Darcy joined me, laughing. “Yes, I’m afraid California is never noted for its warm water,” he said. “Even in summer.”

“I think I’ve changed my mind about swimming,” I said.

“Where’s that rugged Scottish blood, Georgiana Rannoch?” Without hesitation he dived into an oncoming wave. Of course after that I could hardly back out. I took a deep breath and plunged in after him. A large wave broke over me, submerging me whether I wanted it or not and tumbling me over and over. I felt Darcy’s hand gripping my arm and pulling me to the surface. “Sorry, I should probably have warned you that the waves can be rather fierce too. But good for bodysurfing.”

“How do you do that?”

He dove into a breaking wave and rode it into the shore. “Like that.”

I wasn’t quite as successful, but I think I got the hang of it after a while. When we rode a powerful wave in together and it ended by flinging us up onto the beach we lay there gasping, side by side. Then before I could recover Darcy turned to me, swept me into his arms and started kissing me. His lips felt cold and salty and the salt tingled on my body as it dried in the sun. Waves rushed in past us and receded again, but I was only conscious of his body pressing against mine, his lips crushing mine, his tongue in my mouth. Oh golly, I wanted him badly. I had never felt a surge of desire like this. I had never known such desire to be possible.

Who knows what this might have led to but a loud honking and catcalls from the road above revealed that we were all too visible to passing motorcars. We broke apart, with a guilty smile. Darcy helped me up and hand in hand we went back to our towels. I wrapped my towel around me and sat there, watching him as he stood there, his dark hair tousled by sea and sand. I took in every inch of him, the muscular chest with just a little dark hair in the middle, the slim waist and then the bathing trunks below it. I think my eyes lingered there longer than they should. I looked up to find him eyeing me with amusement, and I blushed.

“I’ll open the champers, shall I?” he asked, reaching into the bag and not waiting for a reply. He poured two glasses and sat beside me against a large boulder. It was warm in the sun and smelled of the sea. Darcy raised his glass to me. “To us,” he whispered. “Hoping it won’t be too long.”

“Amen to that,” I said, clinking glasses with him.

We sipped and he laughed. “I think you’re actually quite a hot little piece, Miss Georgie,” he said. “There is something of your mother in you after all.”