Frankie turned upright and lowered her feet to find the sea bed, arms automatically folding over her chest. Someone was swimming towards her.
Her breath caught in her throat and her heart took up a rhythm that made it difficult for her lungs to fill with air. Fear at getting caught semi-skinny-dipping warred with excitement as she realized the swimmer was Lucas. He stopped next to her and swiped water from his eyes.
His hair immediately sprung from his head into curls and Frankie suppressed the need to reach out a hand and push it back from his forehead.
“You shouldn’t be swimming out here alone.” His voice was curt with none of the friendliness of earlier that day.
“I’m not alone.” She stated the obvious.
“But you can trust me, but others may not be as…” He struggled for the right word. “Honourable.”
“I wanted to be alone. I thought I was.”
He shrugged. “Sometimes long distance swimming is therapeutic. You didn’t see me out there?”
“No.” Her cheeks heated. The water danced around her breasts as she did her best to keep them below the surface.
“You’ve got something stuck on your arm.” Lucas reached out.
“It’s fine.” Her cheeks flamed as she pulled her arm closer to her side.
“Is it seaweed?” He wrinkled his nose in distaste, but fortunately didn’t try and snag the offending item hooked around her elbow.
“Not exactly.”
“Do you know what it is?”
Frankie nodded, hugging her arms tighter around her body. She didn’t think he’d taken a step closer to her, but somehow the distance between them had closed. His eyes remained on her face, but she couldn’t be certain he hadn’t taken a sneaky look at what she was trying to hide.
“What is it, Frankie?”
Now she was in no doubt, he’d definitely taken a step nearer. His shoulders seemed so much wider than when they were covered by scrubs, but she supposed if he regularly swam so far out she hadn’t been able to see him when she entered the water, then they would be well-toned.
Well-toned. That was a definite understatement. They looked muscular and powerful and she longed to run her hands over the expanse of his chest, across his shoulders, and down his arms. He was looking at her so intensely she feared he could see right inside and read her thoughts.
“Frankie?”
“I…” She tried to clear her mind and bring back the ability to talk. “It’s my bra.”
“Wow.” A grin spread across his face. He smiled at her from his blue eyes down to the the huge smile on his face. She wanted that mouth on hers. In the worst way. Goosebumps ran down her arms, causing a small shiver to run through her body. Her nipples beaded and she desperately tried to drag a deep breath into her lungs.
“The thieves brought the medical supplies back, but not my clothes. I’m trying to wash it.”
The mundane statement seemed to do the trick, and Lucas took a step back. “I guess I should probably leave you to it.”
“I guess.” Never before had she wanted to ask someone to help her wash her underwear. But she did now. Though, if she were honest, she didn’t want his big hands on her lingerie, she wanted them on what the scrap of lace covered.
“I’m going to leave now.” He took another step towards the shore, his eyes lingering on hers. “And leave you to your…washing.”
Frankie nodded.
He strode through the water. She should probably look away. They worked together. It was bad enough that she seemed to have developed a crush on her superior without seeing what he swam in. But the magnetising view of his broad back glistening with water was too much.
She continued to watch while he stepped out of the water onto the sand. He wore a pair of white boxers, just like the ones he’d loaned to her.
“Lucas?” she called.
“What, Frankie?” He didn’t turn back to face her.
She was equal parts glad and frustrated. Glad because she got to enjoy the view, the cotton material had moulded itself to his backside and was see-through under the beach light. It showcased his round, firm bottom. Frustrated because she wasn’t getting to see what was on the other side.
“You know those cotton boxers go see-through in the water, right?”
Lucas grabbed his towel from the opposite side of the jetty to hers and wrapped it around his hips. He moved to the edge of the wooden structure and sat down, dangling his feet over the edge. “I sure do, Frankie.”
She swallowed. He wasn’t going to preserve her dignity and walk away. His gaze met hers and he stared unwavering, the intensity of his blue eyes made her gut clench.
“You should probably go back to camp and dry off. Get into clean clothes. So you don’t catch a chill.” She was babbling, she knew it, but couldn’t help herself. There was no way she could get out of the sea now she knew what water combined with the light did to white cotton boxer shorts.