“There you are,” she murmured, approaching cautiously, leaning forward, casting a suspicious eye on the strangely shaped thing that showed no signs of life. Her stomach tightened with dread. “Please don’t be a rabbit. Or a squirrel. Or a-”

Boot.

Victoria straightened as if a plank had been shoved down her drawers. Hastening forward to investigate, she discovered it was not a single boot, but a pair of boots. Lying atop a sloppily folded pile of clothing. There was no doubt to whom it all belonged. She’d recognize Nathan’s worn boots and fawn breeches anywhere. And if his clothes were here, that meant he was…

Naked.

Whoosh. A flash of heat engulfed her. He’d told her of his fondness for swimming in the lake. Clearly he’d done so, for she sincerely doubted he was searching for the jewels while…

Naked.

Crouching down, she peered through the dense foliage toward the lake. The water resembled a sheet of blue glass, absorbing the brilliant orange and red reflections of the setting sun on its pristine surface. No sign of him. Drat! Er, excellent. She could scamper off undetected. Her gaze fell to the pile of clothing and she pursed her lips. Hmmmm…

She cast a quick look all around, verifying she was alone, then looked again at his clothing, which seemed to silently chant Take me, take me.

Oh, but she couldn’t. Could she? Some imp inside her told her she most certainly could. He was accustomed to such games-indeed he’d confessed to playing them during his youth. When on earth would she ever be presented with such an opportunity again? Never. Practically chortling with glee, she quickly gathered up the bundle, then stood. After casting one last look toward the lake to make certain Nathan wasn’t approaching the shore, she turned. And froze.

Nathan stood before her. Nathan, dripping wet, his skin glistening, rivulets of water trailing down his body-

Holy. Saints. Above.

Look at his face. Look at his face. But her disobedient gaze did not heed. Instead it riveted on his torso with the stupefied zeal of a thief who’d unexpectedly happened upon a sack filled with money. Beads of moisture meandered down the muscled wall of his chest, clinging to the swatch of dark hair that narrowed into a silky ribbon as it bisected his ridged abdomen… then spread again to cradle his-

Holy. Saints. Above.

She could only stare and be grateful her jaw was attached to her face so it didn’t flop onto the ground at her feet. Dear God, he was… magnificent. While she had nothing to compare him to, there was no doubt Nathan was exquisitely and, er, generously made. Undoubtedly the rest of him-his arms and legs-were exquisite as well, and she’d verify that the instant her eyeballs recalled how to move. She inanely wondered if the Official Spy Handbook addressed this situation: female clothing poacher struck dumb, reduced to drooling, insensate mass with freakishly paralyzed eyeballs by sight of magnificent, exquisite naked wet man.

“Rather like ‘Puss in Boots,’ don’t you agree?”

The sound of his deep, amused voice jerked her from her stupor, and her gaze snapped up to meet his. A devilish gleam danced in his eyes. A witty response would most likely come to her in a year or two. Perhaps three or four. Right now she said the only word she could manage.

“Huh?”

“ ‘Puss in Boots.’ The fairy tale. Except there isn’t a king here to offer me his robe. Only you.” He raised one dark brow. “I don’t suppose you’d care to remove your dress?”

Dear God, she’d love nothing better. Especially since it was so hot out here. She felt as if she were roasting from the inside out. Sanity, however, prevailed, and she lifted her chin. “Certainly not.” Egad, was that squeaky noise her voice?

“Not even in the name of good sportsmanship? It would certainly even the playing field, don’t you agree?”

“I don’t see how both of us being naked would even the playing field at all.”

“No? Well, I’d be delighted to show you.”

“I believe I’ve seen…” Not nearly enough. “… quite enough, thank you.”

“Perhaps you could explain what you’re doing here? You gave me your word you wouldn’t wander off alone.”

“I wasn’t alone. I was with B.C…” Her voice trailed off as she realized the dog no longer stood beside her. She glanced quickly around, but he was nowhere to be seen. Humph. Wretched deserter. See if he ever got another biscuit from her. “… who was here just a moment ago, I assure you. But in any event, I knew I wouldn’t be alone once I found you.”

A smile that could only be described as wolfish curved his lips. “So you came in search of me. I’m flattered. Had you hoped to join me for a swim?”

“Of course not. I saw you stealing off into the woods and-”

“And once again you suspected me of searching for the jewels without you?”

Another wave of heat, this one guilt-induced, crept up her neck. “Not exactly. It was more a case of wanting to prove that you weren’t searching without me.”

“Ah. Well, as you can see, I was not.”

“Right. You were swimming. Isn’t the water rather cold this time of year?”

“As a matter of fact, it’s very cold.”

“You like cold water?”

“Not at all.”

“Then why were you swimming?”

“Are you certain you want to know the answer?”

Good lord, she wasn’t certain of anything, least of all why she continued to stand as if nailed in place and converse with him while he was still naked. And wet. And naked.

She swallowed. “Why do you continually ask if I want to know the answers to my questions?”

“Because I suspect you may not really want to hear the answer. Or be prepared for it. The unvarnished truthful answer, that is. As opposed to the sugarcoated drivel your Society acquaintances would offer you.”

“I assure you, I am perfectly prepared to hear why you were swimming.”

“Very well. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. The thought of touching you, kissing you, making love to you, was driving me to distraction. I’d hoped a swim in the cold water would take the edge off my ardor. As you might have noticed, it didn’t.” He looked pointedly downward and Victoria’s gaze followed his.

Holy. Saints. Above.

“You’re blushing, Victoria.”

Her gaze jumped back up to his. “Am I? Yes, I suppose I am. I’ve, er, never seen a naked man before.”

“Yet why should that embarrass you! If anyone at this impromptu party felt the need to be embarrassed, surely it would be the person who was naked.”

“Are you embarrassed?”

“No. Embarrassed isn’t what I’m feeling. Obviously.”

Obviously. “Well. That’s good. Because as far as I can tell, you have, um, nothing to be embarrassed about.”

“Thank you. Neither do you. I told you there’s no need for you to ever be embarrassed around me, Victoria.”

Yes, he’d told her. But her embarrassment had nothing to do with his reaction and everything to do with her own. With the fact that instead of turning away, she couldn’t stop staring at him. She wanted to touch him so much she actually trembled. How would all that beautiful male skin feel beneath her hands? Her lips? She’d always considered herself a lady, but there was absolutely nothing ladylike about what she wanted to do to him. What she wanted him to do to her.

Her skin felt tight, hot, beneath her gown, which was suddenly far too restrictive, constricting her breathing until her breaths came in shallow puffs. Her nipples hardened into aching points, and the flesh between her thighs grew heavy, pulsing in tandem with her rapid heartbeat.

“Are you all right, Victoria?”

She moistened her lips. “Are you?”

“There you go, answering a question with a question again.”

“Which I normally never do. It is all your fault. You make me-” She pressed her lips together to stem the flow of words.

He took a step toward her and her heart stuttered. “I make you what?”

Tremble. Ache. Want things I shouldn’t. “Say things I normally wouldn’t say. Do things I normally wouldn’t do.”

“Perhaps that is good. Perhaps you’re discovering new aspects of your nature. Or freeing traits you’ve kept hidden, knowingly or unknowingly.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Any number of reasons. The constraints of Society. Because your past experiences haven’t allowed you enough freedom to know your true nature. Therefore you just do what’s expected of you rather than what your heart desires. Speaking your mind, acting on your impulses, they can be very liberating.”

“One can’t simply say or do whatever they want.”

“Not very often,” he agreed, “and not with all people. But sometimes… sometimes you can.” He took another step closer. “Feel free to say anything you want to me.” Another step. “Or do anything you want.”

A half-dozen things she wanted to do to him instantly crowded into her mind, firing more heat into her face. His gaze drifted over her flaming cheeks and a wicked gleam glittered in his eyes. “Any chance you’d make a similar offer to me, my lady?”

Yes, please. “No, thank you.”

“That is… disappointing. But my offer stands.” He took three more steps forward. Now less than an arm’s length separated them. “One of the things I’ve come to admire about you is your courage. There’s nothing to be afraid of. This place is completely private. So tell me, Victoria… what do you want?”

Dear God, he made her want so many things. But really, it all came down to just one. “I want to touch you.”

The words came out in a rush. Without hesitation he plucked from her grasp the forgotten bundle of his clothes she still clutched to her chest then tossed the items aside. Before she had a chance to even draw a breath, he clasped her wrists and settled her hands in the center of his chest. “Then touch me.”