Mad About You

asked. "And what did you spill on your shirt?"
    Their voices faded and Jasmine counted to one hundred, then scrambled out of her hiding place. She slapped an adhesive bandage over the blister, shoved her feet in her shoes, then peeked outside. Thankfully, the coast seemed clear. Heaving a sigh of relief, she made her escape and retraced her steps alongside the pool, which was still deserted.
    Her mind spun, replaying the fantastic tales Ladden had told her and their lapse, which had very nearly led to disaster. Right now she was sure of one thing—she could not allow herself to get emotionally attached to Ladden. She hadn't clawed her way out of Glenhayden and up the social ladder of Sacramento to marry an antiques dealer with a too-vivid imagination.
    No, she decided, quickening her step, Ladden Sanderson didn't figure into her lifelong dreams. She had gone as far as the deep end of the pool when a powerful gust of wind swirled around her, ruffling the giant leaves of the tropical plants in the landscaping. Jasmine gathered the hem of her dress in one hand, and tried to hold her hair in place with the other. She stumbled sideways, then steadied herself mere inches from the edge. Her heart pumped adrenaline through her trembling body... she couldn't swim. Then a gust carrying the force of human hands knocked her off balance. Scrambling desperately for a foothold, Jasmine clawed the air in terror and screamed just before she plunged beneath the surface.

Chapter Eleven

    LADDEN POSITIONED HIMSELF in a spot on the patio where he could watch for Jasmine's return as unobtrusively as possible. Betsy, having teased him mercilessly on the way back, was now perched next to the melting ice sculpture whose demise was undoubtedly being hastened by the scorching glances of the two men hanging on her every word.
    He had a beer halfway to his mouth when a scream from the direction of the pool pierced the air. His brain processed the sound in a split second... Jasmine! With his heart in his throat, Ladden pushed through the crowd and hurdled over low tables. He pounded down the path leading to the pool, frantic, turning in all directions.
    "Jasmine, where are you?" Then he saw a movement in the deep end of the shadowy pool. A flash of red confirmed his worst fear. He went from motionless to a dead run in the span of a heartbeat, tearing off his jacket just before he dove off the edge and sliced the surface. Jasmine's eyes were closed and she floated virtually motionless, her dark hair like tentacles around her pale face.
    Moving without rational thought, Ladden grabbed her waist and dragged her to the surface with two massive kicks. He threw back his head and gulped air, yelling for help as he hauled her limp body to the side. A gasping crowd had gathered and several people helped him lift her from the water. He heaved himself up over the edge of the pool and despite the fear that threatened to paralyze him, immediately began to administer CPR, talking to her between chest compressions and transferring the breath from his lungs into hers.
    "Jasmine. Wake up. Wake up and talk to me." He kept his emotion in check, barely. She needed him to be strong, to stay calm. "Come on, Jasmine, breathe." When he shoved his ear to her mouth to listen for signs of recovery, he heard a weak gurgle in her throat. He jerked up and squeezed her hand. "Breathe, Jasmine, breathe."
    Her chest heaved and she sputtered, spewing water. Weak with relief, he turned her on her side to help expel the liquid, vaguely aware of the crowd applauding.
    "Stand back," he yelled. "Give her room!"
    Within a few seconds, he heard a siren in the distance. "You're okay," he whispered, smoothing her dark hair back from her colorless face.
    "Ladden?" she gasped. "A freak wind... must have lost my balance."
    "Shhh, don't talk, just try to relax and concentrate on breathing." Flashes of light exploded on all sides. Enraged, Ladden bellowed at the crowd and pulled down Jasmine's dress to cover her thighs.
    "Let the governor through!" someone shouted, and he looked up in time to see McDonald burst through the crowd, his face a gray mask.
    "Jasmine!" he yelled, kneeling by her and grasping her hand.
    Ladden pulled back, rising on rubbery legs. Now that the danger had passed, it hit him how close he’d come to losing her.
    "What happened?" the governor asked.
    "We heard a scream," a lady said.
    "When we got here, she was floating in the deep end," someone else chimed in.
    "This