He counted twenty laps before she stopped, and wondered how many she’d completed before he’d come down. It seemed to him as if she swam to drain herself of some tension or sorrow, and that with each lap she’d come closer to succeeding. Waiting, he watched her tip her head back in the water so that her hair slicked back. The marks on her neck had faded. As she stood, water skimmed her thigh.

“I’ve never seen you relaxed,” Jonas commented. But even as he said the words, he could see her muscles tense again. She turned away from her contemplation of the mountains and looked at him.

He was tired, she realized, and wondered if she should have seen it before. There was a weariness around his eyes that hadn’t been there that morning. He hadn’t changed his clothes, and had his hands tucked into the pockets of bone-colored slacks. She wondered if he’d been up to the suite at all.

“I didn’t bring a suit with me.” Liz pushed against the side of the pool and hitched herself out. Water rained from her. “I charged this one to the room.”

The thighs were cut nearly to the waist. Jonas caught himself wondering just how the skin would feel there. “It’s nice.”

Liz picked up her towel. “It was expensive.”

He only lifted a brow. “I could deduct it from the rent.”

Her lips curved a little as she rubbed her hair dry. “No, you can’t. But since you’re a lawyer, I imagine you can find a way to deduct it from something else. I saved the receipt.”

He hadn’t thought he could laugh. “I appreciate it. You know, I get the impression you don’t think much of lawyers.”

Something came and went in her eyes. “I try not to think of them at all.”

Taking the towel from her, he gently dried her face. “Faith’s father’s a lawyer?”

Without moving, she seemed to shift away from him. “Leave it alone, Jonas.”

“You don’t.”

“Actually I do, most of the time. Maybe it’s been on my mind the past few weeks, but that’s my concern.”

He draped the towel around her shoulders and, holding the ends, drew her closer. “I’d like you to tell me about it.”

It was his voice, she thought, so calm, so persuasive, that nearly had her opening both mind and heart. She could almost believe as she looked at him that he really wanted to know, to understand. The part of her that was already in love with him needed to believe he might care. “Why?”

“I don’t know. Maybe it’s that look that comes into your eyes. It makes a man want to stroke it away.”

Her chin came up a fraction. “There’s no need to feel sorry for me.”