Hattie gulped as she watched Luc strip off his T-shirt. OMG, he had abs – real life abs. A six-pack instead of a six-pound bag of potatoes. She couldn’t take her eyes off them. He looked like a flipping male model in all his six-foot-three gorgeous glory.
Thank goodness she was wearing sunglasses so it wasn’t obvious she was looking at him.
With one quick fluid movement he dived into the cool blue water, swimming like a sleek seal for a good half length of the pool before surfacing with a shake of his head. Should she acknowledge him, she wondered? The last thing she wanted was to engage in conversation with him when she was sitting here in her matronly, baggy Marks and Spencer swimming costume. She looked down and tugged at the faded orange and pink pattern. When had she stopped caring? When had she stopped wearing a bikini for goodness’ sake?
Hattie watched Luc swimming with an easy front crawl, his biceps bunching with each stroke. She indulged in a little heartfelt sigh to herself. He really was an absolute Adonis and he probably knew it. What’s more she could bet that his girlfriends would wear fabulous, tiny bikinis and sport nearly all-over-body golden tans not manky old swimsuits like this one where the lycra had given up the ghost in strategic regions.
She closed her eyes and tried to block out the vision of Luc, which worked just fine until everything went quiet. When she opened her eyes, he was hauling himself out of the pool, lifting that awesome body up over the edge in a definite show of very masculine strength.
With water running off him, the droplets glistening in the sunshine like crystals, he walked straight towards her, with that confident easy swagger and roll of the hips that made her think of cowboys.
‘Bonjour, Hattie.’ As usual he dropped the H from her name which was charming without him even trying.
‘Hi,’ she said, trying to be cool, but there was a giveaway squeak in her voice. God she’d turned into a guinea pig overnight.
‘Nice costume,’ he said with a lift of one decidedly rakish brow. If they were still looking for a new James Bond, he’d got that look nailed.
‘Do you think so?’ she asked brightly, wanting to cover herself up.
‘No, it’s hideous..’ He gave her a wicked smile. ‘Why bother? No one’s here.’
‘Apart from you.’
‘I won’t mind, if you don’t.’
She blushed and picked up her book. Luc always managed to make her feel very gauche and inexperienced, which was bloody irritating because she was a grown woman and she’d had sex plenty of times, thank you very much. Although looking at him, she suspected his sort of sex was very different to the type she was used to or rather not used to anymore. Chris hadn’t been that interested for the last eighteen months.
‘What are your plans today?’ she asked in a desperate attempt to hold a normal conversation.
He shrugged, a proper Gallic, lazy shrug. He had very nice broad shoulders… and there she went again. Objectifying the poor man.
‘I have no plans. It’s a day off from the vines. I thought perhaps…’ he paused and his eyes rested on her face. ‘…I might seduce you.’
Pardon! Hattie managed out a strangled gasp, even more grateful for the sunglasses that protected her outraged stare. What on earth did she say to that?