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He soared out over the river in an impressive arc and hit the surface with roughly the force of a boulder.

Ellie spluttered against the tidal wave, which forced her to slightly increase her height in the water.

Bates surfaced, shaking his head like a wet dog.

“Oh yeah,” he said with obvious relish. “That feels great.”

“You can’t justcome in herelike that!” Ellie exclaimed.

“We’re outside, Princess,” Bates returned easily.

He was taller than her. With his feet in the muddy bottom of the river, the water came roughly to the bottom of his ribcage.

Ellie was able to make this measurement with greater accuracy as he promptly yanked his shirt over his head, exposing an alarming and entirely indecent expanse of chiseled male flesh.

The move was so shocking, Ellie nearly sank.

Bates gave the garment a peremptory shake in the water—clearly constituting his notion of a wash—and tossed it back onto the deck of the boat in a wadded-up ball.

All of him was tanned—the broad line of his shoulders, the rigid planes of his chest, the well-muscled curve of his arms.

The man must not generally bother with a shirt. Restraining himself to merely rolling up his sleeves since they had left town must have been a concession to Ellie’s feminine sensibilities.

Sensibilities that he had clearly decided to blow to tiny pieces this morning.

Bates flopped into the water with another splash. He drifted into a lazy backstroke as though their situation did not disconcert him in the least.

“I was in the middle of a bath.” Ellie iced her voice with disapproval. “Not that it bloody well stopped youlasttime.”

“Trust me, Princess,” he called over to her. “If I don’t find a place to rinse off every couple of days, I start to offend myself. You’ll be glad I did this.”

Ellie absorbed this explanation and found it all too horribly plausible.

She pulled herself over to the boat, more than ready to get back into her clothes and out of this mortifying situation… and realized that she hadn’t the foggiest idea how to get back on board. TheMary Leehad a relatively shallow draft, but the top of the rail was just above her reach.

If she swam around to the far side, she could scale the roots protruding from the clay bank and hop into the boat from there. She’d probably get a bit muddied again in the process, but that was nothing she couldn’t fix with a scoop of water—and at least Bates wouldn’t be treated to an intimate view of her backside as she managed it.

Ellie started to paddle that way, pushing against the bottom with her toes.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Bates called over.

“I am hardly going to climb up this way withyouhere,” Ellie retorted.

“Water snakes like close spaces,” he replied. “Between the boat and the bank is just the sort of spot you’d find one.”

“I assure you, I’ll be careful,” she shot back coolly.

There was a slosh as Bates dropped from his backstroke and came upright in the water once more.

“They don’t care how careful you are,” he drawled as he moved closer.

She stumbled back from him a step, but he made no move toward her. Instead, he reached up, and with his longer arms and height, he easily grasped the rail. The muscles in his shoulders bunched as he hauled himself up and swung gracefully over the side.

His wet trousers clung to him mercilessly. Ellie stared with an unwelcome fascination—then dipped back down to chin-level in the water as he leaned over the side, extending his arm.

“Let me give you a lift,” he said.

“I don’t think that’s a very good idea,” Ellie quickly replied.