Free Over the Line by Emmy Curtis Page A

the back of a silk-covered chaise longue. “So maybe a real fiancée would have stayed, if only to experience all this.” She winked at him.
    “Something tells me that you’re not that easily impressed.” He smiled back as he opened the collar of his shirt. “Wanna go swimming?”
    “Do we have time?” Beth said, eyeing her bags of purchases, wondering where the white swimsuit was.
    “I suspect something will be planned tonight, and frankly, with all the work being done on the grounds, it might be as well to lay low.”
    “You don’t have to ask me twice. I just need to find my swimsuit.”
    “Okay, let me get changed and I’ll meet you out there.” He disappeared into what she could see was a marble bathroom, and she looked around for a second, and then threw herself onto the bed. It was like floating on a cloud. Talk about pillow top.
    She stared at the dip-dyed material hanging from the ceiling and wondered what kind of person she’d be if she really was marrying James, and really was going to live in this world full of servants and maids. Would she be different?
    Ha. No way.

Chapter Seven
    James came out of the bathroom and did a double take when he saw Beth out of the corner of his eye, lying arms and legs splayed out on the bed. Just the sight of her there made him hesitate, even though she was fully dressed and obviously thinking about something else.
    He loosened the waist of his swim shorts, trying to think about baseball and a list of American presidents. In reverse order. But he couldn’t take his eyes off her. He wanted her so fucking badly. Now that he knew how her lips tasted, how her skin quivered under his touch, it was agony waiting to touch her again.
    He dragged his gaze back to the main room and decided that if he couldn’t seduce her here, he’d never be able to seduce her.
    He left the door to the pool house open and dived into the clear water. He figured a loud splash would tell her the bathroom was clear. He took long strokes down the length of the pool, counting every stroke and every breath. Emptying his mind of everything except the strain of his muscles and the feel of cutting through the water. It worked for a while, but gradually, strands of Sadie’s and Maisie’s e-mails wove their way through his consciousness, until they were all he could think about. Why would anyone send them quasi-threatening e-mails? How would someone even get their e-mail addresses? The family was so security conscious, it was impossible to imagine anyone could even find them.
    He finished a length underwater and his head popped up at her end of the pool, just as she left the house.
    Jesus. Shit. Fuck. Obama, Bush, Clinton, Bush, Reagan…
    The white swimsuit wrapped around her every curve. She looked like a 1950s movie star, hair wound up high on her head and huge sunglasses hiding her beautiful eyes.
    “I had no idea you could hold your breath that long, airman,” she virtually purred. In reality, she probably sounded exactly the same as usual, but he couldn’t help but imbue his own fantasy on her.
    Bush, Reagan, Carter, Ford, Nixon.
    She took off her shades and dropped them on one of the double loungers positioned right outside the room. She stood at the edge of the concrete, wriggling her feet so her toes were hanging over the edge. He pulled his hands off the side of the pool and watched as she did a perfect toe touch before diving into the pool.
    By the time she surfaced, all he saw was her bottom bobbing as she powered through the water. Shit. Why was her strength, and ability to do just about anything, such a turn-on for him? Every other woman he’d dated in the past ten years had been slight, tiny, and in need of being looked after. Why was he so into Beth? He was going to be a walking hard-on for three days. It was going to be some kind of sweet hell.
    After doing a professional-looking flip-turn at the far end, she lazily backstroked her way back up toward him, stopping just short and