now, thank you.”
“Saving yourself for Bryan?”
The apparent double entendre made her turn to look at him in surprise. Had that actually been a lame joke? If so, it was the first time she’d heard Donovan even attempt to be amusing. Now, how was she supposed to respond? Had she been with Bryan, she would have shot back some similar wisecrack, but with Donovan, her usual wit seemed to get tangled around her tongue.
He didn’t wait for her to come up with something to say. Instead, he turned, reached down to scoop up a pebble, and sent it skipping frenetically over the surface of the water.
“Very impressive.” She feigned applause. “I could never do that. Grace, now, is a champion rock skipper.”
He looked skeptical. “You can’t skip a rock?”
“Nope,” she replied cheerfully. “I’ve tried since I was seven, and I’ve never managed more than a sorry bounce or two before my rock sank straight to the bottom. My dad was convinced I just wasn’t trying, but I really did try—until I finally gave up in sheer frustration.”
“Everyone can skip a rock.”
“I can’t,” she said with a shrug. “Just never figured out the trajectories or whatever.”
“Everyone can skip a rock,” he repeated, looking down at the ground.
“Not everyone.”
He bent to pluck several stones from the ground, then rattled them in his palm as he straightened. “Here. Give it a try.”
“I’m telling you, Donovan, it’s a lost cause. I cannot skip rocks.”
“Of course you can.” He placed a flat stone in her hand. “Now, just skim it over the water’s surface.”
“Easier said than done,” she muttered, then obligingly tossed the rock at the water. As she’d expected, it sank with a splash.
“No, you threw it into the water, not across it.” Donovan handed her another stone. “Think of the water as a solid surface and let the rock hit it at a glancing angle.”
“Oh, sure. No problem.” She sighed and threw the second rock, watching in resignation when it immediately disappeared beneath the surface. “Okay. Have I convinced you yet?”
“You’re not trying.”
“If only you knew how many times I’ve heard that—in exactly that same tone.”
He gave her another stone. “Try again. And remember, your object is to skip the rock, not sink it.”
That rock made a half-hearted attempt to bounce before it was devoured by a hungry ripple. Chloe turned with a disgusted shake of her head. “I told you. I can’t—”
He folded her fingers around another rock. “Try again.”
She frowned a little. She didn’t quite like the grimly determined look on Donovan’s face. He had decided, for some reason, to teach her how to skip a rock—and he didn’t seem inclined to give up until she had learned to do so. Because she had a sudden mental picture of herself standing there throwing rocks until sundown, she shook her head. “I’d really rather not. I just can’t—”
Her words stumbled to a halt when he moved behind her and covered her hand with his own.
“Like this,” he said, pulling her arm back and tilting her hand to a position that satisfied him. “Bring your arm forward and release the rock exactly at that angle.”
She had to clear her throat before she could speak. “You’re not going to give up until I learn this, are you?”
His low voice rumbled unnervingly close to her ear. “It’s just a matter of convincing you that you want it.”
“It’s, um, not that important a skill to learn.”
Without releasing her, he shrugged. “I don’t like hearing anyone say, ‘I can’t.’”
There had to be some significance to that statement, she mused, trying to distract herself from how closely he stood to her. Something in his past or his psyche made him doggedly stick to a task until it was completed to his satisfaction.
The distraction technique wasn’t helping much. She was entirely too aware of the warmth that seemed to radiate from him, and the strength of the hand that held hers. She was definitely spending too much time alone with this man.
She tossed the rock quickly, hoping it would skip so he would move away. It sort of bounced once before sinking.
Sighing, she turned her head to look at him, intending to tell him to forget it. To mark this project off as a lost cause. She couldn’t skip rocks, didn’t even want to skip rocks, and she saw no reason to waste any more time trying. She was simply going to politely, but firmly, tell him….
Her gaze locked with his cool green eyes…and whatever she had intended to say fled from her mind. His arm was still partially around her, and he stood so close she could feel his breath on her cheek. A quiver of reaction rippled somewhere deep inside her.
It was no longer possible to deny a fact she’d been trying to ignore since she’d first met Donovan Chance. She was very strongly attracted to him. She still couldn’t say she liked him—but she was physically drawn to him in a way that worried her.
Though she had tried to tell herself the attraction was simply circumstantial, the rationalization just didn’t ring true anymore. She certainly didn’t fall for every interesting man with whom she spent time. Which made it even more perplexing that, for the second time in a short period, she found himself intrigued by a strange man.
She moistened her suddenly dry mouth. “Um…”
So abruptly she nearly stumbled, Donovan released her and backed away, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. “Maybe Bryan’s the one who should help you with this,” he said.
It demonstrated exactly how far her thoughts had wandered when she gaped at him and asked, “What do you mean?”
His left eyebrow lifted fractionally, “Bryan’s better at teaching things than I am. He explains things more clearly. He could probably show you how to skip a rock halfway across the lake.”
She managed a weak, decidedly fake smile. “I doubt that.”
Motioning toward the path they had come down, he moved another step backward. “Ready to head back up to the house?”
“Sure. Bryan could be trying to call us.”
His face could have been carved from the same hard rock that made up the bluff behind him. “I have my cell phone. He’d call that number if he wanted to reach us.”
Nodding, she made a sign for him to proceed her. “I’ll follow you.”
“It would probably be better if you go first. Just in case you slip or anything.”
She stepped onto the path, but asked over her shoulder, “Still playing bodyguard?”
“I told you. I’m not a bodyguard.”
The word always seemed to annoy him. Something else from his past, perhaps. Another little psychological quirk she would probably never understand because she didn’t expect to get to know him that well.
She started up the path with as much speed as she could safely manage. She had no intention of falling into his arms, or making a fool of herself in some other way with him.
It seemed the best thing for her to do when she reached the top was to lock herself in her room with a book—rude or not—and try to put Donovan Chance out of her mind. While she was in there, it wouldn’t hurt her to do some thinking about her true feelings for Bryan. After all, she’d come here to consider marrying him—only to find herself inordinately fascinated by his best friend.
Definitely