“Maybe she’s just a bitch,” Cara suggested.
“And if she is Madeline Burch?”
“I’m still not sure why she would go through all that trouble, but it couldn’t hurt to look into it. I’ll see what I can dig up from my old contacts.”
“I’ll try the internet.”
“Give me a couple of days and I’ll get back to you.”
After they hung up, Rowena logged on to Google to see what she could find about Madeline, but there was virtually no information about her after the incident at Woodlawn Academy, when she had attacked a student who called her a liar and a freak. When Rowena did a similar search on Angelica Pierce, the woman didn’t seem to exist before her college days.
When Betty knocked on the door at nine, Rowena still hadn’t found anything useful.
She shot a quick email to Cara explaining what she had—or more specifically hadn’t—found, then headed down to the pool. She was so wrapped up in her own thoughts, she almost didn’t notice the faint outline of someone sitting in a chaise—Colin’s chaise. It was unlikely that anyone but him would be out there, and even more unlikely that someone else would pick that exact same chair to sit in. And despite his chilly greeting that morning, it would be rude not to go over and say hello.
As she drew closer, she could see that his head had lolled slightly to one side and his eyes were closed, his breathing slow and deep. Cupped in his hands and resting in his lap was a large mug of what looked like brewed tea. Not the smartest place to hold a hot drink. Suppose when she dove in, the splash startled him and it spilled? He could do some serious damage.
“Colin?” she said softly so she wouldn’t alarm him, but he didn’t budge. He looked so peaceful. Maybe she didn’t have to wake him; maybe if she just took the cup and set it on the table…
She reached down, never imagining that she would have her hands quite this close to his crotch tonight. Or any night.
Very gently, using the tips of her fingers, she clutched the cup by the rim and began to gingerly lift it from his lap. She’d lifted about six inches when she glanced up to his face. His eyes were open and looking at her.
*
As cold tea soaked his trousers, Colin belatedly realized that until Rowena had gotten the cup a safe distance from his crotch, he should have kept his eyes closed. But when a man dreamed he was with a woman, then opened his eyes to find her hand an inch from his fly, it was tough not to watch the action. And for several tense seconds, it wasn’t the cup he thought she was reaching for.
“Oh, my God. I am so sorry,” Rowena said, looking as though she wasn’t sure if she should laugh or cry. “I can’t believe I just did that. Please tell me that wasn’t hot.”
He set the cup on the ground beside him. “It was rather cold, actually.”
She winced, “I didn’t…damage anything down there, did I?”
He’d managed to catch the cup just in time. “Everything down there is fine.”
She handed him her towel. “I don’t know how much help this will be.”
He pushed himself out of the chair, leaning over to inspect the front of his pants, then handed the towel back. “I think it’s pretty hopeless at this point.”
“For the record, I was moving it because I thought it might spill. And yes, I get the irony.”
What tea hadn’t soaked into the linen went straight through to his Skivvies. “The staff is going to think I’m off my rocker. Walking in one night in dripping-wet clothes, the next looking as if I soiled myself.”
She bit her lip, probably to keep from laughing, then said, “I could run up to your room and get you clean pants. Or you could borrow some swim trunks. There are always extras in the pool house. There’s bound to be something that fits.”
The last thing he needed was her father possibly seeing her walking in or out of his suite. At least here, by the pool, no one could see them. Not without leaving the mansion, which no one seemed to do after dark. “Swim trunks will be fine.”
“Let’s go look.”
She rushed to the pool house, opened the door and switched on the lights. In the dark it had looked as if she was wearing a dress. Now he realized it was a cover-up, and underneath she wore…well, hello there, bikini. He wondered if she had worn that purposely, in case he happened to be at the pool again. Didn’t matter either way. She was off-limits.
“There’s a shelf in the bathroom with extra suits,” she told him. “Take whatever you need.”
Colin found a pair of trunks close to his size and pulled them off the shelf. He peeled off his wet slacks and boxer briefs, noticing, as the cold wet fabric touched the top of his legs, that the tails of his shirt hadn’t been spared, either. He took that off, too, and pulled the suit on. When he stepped out of the bathroom, Rowena was standing in the kitchen, bent over, looking in the refrigerator with her back to him. The cover-up was hiked up to reveal the very smooth curve of her behind and the backs of her creamy thighs.