Discretion (The Dumonts, #1)(23)

The water around him is lit up, like the moon’s glow has saturated it. The light continues out from around him along the dark waves, like cool white trails snaking through the sea.

“It’s called une mer de lait,” he says. “The sea of milk. It’s bioluminescence from a type of Mollusca.”

“It’s magical,” I say breathlessly, trying to soak it all in. “We have something like this in the Pacific Northwest, but it’s more blue and green. This is like . . . you’re swimming in the Milky Way.”

“Doesn’t it make you want to jump in?”

It does. And so does the fact that he’s so effortlessly bobbing in the waves.

“Is it safe?”

“Very much so.”

“Warm?”

“Bien s?r.”

I think about it for a minute. “What about my ankle?”

“You can use the steps and platform at the back, just there. Unwrap your ankle so the bandage doesn’t get wet, and we’ll put it back on you after.”

“And my lack of bathing suit?”

“I just went in naked.”

“I didn’t see anything,” I tell him quickly.

“No? That’s a shame. It was the whole point.”

I smile, feeling extremely giddy all of a sudden, like everything inside me is fired up and ready to go. Fuck yes, I’m going in.

“Okay,” I tell him, walking around to the back, where there’s a step leading down to a wide wooden swimming platform. I sit down on the step and start unwrapping my ankle. “But you have to turn around when this dress comes off.”

“You do know by now that most women in France swim and sunbathe topless anyway?”

“And you know by now that I am not a Frenchwoman, nor am I most women,” I tell him, pulling the rest of the bandage off and setting it aside before easing up to my feet. “Okay, turn around now.”

He sighs but pivots in the water so he’s facing the shore. I quickly reach down and slip off my underwear, not wanting to get them wet, then unzip my dress and pull it over my head. I toss it back on the deck and look to see if he’s peeking.

To his credit, he’s not, but he is letting out a sly whistle of sorts as if he might have been earlier.

“You better not have seen anything,” I warn him as I hobble over to the edge.

“My imagination is pretty good at filling in the blanks,” he says, and I can hear the grin on his face. “Though I have no doubt it won’t do it justice for when I see the real thing.”

“When?” I repeat with a dry laugh, but inside a million fireworks are going off.

Time to take the literal plunge.

There’s nothing as nerve-racking as the moment before you’re about to jump, when something goes from a concept that you’ve talked about and considered to a real, actual thing. It’s scary. It doesn’t matter if it’s taking your first trip overseas or jumping into the Mediterranean Sea at night. The abstract becomes your reality, and it’s happening.

So I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and jump.





CHAPTER SIX

SADIE

With a deep breath of the warm, scented night air, I jump into the bracing chill of the sea. I feel every inch of my naked skin dance as I drop deeper into the water, until I’m enveloped in the shimmering ocean like a mythical creature.

Then I’m rushing up to the surface and bursting through, gasping for air, tasting the salt on my lips, my legs kicking to stay afloat.

I push the wet hair off my face and wipe my eyes to see Olivier smiling at me as he swims over.

“You did it,” he says, and I don’t know how it’s possible, but being in the water has transformed him into something larger than life as well, like he’s some mythical merman.

“I did,” I say, and my gaze is battling between staring at the shimmery, white stars in the water or the languid, sexual nature of his eyes.

I’m suddenly very, very conscious of how naked I am; the tops of my breasts are glistening from the moonlight, and he’s drifting closer and closer to me as we tread water together.

My heart is really rocketing now, not only from the adrenaline push from the jump, but because I can feel myself being drawn to him like stars toward a black hole. If my body were to press against his, I would feel every single hard and wet inch of him, and I’m pretty sure I would combust, fire spreading out along the glowing water.

“You’re beautiful, Sadie,” he says to me, his chin dipping into the water as he stares up at me intently through his long eyelashes.

For once, I resist the urge to laugh it off or downplay it, like I usually do when someone gives me a compliment. I don’t do anything like that, because it feels like Olivier is offering it up to me as a sign of reverence. Like it means something.

I swallow thickly, unable to say anything. I can only stare at him and the glowing water reflected in his eyes.

And then it happens.

His warm hand is at my back like a current, pulling me gently forward until my skin is brushing against his skin, and the water comes alive. One hand goes to my cheek, gripping me softly, while the other keeps us both afloat. He leans in, and it feels like whatever this is is meant to be, a cosmic dalliance, universes above and below us colliding in a sea of stars.