Page 37 of The Truth About Myths
"We are in the shallow," Henrique drawled.
Isabel anchored her feet on the sandy bottom and forced her eyes open. Her cheeks burned with her dramatic outburst. Cool water penetrated the heavy folds of her clothing. She took tentative breaths and relaxed. Confident in her safety, she moved her arms, enjoying the water's caress, and wiggled her toes in the sand.
Henrique dove and emerged near her. "Before we begin your lesson, I must warn you. Whatever you do, do not lower your head and put your feet up."
"Why would I attempt something so outlandish?"
He flashed a wicked grin, exposing white teeth. "Trust me, just don't."
Isabel rolled her eyes. "Fine. Now what?"
"We are governed by survival instincts. You will start listening to yours."
"That may be the truth for animals. I am ruled by my conscience."
He lifted his brows, patronizing her. As if he alone kept all of humanity's secrets. "Are you so in control then?"
She didn't care one whiff about the challenge in his tone. "Always."
"Then prove it. Control your body into swimming."
She glared at him and lifted her leg. "See, no fins."
He laughed, raising his palms in self-defense. "I'll demonstrate."
He opened his shirt and flung the dripping garment atop the porch. Isabel blinked, riveted by the expanse of bronzed skin and taut muscles. So this was a male chest. Had the temperature increased several degrees? Men swam bare-chested all the time, and she wore the most modest gown possible, but still… The moment felt too intimate. How could it not? The same water lapping her torso caressed his male nipples. Gasping, Isabel tore her gaze from his salacious body to his unrepentant grin. He winked and plunged headfirst. With fluid movements, he lifted his head above the surface, kicking his legs and pulling with his arms in perfect cadence, as if he alone listened to the ocean's music.
He flashed her a conceited smile. "Come here."
Isabel's heart drummed inside her chest. She remembered to put one foot in front of the other until she arrived before him. He lifted her, one hand under her knees, the other below her mid-back.
"Calm down. This is part of the lesson."
She curbed the instinct to plant her feet back on the sandy bottom.
"See how the water buoys you? It's natural."
Isabel relaxed her neck and shoulders and closed her eyes. The water magically lifted her. Still, she could feel his palms burning her skin. When she opened her eyelids, his gaze was fixed on her mouth. Isabel licked her lips, her pulse accelerating.
He released her and cleared his throat. "See how easy it is? Now it is your turn. Go."
"Can't you be more specific? Was this how your tutors taught you to swim?"
"My father used to take us to the river Tua in the summer, my sister and me. His teaching method consisted of dunking us first and then shouting to keep our heads up. Later, we would fish until the shadows of the Princess Tower were a mile long, and Mother shooed us back into the house." The memory softened his features.
His father spent time with him? "He seems wonderful."
"You would've liked the stoic old gentleman. He most surely would've liked you. A more patriotic subject this country never saw." His voice turned gruff.
Isabel had the impulse to massage the pleats on his forehead. "Does he live in Braganza still?"
"He passed away long ago."
"I'm sorry."
Their gazes locked. Emotions swirled beneath his surface. Should she ask what happened? When they seemed to haunt him so? Did she want to know?
He broke eye contact, his customary smile back in place. "We are here to swim, no? You are lucky because swimming is one of the many things I excel at. I've swum the Hellespont, the Seine, the Thames, the English Channel."
