"Why don't we swim it?" He pulled his mount alongside hers and dropped onto the sand, his eyes suddenly sparkling. While the horse nuzzled curiously at the salty wetness on its legs, he collected the reins and kneeled down to begin hobbling it. "Can you make it that far?"
"Have you gone mad from the heat!" They were alone, miles from anything. He was all hers now, no gunnery mates, no seamen. To swim! What a sensible . . . no, romantic idea.
He laughed and began to tie a leather thong to her mare's forelegs. "Katy, you should know better than to try being coy with me. I'll wager you can swim like a fish. You probably learned for no other reason than it's not ladylike." He finished with the mare and rose up, facing her. His face was like fine leather against the blue of the sky. "Besides, I think I'd like seeing you out of that bodice."
"Remember, you're not on your quarterdeck today, so I needn't harken to your every wish." She slipped her hands beneath his jerkin and ran them slowly across the muscles on his sides. The feel of him reminded her of their first night together. As she ran her fingers upward, toward his shoulders, his lips came down to hers.
"You might get used to it if you tried it once." His voice was almost a whisper. As he kissed her he wrapped her in his arms and deftly pulled the knot at the base of her bodice. "So get yourself out of this thing and let's try the water." He wiggled the laces open and slipped it over her head. She wore nothing beneath, and her breasts emerged milky-white in the sunshine. He paused to examine her, then continued, "Why stand about in this heat when there's a cool lagoon waiting?"
He stepped away, slipped off his jerkin, and tossed it across his saddle. He was reaching down to unbuckle his boots when she stopped him. She dropped to her knees, slipped her hands around his waist, and nuzzled her face against his thighs. Then she released him and bent down. "Let me unbuckle your boots."
"What?"
"I enjoy doing things for you sometimes."
He seemed startled; she'd suspected he wouldn't like it. But he didn't pull away. "Come on then." He quickly stepped out of the boots. As she laid them against the trunk of the palm, she noticed they were still smeared with powder residue from that day at the Jamestown breastwork. "We're going to see how far around this island we can swim. Pretend that's an official order from the quarterdeck." He pulled his pistols from his waist and secured them on his saddle. Then he unbuckled his belt and glanced at her. "I don't know about you, but 1 don't plan to try it in my breeches." He solemnly began slipping off his canvas riding trousers.
She watched for a moment, then reached for the waist of her skirt.