Page 65 of The Lost Heiress

She pulled her T-shirt off over her head. She had a plain black one-piece on underneath. She was toned and lean and had more of an athletic build—straight with muted curves.

Ransom got out of the tube and held it out for her near the stairs as Ana waded into the shallow end.

“All yours,” he said.

“What a gentleman,” Ana said.

He helped her into it and then hung on to one end as she floated. Together, they drifted slowly across the pool.

“Is that what you normally read?” Ransom asked, nodding toward the book on her sun lounger. “Romance novels?”

“I read all sorts of things,” Ana said.

“So what’s your favorite book?” Ransom asked.

“Judy Blume’sAre You There, God? It’s Me, Margaret,” Ana said without hesitation.

“A children’s book?” Ransom asked.

“It’s not just a children’s book,” Ana said. “It’s the first book I remember reading that I completely lost myself in. My cousin lent it to me. She was a few years older than me, and she was obsessed with it, and I wanted to be just like her, so I read it too. And I just—I’d never had an experience like that before. Reading that book, it was like someone was in my head. They had written down my thoughts. My fears. My inhibitions. Everything I was insecure about or wondered about. I felt ... understood in a way I hadn’t before. Like, maybe I wasn’t as weird or strange as I thought I might be. Maybe there were other people out there who were going through something similar. What about you?” Ana asked.

“The Fountainhead,” Ransom said.

Ana made a buzzer sound, like he had answered incorrectly.

“What?” Ransom asked.

“The Fountainheadis not your favorite book,” Ana said.

“Yes, it is.”

“No, it’s not,” Ana said. “This is not a college application or a formal interview where you have to impress me with how smart and well read you are. I want your real, human answer. If you were stranded on a desert island and there was only one book you could have with you that you would have to read over and over again for the rest of your life, what would it be?”

Ransom thought for a moment. “StillThe Fountainhead,” he said.

“Unbelievable.”

“I didn’t give you a hard time about your favorite book,” Ransom said.

“Yes, you did. You called it a children’s book.”

“To be fair, itisa children’s book,” Ransom said. “But you chose that book because of how it made you feel, and I respect that. I choseThe Fountainheadbecause of how it makes me think. If I could only read one book for the rest of my life, it would be one full of ideas and moral complexity.”

“Fine,” Ana said, after thinking a moment. “I concede thatThe Fountainheadis a legitimate choice for your favorite book, and I’m sorry for mocking you.”

“Thank you,” Ransom said.

“You’ve really motored us a long way from where we started,” Ana said, glancing around them. “Are we in the deep end now?”

“Yes,” Ransom said.

“In all seriousness,” Ana said, “please don’t tip me over. I can’t actually swim.”

“What?”

“I can’t swim,” Ana repeated.

“Then what are you doing in the pool?” Ransom asked.