It doesn’t look better, Cole thought. The bruises were dark-purple and green swatches on the fragile satin surface of her skin. In spite of his intentions to remain neutral during this swim, he couldn’t resist a touch.

His fingertips feathered the darkest spot on her shoulder and then traced a path through the droplets of water clinging to her skin.

Debbie shivered. Cole jerked his hand back.

“Cold?” He had a remedy for that, but he didn’t think she was up to it.

“Not really,” she said. “Just…oh, I don’t know…I guess I’ve got the willies.”

He laughed unexpectedly, lustily. “You have the most unique repertoire of euphemisms I’ve ever heard.”

Debbie grinned. “Have I just been made fun of? Surely you jest. I can’t believe that you’ve never heard of the willies.”

Cole splashed her lightly, playfully responding to her attack on his command of the English language.

“You show me the definition in Webster’s dictionary, and I’ll…I’ll cook dinner tomorrow. What exactly are…willies?”

Debbie cupped her hands, scooped up a handful of water, and let it trickle sensuously through her fingers onto his broad chest. When it had run its course, she took the palms of her hands and traced the water’s path down his belly.

“My God,” Cole whispered as he slowly turned to jelly.

Debbie sighed. Her dark eyes shadowed with barely disguised desire as she ran her fingernail lightly against the tan skin of his forearm. And then she pointed.

“Look,” she urged.

His eyes followed the path her hands were taking. And when he saw her pointing to his arm, he got the message. He was solid goosebumps, and it had nothing to do with being cold. He was hot from the inside out.

“Those, my brilliant detective, are willies.” Her fingertip was squarely atop a patch of goosebumps. “In fact, if I do say so myself, you’ve got a marvelous case of them.”

Cole cleared his throat twice before he could speak. “So, Doc, if I’ve got them, what’s my cure?”

The water’s pull kept urging her back into depths over her head. He watched, fascinated as her slender body kept bobbing lightly up and down while she tried to maintain footing in the pool. Impulse sent his arms around her as he began moving them into deeper waters.

“Oh, Cole,” Debbie teased, laughing and spitting water as he pushed her deeper and deeper into the pool until she was only afloat by holding onto his shoulders. “I’m afraid there’s no cure.”

He frowned. He could have told her that.

“But,” she continued, enjoying their little game, “there’s a very successful treatment.” Her eyes were dancing by this time as she locked her arms around his neck and wrapped her legs around his waist to stay above water. “And you’re in luck.”