A second invitation wasn’t required as she took the beach bag from him and skimmed the top of the steps as she hurried to the small adobe building. When she returned, wearing her lavender swimsuit, Gard had already stripped down to his swimming trunks. He used her beach bag to store his clothes.
Rushing water had worn the huge gray boulders smooth and gouged out holes to make placid pools while the musical cascade of water continued on its way down to the sea. A dozen people were already enjoying the idyllic setting, most of them sunbathing on the warm stone.
“Watch your step,” Gard warned when the crudely fashioned steps ended and they had to traverse the massive boulders.
Luckily Rachel had put on her deck shoes. The ridged soles gave her traction to travel over the uneven contours of the huge stones, part of the mountain’s core that had been exposed by centuries of carving water. Once they were at the rushing stream’s level, Gard turned upstream.
There was no formal path, no easy way to walk along the water’s course. Moving singly, they edged around a two-story boulder, flattened against its sheer face with a narrow lip offering toeholds. They passed the main waterfall, where the stream spilled twenty feet into a large, deep pool, and continued upstream. It seemed to require the agility of a mountain goat, climbing and jumping from one stone to another. Sometimes they were forced to leave the stream to circle a standing rock.
No one else had ventured as far as they did, settling for the easy access of the rock pool at the base of the waterfall and the lower-level pools that weren’t so difficult to reach. Rachel paused to catch her breath and looked back to see how far they’d come.
The open-air restaurant with its roof of thatched palm leaves sat on the bluff overlooking the main waterfall. Tropical plants crowded around it. At this distance the brilliant scarlet color predominated, looking like clusters of thousands of red flowers.
Almost an equal distance ahead of Rachel she could see a narrow rope bridge crossing the stream. On the other side of the stream there was a knoll where a long adobe house sat in the shade of spreading trees. A large tan dog slept on a patch of cool earth, and from somewhere close by a donkey brayed. But always in the background was the quiet tumble of water on its downward rush to the sea.
“Tired?” Gard’s low voice touched her.
“No.” Rachel turned, an inner glow lighting her eyes as she met his gaze. “Fascinated.”
He passed her a look of understanding and swung back around to lead the way again. “I found a place.” The words came over his shoulder as Rachel fell in behind him.
Between two boulders there was a narrow opening and the glistening surface of a mirror-smooth pool just
beyond it. Gard squeezed through the opening and disappeared behind one of the boulders. Rachel ventured forward cautiously. From what little she could see of the rock pool, it was walled in by high, sheer stones.
But there was a narrow ledge to the right of the opening that skirted the pool for about four feet. At that point it curved onto another boulder lying on its side, forming a natural deck for the swimming hole. It was secluded and private, guarded by the high rocks surrounding it. Gard stood on the long, relatively flat stones and waited for her to join him.
“Well? Was it worth the walk?” There was a knowing glitter in his eyes when she traversed the last few feet to stand beside him.
“I don’t know if I’d call it a ‘walk.’” Rachel said, questioning his description of their short trek. “But it was worth it.”
His finger hooked under her chin and tipped her head up so he could drop a light kiss on her lips. His lidded gaze continued to study them with disturbing interest, causing a little leap of excitement within Rachel.
“Get your shoes off and let’s go for a swim.” His low suggestion was at odds with the body signals he was giving, but it seemed wiser to listen to his voice.
“Okay,” she breathed out.
While he kicked off his canvas loafers, Rachel sat down on the sun-warmed stone to untie her shoelaces. When both shoes were removed, his hand was there to pull Rachel to her feet. Gard held onto the boulder as he led her down its gentle slope to the pool’s edge.
“Is it deep?” She didn’t want to dive in without knowing and tentatively stuck a toe in the water to test the temperature. She jerked it back. “The water’s cold.”
“No,” Gard corrected. “The sun is hot, and the water is only warm.” His hand tightened its grip on hers and urged her forward. “Come on. Let’s jump in.”
“Hmm.” The negative sound came from her throat as she resisted the pressure of his hand. “You jump in,” she said and started to sit down to ease herself slowly into the cool water. “I prefer the gradual shock.”
“Oh, no.” With a pull of his hand he forced her upright, then scooped her wiggling and protesting body into his arms.
The instant Rachel realized that there was no hope of struggling free, she wrapped her arms around his neck and hung on. “Gard, don’t.” Her words were halfway between a plea and an empty threat.
There was a complacent gleam in his dark eyes as he looked down at her, cradled in his arms. An awareness curled through her for the sensation of her body curved against the solidness of his naked chest and the hard strength of his flexed arm muscles imprinted on her back and the underside of her legs. It tightened her stomach muscles and closed a hand on her lungs.
Gard sensed the change in her reaction to the moment. A look of intimacy stole into his eyes, too, as his gaze roamed possessively over her face. His body heat seemed to radiate over her skin, warming her flesh the way his look was igniting her desire.
“I’m not going to let you back away this time.” His low voice vibrated huskily over her, the comment an obvious reference to the way she had backed away from making love to him. “Sooner or later you’re going to have to take the plunge.”
“I know,” Rachel whispered, because she felt the inevitability of it. At some time or another it had stopped being a question of whether it was what she wanted and become instead when she wanted it to happen.
A smile edged the corners of his mouth. “Damn you for knowing”—his look was alive, gleaming with a mixture of desire and wickedness—“and still putting me through this.”