I waited until he emerged and circled back away from that line of questioning. “So, this principal of yours, Mr. Chaplin, must be proud of you. Does he know how much he inspired you?”

What an amazing gift to give a teacher, to know how you changed a kid’s life, and even more that the child had grown up to become world famous. I shook my head with wonder. I couldn’t remember any teacher having such an impact on me, although I’d liked my English and art teacher in high school. But it was mostly Nana who had inspired my love for the written word and allowed my creativity to flourish. She and I, with all of the art projects we would work on all summer long, and look what I’d done with it ... a big fat nothing. Yet. My heart squeezed as I thought of Nana. I missed her so much. I wondered what she would think of Jack. If she would approve.

“Mr. Chaplin, as far as I know, has no idea.”

“He must know, I mean surely you are as famous over there as you are here.” In fact, the Erath saga was a global phenomenon. There was no way he wasn’t recognized the world over.

I was obviously straying into dangerous territory again. I hadn’t meant to. Jack turned without answering and broke into a powerful stroke. Though we’d only known each other a few days, I was already picking up cues for when he was uncomfortable. When he turned at the other end, I quickly moved to the edge of the pool where he was headed and slipped my feet into the water.

“I’m sorry,” I said as he came up in front of me. “It’s none of my business. I’m not trying to pry, I was just curious about you. What makes you ... you. But, as I said, it’s none of my business. I’ll stop.” I smiled. “Sooo, how about this fall weather we’re having? Hmm?” I waggled my eyebrows trying to lighten the mood.

“Yeah,” he said, going along with it for a moment. “Gorgeous.”

I waited. He seemed like he might say more.

He did. “My life in England is not something I talk about. Ever. I’m sorry. I will tell you, though,” he took a deep breath and looked up at me, “that the reason Mr. Chaplin doesn’t know who I am is because I wasn’t Jack Eversea back then. My mother and I changed our names when we came here. In fact, she doesn’t go by Eversea anymore either since she remarried. So, for the most part, no one bothers her, which is how we both like it.”

My vivid imagination could only grapple with the kind of reasons a mother would first put her young child in a boarding school, and then flee to another country and change their names. My stomach churned at his words, and my heart hurt. He must have seen my reaction, because he came forward and put a hand on each knee. My pulse sped up.

“Don’t, Keri Ann. Don’t feel sorry for me. It’s not something I want to talk about, but suffice it to say that for some reason, you know more than anyone. It’s not that bad. If it was, I would never have put myself in such a public position.” I wanted to feel warm and fuzzy that he had confided in me just a little, but knowing the little bit was torture. “Okay?” he asked.

“I wish you hadn’t told me anything,” I said quietly. I saw a flash of something in his eyes, and just as quickly, it was gone. I realized my words could have sounded callous, I hadn’t meant them that way.

“Me too.” He made to move away, but I grabbed his arm.

“Wait,” I said, in case he had been about to shut me out, or swim away. “That didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean you couldn’t tell me, or that I ... well ... ”

He shook his head. “It’s fine, Keri Ann.”

“It’s not fine. I just want you to know, I wished you hadn’t told me because ... I care about you. I’m not pitying you, I care about you.” I paused. I really did care about him—as crazy as that could be after only knowing someone a few days. And I didn’t mean in the way you care about another human, just because you’re human. But I’d keep that tidbit to myself until my grave.

I decided to forge ahead. “When you care about someone, you don’t like to think of them hurting whether now or way in the past. Especially when you can’t fix it. That’s all I meant by saying that. In reality, I want to know everything about you, but I understand your boundaries.” I took a deep breath and shrugged. “I have them, too.”

He didn’t say anything for a moment, and then suddenly I was squealing as he grabbed my waist and pulled me down into the water with a huge ungraceful splash. As soon as I surfaced, I smacked a wave of water at his face. This was a skill I had perfected defending myself from an older brother.

“Hey,” he yelled and returned the gesture. I quickly slid down under the water and swam away.

When I popped up at the other end of the pool laughing, Jack was still where I’d left him leaning against the wall watching me. Even without the safety of my sunglasses on, I was unable to hide the fact my eyes wanted to take in every mound, curve, and ridge of his muscled body. It was truly a work of art. It wasn’t that steroid-fueled over-worked body builder type, but he was tall and obviously packed with strength. I swallowed my nerves as I let my eyes slide down his abs to the vee his hips made as they disappeared into his shorts.

“You’d better stop that,” he said, his voice husky.

I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to kiss him again, but I didn’t want to be so forward. So I shook my head.

“No?” he asked.

“No.”

I leaned back and rested my elbows behind me on the ledge, mimicking his stance. A challenge. I almost didn’t recognize this new me.

His eyes narrowed as if he was trying to suss me out. I realized my position had thrust my bikini-clad chest forward, but it was too late to suddenly get shy.

“Come here,” he commanded, quietly.

I held his eyes. “You come here,” I countered.

His dimple reappeared as he shook his head slightly with a small lopsided and bemused smile, and then he swam four strong freestyle strokes to stand in front of me.

Breathe, Keri Ann, breathe, I reminded myself for the second time that day. I stayed perfectly still as he held my eyes. His wet skin and hair made his eyes startling. Then he stepped forward between my legs, pushing my feet apart. My pulse tripped over itself.

“This is a good spot,” he murmured, echoing my unformed thoughts exactly. His hands came to my bare waist, the water allowing his skin to slide across mine. It was exquisite, and despite the warmth of the sun, goose bumps formed all over me as the fine hairs of my body reacted to the sensation. I wondered briefly what it would feel like to be fully naked and pressed against his skin.

“What was that?” Jack asked with a grin.

“What?”

“That thing you do when you suddenly bite your lip and you blush furiously.”

“Um ...”

“You did it when I was giving you a tour of the house the other day and a few other times.”

There was no way I was telling him the truth. “Uh... it’s just when I’m feeling nervous,” I offered, staring at his mouth. I sounded way too breathy. Ugh, it was like some bad movie. Except Jack was starring in it, so I was riveted to the spot.

“I thought you became bitchy when you were nervous,” he answered, his face inching closer to mine. “I think you were thinking about something ...” his lips came closer still “... else.”