Hot Ice

spot for a picnic. Aren’t you glad we waited?”
    She had to match his grin. “A picnic,” she agreed with her eyes dancing. “And a bath.”
    “Bath?”
    “A wonderful, cool, wet bath.” Catching him by surprise, she gave him a quick, smacking kiss, then dashed to the side of the lagoon. “I’m not passing this up, Douglas.” She dropped her pack and began to dig inside. “Just the thought of getting my body into water and washing off the dirt of the past couple of days makes me crazy.” She brought out a cake of French milled soap and a small bottle of shampoo.
    Doug took the soap and held it under his nose. It smelled like her—feminine, fresh. Expensive. “Gonna share?”
    “All right. And in this case, because I’m feeling generous, no charge.”
    His grin tilted as he tossed the soap back to her. “Can’t take a bath with your clothes on.”
    She met the challenge in his eyes and undid her top button. “I’ve no intention of keeping them on.” Slowly, she undid the range of buttons, waiting while his gaze followed the trail. A light breeze ruffled the edges and tickled the line of bare skin. “All you have to do,” she said softly, “is turn around.” When he lifted his gaze to hers and smiled, she gestured with the cake in her hand. “Or no soap.”
    “Talk about spoilsports,” he mumbled, but turned his back.
    In seconds, Whitney stripped and dove cleanly into the pool. Breaking the surface, she treaded water. “Your turn.” With the simple pleasure of having water against her skin, she dipped her head back and let it flow through her hair. “Don’t forget the shampoo.”
    The water was clear enough to give him a tempting silhouette of her body from the shoulders down. Water lapped over her breasts. Her feet kicked gently. Feeling the stir, the dull, dangerous stir of desire, he concentrated on her face. It didn’t help.
    It glowed with laughter, washed clean of the light, sophisticated makeup she put on every morning. Her hair was sleek, turned dark with water and sun as it framed the elegant bones that would keep her a beauty even when she was eighty. Doug picked up the little plastic bottle of shampoo and tossed it in his hand.
    Under the circumstances, he thought it wise to look at the humor in the situation. He had a ticket to a million-dollar prize literally at his fingertips, a determined and very clever enemy breathing down his throat, and he was about to skinny-dip with an ice-cream princess.
    After pulling his shirt over his head, he reached for the snap of his jeans. “You’re not going to turn around are you?”
    Dammit, she liked it when he grinned that way. The cheerful cockiness was just plain appealing. Lavishly, she began to soap one arm. She hadn’t realized how much she’d missed that cool, slick feeling. “Want to brag, do you, Douglas? I’m not easily impressed.”
    He sat down to remove his shoes. “Leave me my share of the soap.”
    “Move a little faster then.” She began to soap her other arm in the same long, smooth stroke. “God, this is better than Elizabeth Arden’s.” With a sigh, she lay back and lifted one leg out of the water. When he stood and dropped his jeans, she gave him a thorough, critical study. Her expression was bland, but she didn’t miss the lean, muscled thighs, the taut stomach, the narrow hips just covered with low, snug briefs. He had the clean, sleek build of a runner. And that, she supposed, was what he was.
    “Adequate,” she said after a moment. “Since you apparently like to pose, it’s a pity I didn’t bring my Polaroid.”
    Unstung, he pulled off the briefs. For a moment, he was poised, naked—and she was forced to admit, magnificent—at the edge of the lagoon. His dive was sharp before he surfaced a foot away from her. What he’d seen underwater made his mouth go dry with desire.
    “Soap,” he said, as cool as she, and offered the shampoo in trade.
    “Don’t forget behind the ears.” Using a generous hand, she poured shampoo into her palm.
    “Hey, half’s mine, remember.”
    “You’ll get it. Anyway, I’ve more hair than you.” She worked it into a lather while she scissored her feet to keep above water.
    He gestured with the soap before rubbing it over his chest. “And I’ve more body.”
    With a smile, she sank below the surface, leaving a frothy trail of suds where her hair fanned out. The beat of water sucked them down and away. Unable to resist, she swam down, deeper. She could