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racing back toward the lake. She ran through the shallow bits

and dove, disappearing without so much as a splash. She

resurfaced quite a distance from where she’d gone under.

Claire had to admit Haley was a good swimmer. She wasn’t

lying about that.

She threw her hands on her hips. “I’m not backing down on

this and I’m not supervising you. Get back to the beach.”

“And if I don’t?” Haley lazily circled on her back.

The air heated in Claire’s lungs. Her breathing was a mess.

It was all she could do not to gulp down oxygen. The heat was

anger, she reasoned, from having to deal with an impertinent

girl who should know better than a five-year-old, when she

had better things to be doing. She realized she was grasping

her hands into fists on her hips, and she relaxed them, then

dropped them altogether. She didn’t like tells.

She’d like to see if Haley was so cocky spread out on her

desk or some other hard surface. What would she look like

coming apart?

Not yours. Not for you. Never for you. You promised.

Claire needed to get out of there, but she was caught

between leaving to settle down the rioting emotions she

couldn’t control and staying to make a point. She was

frustrated. She didn’t like being frustrated. She stamped her

foot in the sand. “Get back to the beach now. Or I will make

good on my promise to hire someone to watch you and prevent

you from doing stupid things.”

“Well, you did say that if I was supervised, I could swim.

Go ahead. Hire someone. Make them nice. Also, if you can get

someone less aggressive looking than Jenny, but just as ferally

hot, that would be cool.”