Chapter 30

After a long search in the deep, cold water, Ava finally found what she sought for. The lake was deeper than one she used to swim in Roseville, so it wasn't as easy as she assumed. The water was clear under the bright sunlight but as she went deeper, it got darker. It took a little while before her eyes adapted well with the low light. She was glad she had the stamina. She could stay six to seven minutes under the water.

She felt relief as the dark cover of the book caught her eye. The water was biting cold. She would freeze if she stayed here any longer. She took the book and held it tight, she was just about to swim up when something came around her waist and pulled her up.

Panic struck her instantly. She had been caught by some water creature! An image of a giant octopus flashed in her frantic mind. She struggled, moving helplessly to fight whatever captured her, but it was too strong. She pushed the tentacle encircling her belly with one hand, while the other hand kept the book with her. Instantly she found that what held her was not a slimy, squishy tentacle, but a strong hand. A human hand. She turned to see the person who had caught her. The bright sunlight streaming through the water pierced her eyes as they got near to the surface, she could barely see anything.

Suddenly she was dragged out of the water with a great splash. She gasped for air, a little spasm of coughing followed afterward. She blinked away the water from her eyes and looked straight to her captor. She couldn't be more surprised if it was a giant octopus.

Though the eyes glaring at her was bone-chilling, she was sure the blood in his veins was boiling hot. If it was possible, he must have been breathing fire. Though he had never been other than hostile to her, he had never looked as furious as he was right now.

He glowered at her without a word, then suddenly he grabbed her arm tight and pulled her behind him as he moved to the edge of the lake. As soon as their feet met the ground under the water, she struggled to match his pace, realizing in horror what was about to come. It was the calm before the storm.

When they set foot on the soil again, suddenly she became aware that she was only wearing her chemise. She looked down instantly, to her horror, the soaking fabric had clung tight to her body like a second skin, it also had become transparent. Every shape and curve, even the little crook of her navel was molded to the wet material. Everything she had could be seen perfectly through the thin transparent layer. The fabric had a little use now for everything beneath it was plainly exposed.

He halted and released her arm. He turned to her and she covered the front of her body with the book immediately. She was glad for the size of the book, for it covered her breasts perfectly. Still, she was more than half naked, and she couldn't cover the apex of her thighs. She considered to cover it with one hand, but it would seem terribly awkward, and would only attract his attention there. She prayed he wouldn't look lower.

She looked upon him nervously, his furious

glare was on her face.

"What in heaven's name were you doing in the bottom of the lake?!" His irritated voice thundering in her ears.

Then his gaze brushed over her all the way down and she held her breath. Her face turned scarlet and she wanted to sank deep into the ground. She held the book tighter to her breasts.

Damn. This certainly will arouse anything other than creative instinct. Ashton shifted his gaze back on her burning face. Bloody hell, he never knew a woman could look more tempting than when she was wearing nothing at all.

She was a naive but she could tell by instinct that he was distracted. She could see the anger in his eyes transformed into something else even if it was only for a brief moment. She could sense his breathing quickened. She lowered her gaze to his throat and saw the muscles there flowing. She cursed herself for being a wanton but suddenly she felt a triumphant joy bursting inside her. Thus far, he was the only man who didn't show the least of appreciation to her attraction.

He breathed deeply, she could see he was trying to get himself together.

"I demand an answer this second,"

His voice was cold and tart as usual, but for a second she detected a tinge of short, faint tremor. Or was it just her imagination?

"What were you doing in the bottom of the lake??"

"I... I... ..." She stammered, she couldn't think of an answer.

His gaze moved to the sketchbook she held. Instinctively she held it tighter.

"You went to the bottom of the lake to get that?"

Her silence indicated yes. The evidence was in her hands.

If a moment ago he felt stirring in his loin, now he felt stirring in his heart. Something warm and aching at the same time. He suppressed the feeling mercilessly and focused his gaze on hers again.

"Are you totally out of your mind?! You almost drowned yourself to death. It was only by chance I was here in time to save you!"

"You didn't save me... I was totally fine. I was just about to..." She halted midsentence at his expression. She would vex him if she told the truth. He had already jumped into the lake to save her and she really appreciated that. She didn't want to humiliate him by saying his rescue was unnecessary.

"... I was in need of air, I... miscalculated the time I needed, I was in great danger when you came in time to save me..."

Ashton knew instantly that she switched her answer in the last second. And he knew why she did. She seemed to care about his feeling. But why? He cursed himself at the realization that he had ridiculed himself in the so-called rescue, but the fact that she admitted otherwise to save his pride touched him.

"Why did you do this? I threw it away, I no longer want it. For what reason you jumped into the damn cold lake to get it back?"

"You didn't want to throw it away."

She was thinking of the right way to say it.

"You did it because I had provoked you."

Her answer surprised him. She put the blame on herself. To his knowledge, women were selfish and tricky, even the best women were. No woman would admit their mistake, they would hide it, they would deny it, they would make up reasons for it.

"Even if it was so, still, it's none of your damn business. So why did you do this?"

The cold wind blew and she held herself tighter. It did a little good for she wore nothing but a damp chemise, nothing shielded her naked skin from the stinging breeze. The water was cold, but she didn't really feel it when she was in it. Now that she stood here, soaking all over, she could feel herself freezing.

"I... I feel indebted to you for saving my life, and... and... I feel guilty for causing you a terrible injury and provoking you to throw this away yesterday... so I meant to redeem it."

He could recognize truth and lies from the very second, and her reason was a lie, but her intention was pure. Once again the stirring emotion discomposed him. He gazed at her thoroughly.

She was standing there, lowering her gaze to escape his, her body trembling and her teeth chattering as her hair dripped down her neck, drawing his attention to linger there. She had a long, beautiful neck. The curved shape arched down to her shoulder looked delicate and he wondered if the creamy skin over there was as smooth as it seemed. His gaze shifted down and he imagined the tender peaks pressing tight to the leather cover of the book had turned to pearls. He wondered if they were in dusky or rosy shade.

He was extremely aroused, and not artistically this time, but he allowed none of the blazing fire to escape his cold facade. He replied in a mocking tone.

"I'm starting to question your sanity. Your action made no sense."

She didn't know what to say, so she just stood still. He turned from her and walked toward the studio.

"Collect your things and come with me."

Silent. Without a glance, he knew she was surprised yet hesitant.

"Another five minutes in this cold air and you'll freeze to death."

She knew they had to get out of the damp fabric quickly and put on the dry clothes. Otherwise they would catch pneumonia. She collected her things and followed him, watching his back. He was soaking through from head to toe. She wondered how he still looked remarkably graceful in this state. She must looked like a drowned rat.

Once she entered the studio, it brought back an old memory. She had been here with Magnus, strolling along between the paintings. They had kissed here, in the middle of the room. Suddenly she felt her chest aching.

This was the place where their relationship were cruelly terminated, by the man who was now standing here with her. She watched as he kneeled down by the fireplace and started the fire. The first orange flame dancing in the hearth, she moved closer toward the fireplace to feel its warmth. She was chilling to the bone. She glanced secretly at him. In the firelight, his refined feature looked more dramatic. She imagined staring at his face for hours and never got bored. Now he looked perfectly composed, but she had learned through their little encounter that he exploded easily. Fiercely savaging whoever unfortunate to cause his fury. Yet his anger was fleeting. It never lasted long.