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wheel. So intent was she on her goal that she did not hear the noises at the poolside.
    After six laps at full speed, she had had enough. She coasted the last few feet to the deepest end and, using her forward momentum, vaulted up and out, to stand dripping on the concrete. She had landed again in the pool of moonlight, feeling exhilarated, reaching back into her primeval past to become one with nature.
    She turned back to the edge of the pool, a silver sprite, curling her toes again over the edge of the apron and leaning slightly forward. And then froze in startled shock as two huge masculine hands wrapped themselves around her from the rear, treasuring her tiny breasts and pulling her back against the hard masculine figure behind her.
    The shock was momentary, her reaction instant. Without a pause to enquire she pulled herself forward into a shallow racing dive, and hit the water with a splash, tipping the man behind her into the pool. The hands slackened their grip almost instantly. She used the moment to race away to the shallow end of the pool, barely escaping his clutching fingers. No sooner had she hurtled herself out of the water than the man, fully clothed, managed the same feat.
    ‘Now that was a devil of a thing to do,’ Harry King mourned at her. ‘Look at my new suit!’ He was busy stripping it from him before she could make up her mind what to do next. Her mind said run! Surely no man with his trousers half off could catch a woman who wore only moonbeams? But her body disregarded the order. Her own body held her in thrall, prisoner to the rapidly denuded male figure, whose every attractive inch sparkled in the moonlight.
    ‘Well, you deserved it,’ she snapped at him. ‘You— you’re like an octopus, Harry King. And what are you doing here? You’re supposed to be in Atlanta with Eloise!’ Her eyes swivelled wildly, spotting the towels she had dropped. Her feet carried her in their direction. He followed, snatching one of them up before she could claim it for protection.
    ‘But I’m not, and you’re glad,’ he returned. ‘You’ve been sitting up waiting for me to come back, and here I am. Lucky you!’
    ‘Lucky me?’ she squeaked. ‘I never had it so good, caught out with a man with no clothes on? Just what in the world do you think you’re doing, Mr King?’ It was hard to keep her voice cool and decisive. Especially since he had picked up the other towel and was advancing on her.
    ‘Why, I’m just drying you off,’ he said solemnly. ‘Why do you always put the worst possible interpretation on everything I do?’ He had completely enveloped her now, wrapping her tightly in the huge red towel, and sealing her in with the strength of his arms. For just a moment she relaxed, pleased beyond words to be in that shelter. And then her conscience began to niggle at her, and she tried to fight her way out.
    ‘Hey,’ he laughed, ‘calm down. I’m only drying you off.’ And it was true that his hands were gently rubbing her down, through the heavy fibre of the towel. But there were too many gaps where the towel did not fit, and where his hands continued to wander.
    ‘Stop that! At once!’ she hissed at him. ‘At once!’
    ‘Of course,’ he said, but his hands kept wandering.
    ‘Stop that!’ she half-screamed at him. But even as she voiced the wish, her mind told her it was not what she wanted. The towel had disappeared, and his steel arms were pressing her against his hard frame, her breasts crushed against his ribs, his hands wandering up and down her back, pressing her even closer. And every movement sent storm signals up her spine. ‘Stop that,’ she whispered against the tough skin over his heart, knowing that he couldn’t hear, but protesting anyway, for the sake of her conscience. He pushed her slightly away, far enough so he could look down at her face, not so far that their hips broke contact.
    ‘What’s that?’ he chuckled. ‘You don’t even know what you want, do