CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The students were still applauding. From the podium, Lily could see Sean’s broad smile as he stood clapping— she’d have had to be blindfolded to miss it. That dazzling smile had her insides doing a funny kind of flip-flop. Her lips curled in self-conscious response. While admittedly relieved that the talk had gone well, it was Sean’s obvious approval that made Lily feel as if she’d been awarded a prize.
When the auditorium finally quieted, Lily spoke. “Thank you very much, and thank you for inviting me to speak to you today. But the people who really deserve your applause are my assistants, Karen Masur and John Granger. Karen and John, if you’d please come down?”
As her assistants walked down the center aisle, Lily began to clap, and the audience joined in. Karen blushed with pleasure while John acknowledged the audience with a wave of his hand, like a rock star before a stadium filled with fans.
Lily waited until they were by her side to issue her challenge. For a second, she hesitated, uncertain whether to proceed with her plan. She suspected that as soon as Sean heard it, that warm smile would vanish.
But she needed to see what kind of man Sean was, what kind of mayor he was. The knowledge was suddenly of vital importance—to whom, she refused to admit.
“If you recall, I mentioned earlier that I hoped to encourage more of you to explore what is literally in your own backyard. Before my talk, when I was sitting in the front row, I looked up at the school motto.” Lily pointed to the medallion above her head. “ ‘From the Sea We Learn,’ ” she recited. “Back when I was a student here, I didn’t really grasp how fitting a motto this is for Coral Beach. Now, as a marine biologist, I can assure you that
all
of us need to learn and understand more about the sea and the riches it holds.”
Lily’s eyes skimmed over the audience, verifying she had its full attention. The time had come for Sean to take a turn in the hot seat. “During my talk earlier, I noticed that among the audience we have not only Mayor McDermott and his very capable assistant, Ms. Roemer, but also the director of Parks and Recreation, Mr. Dave Cullen.” Lily gestured to where Sean, Evelyn, and Dave sat. Her arm extended, she raised it, inviting the three of them to rise.
They did so slowly while the rest of the audience stared openly.
Lily smiled. “In the interest of educating the citizens of Coral Beach, I’d like to propose to Mayor McDermott and Mr. Cullen that the town organize a weekend of scuba diving instruction for its residents.”
At Lily’s suggestion, excited murmurs swept through the auditorium.
Dave, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, whispered a rueful, “Damn. I had a hunch Lily would find a way to retaliate after I suggested you could beat her swimming. Looked like she wanted to pitch me off the boat—and we weren’t anywhere near the shore.”
“Now you begin to understand Lily’s no one to mess with,” Sean replied out of the corner of his mouth. “Can the Parks Department handle an event like this?”
“Yeah, I think we can swing it. Actually it’s a damn fine idea.”
“Good. Set a date ASAP and make sure Lily and the Marine Center receive all the kudos in the publicity release. Uh-oh,” he warned, “here comes Feldron.”
The school principal had rushed up to the podium. He beckoned Sean and Dave to the stage, as well. Resigned, they advanced down the center aisle to join Lily and the others.
The handshaking and polite formalities over, everyone had drifted off the auditorium stage in cordial clumps, still discussing Lily’s proposal for a community scuba diving weekend.
Somehow Lily found herself paired with Sean. In her hand, she clutched an engraved paperweight with the school’s motto etched on its surface. The gift had been presented to her by none other than her old zoology teacher, Mr. Sneel. Amazingly, Mr. Sneel seemed to have shed the curmudgeonly demeanor she remembered so well and become a gray-haired sweetie pie. From his delighted smile one might have thought Lily had been his very favorite student, which had definitely
not
been the case—Mr. Sneel had been supremely democratic in his dislike of
all
his students.
Lily wished she could pretend that the lightheadedness she was feeling now was due to lingering shock over Mr. Sneel’s effusive thanks or perhaps to postlecture adrenaline. Unfortunately, however, the source of her dizzy excitement started exactly where Sean had his hand wrapped around her elbow. With each step they took as he led her from the auditorium, a sizzling heat spread through her.
Lily knew Sean’s gesture was purely chivalrous, one he doubtless performed unconsciously, thus wholly at odds with the melting warmth it engendered.
“That was a really nice thing you did back there, Lily,” Sean said. “Karen looked ready to burst with pride when those kids started asking questions. Even Granger seemed happy.”
Lily shrugged. The movement caused the back of Sean’s hand to brush the curve of her waist. She forced herself to concentrate, to ignore the tingling fire he’d just ignited. “It was the least I could do,” she replied, pleased her voice sounded fairly normal—the faint huskiness could be from her lecture, after all. “The two of them did a great job with the film. Karen got John to brain-storm with her on the music selection. They ended up pulling an all-nighter.” She’d awakened at four-thirty this morning to find Karen and John sitting in front of her computer—though by that time they’d finished with Karen’s film, and Karen was busy revamping John’s Web site for him.
“Your talk was terrific,” Sean continued. “I’d be willing to wager a lot of those kids are going to pay far closer attention in their biology classes from now on.”
“Perhaps.” She was careful not to shrug again.
“Matter of fact, your talk was such a success, I’ve decided to overlook the nasty trick you pulled.”
Lily’s gaze flew to his.
His hazel eyes are so beautiful,
she thought, and then swallowed.
“Tell me,” he said. “What would you have done if I’d nixed the community scuba program?”
“I’d have been as disappointed as the rest of the assembly.”
He pulled her to a stop in front of the display case, which lined the hall. Despite his relaxed expression, his eyes sparked with intensity. “So, you’re not . . . disappointed.”
She thought back to how Sean had stepped up to the podium and praised the community scuba diving initiative, announcing that the Parks Department would begin organizing the effort posthaste. As gifted a politician as Sean was, he could have easily side-stepped the idea and avoided committing himself and the town’s resources. But he hadn’t.
“No, I’m not disappointed,” she said simply. “I’m grateful. The townspeople will be, too.”
His smile was like staring into the sun.
Flustered, Lily turned her head and stared blindly at the contents of a display case, the image of Sean’s brilliant smile still shining in her mind’s eye.
“Looking for your old trophies?”
“What?” Lily asked distractedly.
“Swim team plaques. We passed the science awards two cases ago.” Sean pointed. “Right here. Girls’ record holders. There you are. Again and again, and—”
“You can stop now,” Lily interrupted, feeling absurdly self-conscious. Yet her eyes strayed to the plaques nonetheless. Memories welled inside her. They were good memories. She’d loved breaking those records, hitting the electronic timing pad to stop the clock, then looking up into the stands to see her swim coach, Hal Storey, whooping ecstatically.
“Did you know that Hal’s coaching a master’s team these days?”
“I believe Dave mentioned something about it.”
“The practices are at night,” he continued. “People pick and choose according to their schedules. It’s a big group.” He paused. “You’d see a lot of familiar faces.”
“That’d be almost as much fun as running into Stacy Malloy—” Lily could have bitten her foolish, jealous tongue.
Luckily, Sean didn’t notice the slip. “Stacy won’t be anywhere near the pool. I doubt she could swim a hundred meters. No, I meant other people—you know, from school, from swimming. You’d be surprised how many of them ask me what you’re up to.”
“Why do they ask you about me?”
“Maybe because you’ve become a near-celebrity in your field, and have traveled to places and seen things that most of us only dream about.”
“I didn’t mean that.” She brushed the idea of herself as particularly noteworthy aside. “Why do they ask
you
about me?”
Sean looked at Lily searchingly. She wasn’t fishing, he realized. She didn’t have a bag of flirtatious ploys like Stacy. No, Lily was honestly mystified.
She was so damned gorgeous.
“I suppose it’s because everyone knows how close my mom and yours still are, how our grandmothers practically live at each others’ homes.” Shutting his mouth before he added,
And probably because a number of
them have guessed that I’ve been crazy about you forever
and enjoy tormenting me with unending Lily Banyon
questions.
“Oh. That makes sense.”
They continued walking. In the main lobby, Sean finally dropped his hand to sign out at the security desk and unpin his visitor badge from his light gray jacket, waiting as Lily did the same.
On the other side of the high school’s double doors, rain was falling in solid sheets. Sean gripped the dull metal handle to push the door open for Lily. “So, are you going to come to a swim practice, put a smile on Hal’s face?”
Lily shook her head. “No, I don’t think so. I’ll make time to visit Hal this week, but I prefer ocean swimming these days.”
Sean looked out at the pouring rain. “In this muck?” His smile turned knowing. “Oh, right. I see.”
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Why you don’t want to come. It’d be embarrassing to swim with your old coach if you’re no longer . . .” He let the sentence trail off.
“I’m just as fast as I used to be,” she retorted.
“Hey, it’s okay, really,” he said in a soothing tone, one that he knew would infuriate her. He was, after all, blessed with a true talent when it came to pissing off Lily. “Lots of swimmers lose their edge—”
“What time’s practice?” she demanded curtly.
The annoyed glint in her crystalline eyes told Sean all he needed. He had her. “Eight to ten, every night,” he informed her easily. “So, you’ll come?”
Lips pursed, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer, Lily swept past him, regal as a queen under a drenching rain.
With a grin Sean called after her, “See you later tonight, Lily.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Lily’s former coach spotted her from across the width of the fifty-meter pool. Hal Storey was kneeling with a wrench in his hand, tightening the ratchets on the lane lines. “Lily Banyon! Long time no see!” he bellowed, then springing to his feet, he rushed around the perimeter of the pool.
Hal enveloped her in a rib-crushing hug. When he finally released her, he stepped back and inspected her from head to toe.
“My, my, Lily Banyon, all grown up. You’re looking good, really good,” he pronounced, his face creased in pleasure. “It’s good to see you.”
Lily blinked away the sudden moisture in her eyes. “You, too, Hal,” she said, in a voice thick with emotion. “I’d have recognized you anywhere. Still wearing the same old hat,” she teased. It was true; she would have recognized Hal anywhere, even without the ragged Miami University baseball cap. There weren’t that many friendly giants who dressed in Bermuda shorts and beat-up flip-flops, who wore stopwatches about their necks the way others did gold chains, who always had a clipboard at the ready, tucked under a hairy, muscular arm.
“You been doing much swimming, Lily?” he asked, in his typically direct manner.
“Some,” she admitted. “Strictly open water, though. My flip turns are probably rusty.”
“You used to nail ’em like an archer hitting a bull’seye.”
“I wanted to get them right for you, Coach.”
Hal surprised her by blushing. “You always were a good kid, Lily. A real fighter.” He rubbed his hand across a cheek covered with what looked like a five-day growth. “We need to celebrate your return, Lily. I’m going to dig up one of my vintage workouts, give you guys a blast from the past. You’ll feel right at home, I promise,” he said, winking. He broke off to look around the pool area.
Clustered in small groups, the other swimmers were chatting, others stretching. Nylon swim bags littered the pool deck.
“Hey guys, y’all remember Lily,” Hal called in his booming voice. “Come on over and say hi.” To Lily, he added, “Gotta run to the office for one of my old notebooks. Back in a sec.”
Hal’s words had the swimmers breaking apart and heading over to where Lily stood. She was soon surrounded. Sean hadn’t been exaggerating this afternoon. She recognized many of the faces here—but unlike Stacy Malloy, they seemed genuinely happy to see her. Lily was barraged with questions about her job at the Marine Center, the reef study, how long she planned to be in the area, whether she’d be attending swim practices regularly.
Eric Sullivan, who’d sat behind Lily in calculus class, spoke up. “By the way, Lily, in case we’re all too busy moaning and groaning at the end of practice, we have a long-standing tradition on this team. A bunch of us head over to the Rusted Keel for a couple beers and a round of darts. That is, if our arms aren’t too tired to throw ’em. Even on the nights you’re too busy to swim, drop by for a brew. It’s always fun.”
Lily smiled. “Thanks, Eric.” Had Eric Sullivan ever said more than five words to her before?
Sean walked up to the group surrounding Lily in time to hear Eric say, “So, if you feel like some liquid calories after workout, join us. I can give you a lift.”
Jesus
, Sullivan was all but asking Lily out on a date, Sean fumed. He frowned, trying to remember whether Lily had ever liked Eric back in high school, and battling the jealousy spreading inside him. He was tempted to haul Sullivan over to the bleachers and explain a few basic facts. Number one being that Eric was welcome to any woman in the world but Lily.
Eric’s voice floated past Lily, unheeded. Sean had arrived. He’d changed into wheat-colored khakis and a black polo shirt, his gear bag slung over his shoulder. A frown marred his face.
Was he annoyed that she’d decided to come to a practice?
Lily asked herself, filled with sudden uncertainty.
Her thoughts were diverted by Hal’s shout of welcome. “Hey, Sean, hey, Dave, it’s about time you two showed up.” He waved a clipboard at them. “Get suited up and in the water, pronto. Special workout tonight—in honor of Dr. Lily Banyon.”
Lily glanced at Sean again. His expression had become studiously blank. Catching her stare, he gave her a terse nod in place of
hello
, then he knelt and dug his mesh equipment bag from inside his larger nylon bag, tossed it by the edge of the pool, and headed toward the men’s lockers.
Her eyes followed him, her uncertainty turning to misgiving. Sean obviously didn’t want her here.
“All right, guys, let’s get going. Hop in.” Their coach’s loud voice cut through the casual chatter around the pool. “We’ll start with a nine-hundred meter warm-up. Four hundred swim freestyle, three hundred kick—with fins or not, your choice—followed by two hundred pull freestyle.”
At once, the swimmers disbanded, heading off to their usual lanes. Lily quickly shucked off her cutoffs and T-shirt, stripping to her Speedo. She rummaged through her gear bag, pulled out her goggles, pull buoy, and fins, shoved her clothes inside, and rezipped the bag.
“I think I’ll have you swim in lane eight, Lily,” Hal said. “McDermott and Cullen usually have the lane to themselves. They need some fresh talent to keep them sharp.”
Lily opened her mouth to protest, but Dave spoke first. “Hey, Lily. Glad you could make it, but I think you’ll be keeping Sean company on your own tonight. My shoulder’s been feeling a little tender, Hal.” Dave rolled his tanned shoulder tentatively and winced, giving proof to his words. “I’m going to drop down a couple lanes and give it a rest. Wouldn’t want to injure my rotator cuff.”
Hal nodded, a frown furrowing his heavy brow. “Swim in lane four. You can put on your Zoomers and lead the group, but if that shoulder starts to hurt, get out,” he cautioned. “And don’t forget to ice it tonight.”
“Sure thing. Have fun, Lily,” Dave said with a wink, before grabbing his blue mesh bag and sauntering over to the pool’s middle lane.
“You set for equipment, Lily?”
“Yeah, I’ve got everything, thanks.”
“Then get going, kid,” he ordered, as if Lily were thirteen again. “Sean’s already in.”
“I’m going, I’m going,” she said, wishing she were a hundred miles away from Coral Beach’s brightly lit natatorium.
She was dawdling, making a huge production of placing her fins by the foot of the starting block, aligning them just so, then positioning her pull buoy alongside the fins. She killed some more time as she fiddled with her goggles, adjusting and readjusting the thin rubber strap, which already was a perfect fit. Unfortunately, swimming was a minimalist sport. She was running out of ways to avoid the inevitable, when she’d have to jump into the water and share a lane with a nearly naked Sean McDermott.
What in the world had she gotten herself into?
Sean was already well into the warm-up. His freestyle was smoother than she remembered. She watched critically as his elbows emerged high above the water on his recovery, as his fingers and forearms, like a blade, sliced cleanly into it again, making hardly a splash. His powerful stroke ate up the fifty meters with an effortlessness that convinced her he could continue swimming like this for hours and hours.
His strength was unbearably sexy.
She watched Sean glide into the wall, reach up for his black fins, and pull them on. Not once did he look up, his concentration ferocious. Without pausing, he pushed off the wall, his fins adding extra force to his kicks. He swam submerged on his back.
While Sean was pulling on his fins, Lily had pretended to be busy herself. She’d made a show of tugging on her goggles, just in case he happened to glance up, and saw her staring like an obsessed ninny. Through the tinted blue of her goggles, she watched him surface.
Oh my God.
Her knees went weak, threatened to buckle.
Sean was doing a butterfly kick on his back.
Her eyes traveled down the length of his torso and stopped, transfixed. She swallowed convulsively. Yet she couldn’t have torn her eyes away from the sight of Sean’s narrow hips if someone had screamed,
Fire!
Encased in black Lycra, they moved in a suggestive rhythm, breaking the surface of the water, sinking, and then rising again, over and over. Unbearably erotic, an answering beat drummed deep inside Lily. Helplessly, she conjured endless hours of sex, Sean’s body driving into her with the same relentless, unbroken rhythm, each flex of his hips thrusting to her very womb.
“Something wrong, Lily?” Hal’s impatient voice demanded.
Lily nearly leaped out of her skin. She was the only one left on deck besides Hal. “No, nothing,” she said hurriedly, hyperconscious that her voice was reedy thin. “Just about to jump in.”
To clear her mind of the sexual fog that lay thick and heavy, she blinked rapidly—only to mutter a soft curse when she realized what had happened. Yanking her goggles off, she dropped to a kneel and swished them viciously in the water.
“What’s the problem now?” Hal’s patience was obviously wearing thin.
Embarrassed, resentful, and praying Hal wouldn’t guess the real reason why, Lily ground out her explanation. “My goggles fogged.”
“They broken? I’ve got—”
“No, no . . . ,” she interrupted tersely, and felt immediately guilty. It wasn’t Hal’s fault her goggles had literally fogged from the heat of her aroused body. It was hers. That’s what she got from staring at Sean McDermott’s groin for too long: fogged mind, fogged goggles.
Determined to ignore the sight of Sean moving like a bold lover through the water next to her, that incredible, muscled body within touching distance, Lily gritted her teeth and dove in.
It was torture, physical and sensual.
Sean should have known he was playing with fire.
Out of habit, as swimmers do when only two occupy a lane, Sean and Lily split it, swimming side by side, back and forth, in long, repeated sets. They’d hardly exchanged a word, which was for the best.
Sean wasn’t sure he could form a coherent sentence at this point.
His mind was filled to bursting with Lily, with her body. She was a wet dream come true. Her silver-and-blue Speedo clung like a second skin. When he saw the outline of her nipples pressed against her suit, he groaned, a loud underwater moan of frustration. He wanted to tear away the fabric and cover those tight nipples with his mouth.
He wanted her.
Instead, he raced her.
It began slowly, and he was the one who instigated it, out of self-preservation and desperate reasoning. If he swam fast enough, he’d keep ahead of her, wouldn’t have to gaze at the luscious curves of her body as he was taking a breath, wouldn’t screw up his timing like some novice swimmer and choke on a lungful of chlorinated pool water.
And if he swam fast, really fast, the blood would remain near his pumping heart rather than flowing straight to his cock. He’d never swum with a hard-on before and he didn’t intend to tonight.
Lily had always been a true competitor, and with Sean, competition was second nature. Almost immediately, she sensed his intention to pull ahead of her at every send-off, a mind game of intimidating raw power. Instinctively, Lily increased her pace, refusing to give way.
Their attitude was no different than when they’d tested each other as children, sprinting to touch the wall first. But now, they were adults, and no matter how gifted a swimmer Lily was, she couldn’t out-swim Sean. A superb male specimen, he was stronger, bigger, and thus his stroke was more powerful. Moreover, Lily hadn’t been subjecting her body to the kind of grueling interval workouts Hal Storey devised for his swimmers.
They’d come to the last segment of the night’s workout. Hal had instructed them to do a set of five two-hundreds, “descending,” meaning that each two hundred was to be swum at a slightly faster pace than the preceding one.
It was demanding to say the least, and by the time they had finished the third two-hundred, Lily’s arms felt like spaghetti, her legs like blocks of cement. Nevertheless, she continued, pushing herself to the max. Her reward, the knowledge that at least she was making Sean work for each victory he clocked. They were both gasping for air as they watched the electronic timer for the next send-off, intense focus mirrored on their faces.
I should have known this wouldn’t work,
Sean thought. Lily had way too much grit and perseverance. As they waited for the sweep of the second hand to signal their send-off, he could see the telltale signs of fatigue laying claim to her: the trembling of her arms, the rapid rise and fall of her chest. Yet she was still swimming like a torpedo.
Maybe he should ease up on the pace with this last two hundred, give her a little rest.
The second hand hit the top of the clock and, as one, Lily and Sean pushed off the wall, their bodies perfectly streamlined. Rather than pulling ahead of Lily, this time Sean backed off, consciously setting a slower pace.
Within ten strokes, Lily had surged ahead of him by half a body length. For Sean, the next one hundred and seventy-odd meters seemed an eternity. He tortured himself, watching her through his goggles, the way her hips rotated toward him, as though offering herself on their watery bed.
With an outstretched hand, Lily slammed into the wall, finishing just before him. She tore off her goggles, her eyes glittering angrily as he pulled up alongside her.
“Nice set,” he offered shortly.
“You creep,” Lily growled the accusation. “You want to be some macho jerk and set a race pace for the entire workout, fine. But don’t you
dare
toss a measly two hundred meters my way, like you’re bestowing some present.”
Guilty as charged. If the tables were turned, he’d be as furious as she was. Especially since she didn’t know the real reason he was swimming like a man possessed. What was he supposed to do? Drag her flush against him so that she could have hard proof that she was turning him into a lust-driven madman? He wanted to howl in frustration. “You looked like you were struggling,” he snapped defensively. “I was merely giving you a chance to recover. . . .”
“Yeah, whatever.” Lily looked pointedly away from him.
Hal’s voice had them both jerking their chins upward. “How are you feeling, Lily? You two been swimming up a storm. Nothing like some good friendly competition, that’s what I always say—”