it until he's back above the surface.

"Please don't stay under like that," I ask quietly, my voice desperate. It's probably the first time in our acquaintance I've begged him for something.

His face softens and he wades through the water until he stands only a few feet away. "I'm a grown man,” he says gently. “Nothing is going to happen to me. This water is perhaps six feet at its deepest point."

I know he’s right. Swimming in this lake is far less risky than half the things he does, but knowing that doesn’t lessen my fear. "You might hit your head on something. You can drown in an inch of water."

He grins, pushing his wet hair off his face. "Who will protect me from every inch of water once you’re not here?"

The question causes a pain in my heart, because I really do want an answer: who will watch over him and keep him safe once I’m gone? Not that I've ever actually kept him safe. I suppose I just like the illusion that I could keep him safe if the situation presented itself.

He reaches out his hand. "Please come in. I won't allow anything to happen to either of us. I swear it on my life. You are no longer a child. You can control your gifts. You were brave to come here, and you are brave to attempt the journey home. Be brave one more time. For me."

My heart pounds in terror, but I know that if this is ever going to happen it has to be now. At least Henri understands that I’m scared, and feels some sympathy for it. Mark won’t. How could he, when he has no idea why I’m scared in the first place?

"Turn around," I say quietly. When he does, I slip out of the clothes and take a first tentative step on the slippery, moss-covered rocks that lead into the water.

My breathing is shallow, and every bone in my body wants to retreat to the safety of the shore. I keep my eyes glued to his broad back, as if it’s the finish line. He has the sort of build featured in magazines at home: pure muscle, tapering to a narrow waist. Mark still has the lanky build of a boy, though he and Henri are the same age.

“Can I turn around yet?” he asks.

"No!" I cry. “I’m only up to my calves.”

He laughs. "For a woman who has no problem discussing brassieres in mixed company, you are suddenly quite modest."

"There's a big difference between talking about something and brandishing it about."

"You're forgetting I've already seen you naked."

The water swirls around the middle of my thighs, and then my waist. I feel like I’m not quite taking in full breaths. "You said you didn't see anything!"

"I didn't see much," he amends. "At the time I was panicked but..."

"But what?" I take one more step and am in up to my collarbone. "You can turn around."