Chapter 52
It was a silly, playful kiss that he planted on her nose, a get-out that she should have been grateful for but the disappointment stung with a deep resonance.
She had wanted him to kiss her so badly it hurt.
"You ain't mad at me?" he checked.
Could he see the torment in her eyes? She could only shake her head dumbly.
"This thing ain't gonna shrink?"
He pulled gently at the fine, muslin cotton that drifted between them in the water.
"It's a family heirloom, Dempsey. It belonged to my great grandmother. It was given to her by a Swami priest during her time in India."
It wasn't hard to keep her expression deadpan under the circumstances but the look of horror in Dempsey's eyes, albeit fleeting, quickly brought up a choke of laughter from her throat.
"It was off a market in Morocco and cost the equivalent of roughly a pound," she laughed.
The broadest of grins split his face with merriment and his eyes crinkled up at the corners in the way that Harry loved.
Coupled with that exposed gap between his front teeth, it conveyed his inner happiness, a truly visible sign that his laughter was carefree and halcyon.
It made her light headed to see.
"Real funny. Wouldn't of expected Lady Harriet to be walkin' around in rags though."
"Rags!" she gasped indignantly.
She was shivering a little bit now. It wasn't so much the temperature of the sea as the thrill of being held so intimately by Dempsey. Her fingers itched to tease down the back of his neck where her hand was fastened but she daren't move. If she turned herself just a few inches to the right, they would be chest against chest, practically naked and she certainly couldn't cope with what was happening out of sight beneath the water.
So she moved away, not far, just out of the deep waters where she no longer needed to tread water. But it was far enough to break any physical contact. She felt his loss immediately as the cold water bit into the right side of her body.
"This really isn't much fun," she grimaced. "It's bloody cold."
Dempsey's hand snaked out and she felt a slight tug as his fingers played with a floating length of the blue sarong.
"Soooooo…" He was still smiling only now there was a glint in his eye. "I know a way to get you warmed up."
"So do I, Dempsey. It's called sunbathing."
He moved around her, still holding onto the thin cloth. "I was thinking something a little more… physical."
She frowned, trying to appear cross. What if he actually meant it this time? What if it wasn't just innuendo? She knew he was definitely turned on enough to put it into practice.
She looked down at his hand holding onto the sarong as it waved in the water, feigning just a tad of annoyance.
"How's your technique, Princess?"
Slowly, she lifted her eyes to meet his amused gaze. She knew there was a punchline coming but his words still had the power to make her body tingle with anticipation.
"Whatever it is you're talking about, I'm sure you're going to offer to help me improve upon it."
"I don't know, maybe you could teach me a thing or two."
"Come on then, out with it."
Dempsey shaded his eyes and pointed out to sea.
"See that rock over there?"
Harry found it. "Yes."
"I'll race ya. First one there and back again and on dry land, wins."
"Wins what?" she asked, unfazed by the suggestion.
He looked back over his shoulder at the beach and then looked her dead in the eye. "Whatever the winner wants."
Seeming to mull the idea over for a few seconds, she finally answered. "Alright. You're on."
Dempsey was taken by surprise, she could tell but she was a strong swimmer and felt confident that she could beat him quite comfortably with that shoulder, not to mention his hand.
"Just like that?" he asked.
"Just like that," she confirmed.
"Without even asking what I want?"
Harry treated him to a most withering look. "It really doesn't matter what you want because you're not going to win."
He laughed delightedly. "Whoa! Misplaced confidence. I like it. So you gonna tell me what it is you want?"
"I'll decide whilst I'm lying on my towel waiting for you."
"'less you've grown a pretty little mermaid tail under this thing, babe…" he pulled playfully on the wrap, "I'm gonna leave you dead in the water."
"That's a particularly unfortunate turn of phrase, given the reason for us being on this beach in the first place."
A length of the wrap was stretched out between them and if Dempsey tugged any harder it would come untucked quite easily. It occurred to her then that she wouldn't be able to swim with it swathed about her like this, swirling around her thighs and restricting her movements.
"I suppose I'd better ditch it somewhere then, hadn't I?"
Dempsey was torn now between letting her get out of the water to discard the wrap, thus getting an eyeful of that bikini-clad body on her return or…
He pulled down firmly and the wrap that was secured between her breasts finally gave way.
"Allow me," he said gallantly, peeling the sopping wet cloth free.
She didn't object as he unwound it from about her body, noting how carefully he avoided touching her skin. No doubt he was playing it safe but it felt like torture to Harry as she stood there so exposed to his scrutiny.
And scrutinizing her he was although she could tell he wasn't aware of what he was doing.
"Dempsey?"
She snapped her fingers and he immediately looked up with the soggy sarong in his hands.
"What do you propose doing with it now?" she asked, picturing his trek back up the beach with it.
"Target practice," he said.
Before she could query this, he ducked under the water and came back up holding a handful of the large flat pebbles which he proceeded to tie up inside the sarong.
"Oh, very clever," Harry laughed as Dempsey backed up to allow himself room to swing the package of stones around his head.
"Clever 'idea'," he corrected. "Dunno how good my aim is. You might wanna…" He let go and they watched it sail across the beach, though landing several feet short of its intended target of Harry's peach coloured towel.
She folded her arms across her chest, head on one side.
"Hmm. Not bad. It could catch on I think, Dempsey. Beach Slingshot!"
"Yeah, well with the way I threw that, they'd need to hold the tournaments on a desert island."
He turned back to Harry, deliberately keeping his eyes on her face when he said, "I like your bathing suit," his easy smile challenging her to find fault with this matter of fact statement.
"Thank you," she acknowledged with gracious innocence, fully aware of what was really going on in his mind.
They shared the same knowing smile.
"So," Harry said, "we swim out to that rock and back and then it's the first on the towel who's the winner?"
"That's about the size of it. You ready?"
"Question is though, Dempsey – are you?"
He chuckled, turning to face the rock out at sea. "Baby, I was born ready."
"On the count of three then. One…" Harry began, unfolding her arms.
"Two…" counted Dempsey, unable to resist a quick glance her way.
"Three!" they said in unison, both of them plunging forward off the shelf, Harry immediately settling into a steady front crawl and he starting out with a powerful breast stroke.
His style soon deteriorated though as the pain in his shoulder got the better of him and he too took up a scrawl stroke instead.
He was trailing her by approximately six feet and couldn't seem to catch her up.
It was literally only a four minute swim to the rock but Dempsey expected some kind of recognition of her achievement in beating him to it. However, no sooner had her fingertips touched a side of the black outcropping than she was turning back on herself and pushing off with her feet to begin the return swim.
She was taking this seriously. Well then, so was he.
Launching himself from the rock, he gained on her rapidly and by half way, they were level pegging.
Now he had her, just so long as his shoulder didn't give out on him. He was anticipating the shooting pain with every lift of his right arm but was determined to carry on through it. He wasn't about to lose to Harry; he'd never hear the last of it. Besides, it was sharpening his focus, making his goal more attainable. His hand was a real hindrance though, couldn't straighten it out enough to get his execution right.
Harry was first back to the shore and scrambled up out of the water to splash through the shallows and onto the beach. He could hear her panting hard as he threw himself after her, now only a couple of feet behind.
"Right behind ya, Tiger," he called, panting himself.
Harry had taken the direct route right across the beach and was stumbling over the shifting pebbles, her high pitched laughter infectious to his ears and spurring him on – that and the sight of her incredibly sexy, barely clothed body in front of him.
"Not fast enough," she cried.
She almost fell as her left foot skidded out from under her but she put both hands out to save herself, scrabbling to stand upright again and giggling like Dempsey had never heard before.
He reached a hand out to grab at her ankle but missed, completely distracted by her pert rear end practically in his face.
"That's just cost ya the race, babe!"
But now Dempsey was sliding all over the place too. Trying to run on this unstable surface was a joke, a hilariously funny joke that was cracking the pair of them up as they struggled to get anywhere.
"Don't think so, action man."
Harry wanted so much to check his progress over her shoulder but knew it could lose her valuable seconds. But more than this, she wanted to see his face, to actually see him laughing as exuberantly as the sound seemed to suggest.
They were nearly there, within feet of the clean yellow sand, the bank of rocks and shallow rock pools and the peach towel laid out like a winner's podium.
She felt his hand brush down the back of her upper arm as he made another grab for her, trying to slow her down.
"Cheats never prosper," she shrieked, leaping across to the sandy area.
"Yeah?" he puffed. "Watch me."
He took another swipe at her as he followed her onto the sand, this time his fingers curving around her waist before slipping away again.
"Oh no you don't," Harry squealed, getting all out of step because she was laughing so much.
She was only twenty feet away from her towel but her legs just weren't doing what they were told any more.
Dempsey though was struggling with his shoulder again. Although the repetitive motion of swimming had smarted, the water must have gone some way to supporting the muscles because now, arms pumping, he was feeling a searing burn right through his shoulder that spread itself out along his whole right side. His hand too felt somewhat disengaged from the rest of him, like he was carrying around a cartoon lump hammer on the end of his arm. But to some extent, he managed to shut it out, his mind on the towel and winning the race, his eyes on Harry and winning her over.
Three feet away.
He was right behind her.
But if he wasn't in front, he wasn't going to win.
"No way," he shouted, the thrill of the chase pumping a shot of adrenaline straight to his heart. He whooped loudly in anticipation of his victory as he made a dive for her, his left arm wrapping around her thighs and pulling her down in a perfect tackle.
She squawked loudly in protest at his rough tactics and tried to twist away as she fell. Consequently, Dempsey found himself in the sublime position of having the gorgeous Makepeace's posterior slammed into his face. The pity was that all this happened in one, short, flowing movement and no sooner had he recognised the fact that they were cheek to cheek than they were sliding full length through the air.
They hit the ground in a raucous gale of laughter, or rather, Dempsey hit the ground and Harry was dragged down on top of him, one arm across her stomach and the other diagonally across her chest.
"You're such a cheat, Dempsey!"
She lay in his arms for a moment, her whole body convulsed with laughter.
"How can I of cheated when we didn't set no ground rules?" he objected, happy to endure the agony of her weight pressing into his shoulder so long as it meant he got to soak up the warmth of her smooth, damp flesh.
"There are always rules," she laughed in a mocking tone, moving her head to look at him as she slid away discreetly.
"But you should know by now I never play by them." Dempsey turned onto his side so that he was leaning over her, their bodies still in contact as he looked into her eyes.
"I know you don't," she whispered, feeling his fingertips glide over her stomach. "It gets quite confusing at times."
He couldn't stop himself; it was just something that was meant to be. With his hand still resting flat upon her stomach, he lowered his head.
Oh Jeezaz, those eyes! It was like falling into the sea all over again looking into those blue eyes of hers.
"Harry…"
It came out dry and rasping and was a waste of breath anyway because he had nothing else to say. He was lost for words.
Drawing back a fraction, he allowed his eyes to roam her body, luxuriating in each curve and hollow, desperately needing to touch and longing to taste every inch of her skin.
He slid his hand to her hip and traced along the edge of her bikini bottoms, dipping down and gliding over her flank. He watched, mesmerised as Harry raised her knee, giving him permission to continue his passage.
As he smoothed his hand around her right buttock, feeling the wet, stretchy fabric that clung tight, he didn't think he'd be able to put the brakes on this time if she didn't stop him.
His eyes travelled steadily back along her torso, taking in everything; her slender waist and that sexy midriff, the gentle rise of her breasts, the nipples, perky within the confines of the blue and white halter neck bikini top. Looking down on her, seawater dripped from the curling tendrils of his hair and splashed against her stomach. As they hit he saw the muscles of her abdomen contract.
The droplets rolled together to pool into her navel and glinted like a large diamond in the sunlight. Barely considering what he was doing, he let his hand follow his eyes, up her ribcage and across her stomach where he framed the sparkling pool with finger and thumb before continuing upwards.
Any second now she would pull away, scarring him with some cutting jibe designed to scorn his advances. How was she to know that his hands were only acting on what was present in his heart? Harry wouldn't see the connection and who could blame her when he'd never given her any reason to believe he would think of her as anything more than a high end conquest. She probably didn't even believe him capable of loving a woman.
'Don't you dare stop' Harry whispered inside her head.
She felt herself floating above the towel as though part of some sophisticated conjuring trick. And being an illusion, there would be strings attached. But she couldn't feel then, didn't want to feel them. She was bound to him and however Dempsey chose to utilize those invisible strings, she knew she was his puppet now.
As his hand moved up her ribcage, he finally brought his eyes to hers, knowing that he had to see her reaction (whatever that might be) when he rose up over her breast.
She gasped quietly, the arching of her spine and the hand cupped to the back of his head telling him everything he needed to know.
And then that sweet, perfect moment was his.
Those plush, ripened lips parted and he slowly, tentatively grazed his mouth upon them.
It felt like bubbles bursting inside his soul.
The world around them shut down and their own private world suddenly opened up.
The kiss was so incredibly tender to begin with, bordering on delicate but it couldn't possibly last in such an innocent guise and their mouths grew hungry.
Harry pulled him down closer with her other arm now looped up around his back, her hips pushing upwards to cradle his burgeoning desire for her.
The delicacy had given way to voracity and the depth of the kiss spread through their bodies as their limbs melded together. The ambient warmth of the early evening encapsulated them in a hazy kind of limbo where words were superfluous and Harry could readily believe that what she felt coming from him was the reflection of her own wildly inconceivable love for her partner.
She opened her eyes with a smile when Dempsey drew his lips away. The frown he wore surprised her although not as much as his next words.
"I'm sorry, Harry. I can't do this."
