“Maybe you were born with this proclivity for taking in strays, like I was born with the freak math gene.”
She froze in the action of lifting a crescent of orange to her mouth and met his stare. She’d heard the mocking tone, the slight self-disparagement.
“Everybody gets a little lost sometimes, Thomas.”
She couldn’t quite read the message in his shadowed eyes, but he no longer looked amused.
“You should take care, Sophie. You’re more like your friend Dr. Lancaster than you may think. A kind heart can be taken advantage of,” he said quietly.
She took a bite out of the orange and chewed. “Have you ever noticed that you have a habit of warning me to stay away from you?”
He grunted softly and glanced out at the lake.
“So how’s your newest patient doing?” he asked after a moment.
She exhaled slowly, recognizing she’d been rebuffed with the change of topic. “Guy is fine. He won’t let me anywhere near that injured paw, of course, but hopefully if I can keep him fed, it’ll heal on its own.”
They spent the large portion of the remainder of the morning on the dock, leisurely eating the breakfast Sophie had supplied, swimming when they got too warm, and talking about what Sophie would term more “safe” topics—the sports they enjoyed, favorite restaurants in the city, their careers.
They lolled in the sun, and Sophie was glad to see that Thomas drifted off for a few minutes. She’d guessed he hadn’t slept much last night. When he awoke, he mumbled something about dreaming he was a fish cooking in a frying pan. Sophie suggested a swim.
Later, she told him a story while they both treaded water about how she’d dared to ask a boy up to the lake house when she was eleven years old.
“I think he and his parents thought it was a bit strange, actually, for a girl my age to ask a boy to spend a weekend with her,” Sophie explained with a grin. “But all my girlfriends were busy, and I hated to come to the lake house without a companion. So I convinced Eric Summers to come here, right?”
Thomas nodded, listening.
“And I was mortified when we were swimming together and a fish bit me in the butt. Hard, too,” she added through Thomas’s unabashed male laughter. “I mean enough to break the skin, make me scream like a banshee, and rush up onto the dock bringing half the lake water with me, grabbing my butt like I thought my hand was the only thing holding it onto my body. Eric Summers never did come back with me to Lake Haven after that. Apparently I’d confirmed all his suspicions about going away for the weekend with an eleven-year-old girl. I hope I didn’t scar him for life in regard to romantic getaways.”
Thomas was still laughing when he swam closer. Their water-lubricated skin slid sensually next to one another’s and their treading legs tangled. He planted a quick, wet kiss on her mouth—grin to grin—and remained close, so that their lips caressed when he murmured, “If I had been that little boy, I’d have told you the fish around here have very good taste.”
Sophie’s eyes went wide when he slid his large hand beneath the panties of her bikini and gave a buttock a firm squeeze. His expression was distilled mischief, but Sophie recognized the appreciative male gleam in his eyes as well.
“I don’t know how I kept myself away from you for two years,” he said.
Sophie almost forgot to tread water she was so surprised by his sudden admission.
“I . . . I wish you hadn’t,” Sophie replied. “I’m still not sure why you made a point of it.”
“Instinct, maybe.” His slow grin took her by surprise yet again. He kissed her, quick and potent. “Self-preservation?”
“Do you honestly think I would cause you some sort of harm?” Sophie asked bemusedly, highly distracted by his nearness, not to mention his sensual stroking of her bare ass.
His knowing, amused look confused her.
“What?” Sophie asked.
He shook his head slowly. Sophie got the impression he considered her an innocent for not understanding his hesitancy in approaching her.
“It’s hard, breaking that barrier. I was interested. I was really interested, but ...”
“What, Thomas?”
He shrugged sheepishly, and Sophie understood by his manner he didn’t want to make a big deal out of what he was saying. He lowered his head until his lips were a fraction of an inch away from her own. Their treading limbs rubbed and caressed each other’s in the slippery water.
“You’re not like the other women I’ve dated. I wasn’t sure if you’d like me,” he said quietly.
Sophie blinked. Surely he couldn’t be serious. But he’d sounded so warm . . . so genuine.