Feeling confused, but a little less ridiculous, Maddy stepped down off the platform. She folded her arms resolutely across her waist and clamped her teeth together, doing her best to control her shivers.
The plump, pigtailed girl, whose name was Jennifer, bounced merrily off the end of the platform. Without comment, Zack extended an arm to retrieve her.
"Okay, when I count to three, I want everybody to turn around and put one hand on the wall-got that? One hand. One… two… three. Okay, great. Rule number three is: You have to keep one hand on the wall all the time, unless I tell you to let go."
Dear Lord, Maddy thought. How had she gotten herself into this nightmare? Please, Lord, just let me get out of here…
Everybody know how to hold your breath?" Zack asked. "Sure, you do. Just like this, see?" There was a chorus of giggles. Maddy opened her eyes to the incredible specter of Zack, with eyes crossed and cheeks puffed out like a blowfish, slowly turning purple. The children were all doing their best to imitate him.
"Come on," Theresa whispered earnestly. "You have to hold your breath. If you don't, you'll get drownded."
Maddy took a deep breath and held it, painfully conscious of the way her expanded lungs pushed her breasts against the tight black skin of her suit.
"Uh-uh," Theresa said firmly. "Like this."
Maddy dutifully puffed out her cheeks, then looked up just in time to catch Zack watching her with a quizzical expression on his face. Her pent-up breath escaped in a rush.
"Okay, I think we're ready for the big time," Zack said as he patiently hauled Jennifer back onto the platform. "That's right-we are going to put our faces in the water! I'm going to say, 'One, two, ready,' and you're going to take a big breath. Then I'm going to say, 'Go,' and I want you to put your face right down in the water. Okay? One… two… ready…"
Please, Lord, Maddy prayed. This is a good time for the Big One… the big California quake…
"Go."
Maddy leaned forward and stared down at the choppy surface of the water. Her neck and jaw muscles turned to concrete. She felt a wave of nausea, and thought desperately, If I get sick now, I'll kill myself.
Something touched her arm. Both arms. Near her ear a low, masculine voice rumbled, for her alone, "I won't force you to put your face down. I won't push you. You have to do it by yourself. Understand?"
She nodded, refusing to look at him.
"You can do it," the voice insisted. "I'm here for moral support, but you can do it."
She nodded again. She knew only one thing for certain. If she didn't do it now, she never would, and all this humiliation would have been for nothing. Taking one more, excruciating breath, she closed her eyes tightly and plunged.
It was like jumping off a building. It seemed forever before she felt the clinging, suffocating wet close over her face, and longer than forever before she was out of it and breathing again, gasping and blowing and frantically brushing water from her face as if it were sticky nightmare cobwebs.
"Good job," Zack said quietly, and only when he released her did she realize he had been holding her all the time, supporting her with strong hands on her waist. She began to shiver.
"Now," Zack said to the rest of the class, "see how Maddy went all the way under the water and got her hair wet? That's what we're going to do next. This time when I say, 'Go,' I want you to bob down and get all your hair wet. Hey, not until I say, 'Go,' Jennifer. No dry hair allowed, got it? Okay…"
Maddy had been hearing Zack's voice through a funny, high-pitched ringing. She must have water in her ears, she thought fuzzily, just before somebody turned all the lights off.
Fortunately, Zack was standing so close to Maddy that he felt her sway and go slack, and was easily able to catch her before she slipped under. Then he was really in a hell of a predicament-arms full of a beautiful, unconscious blond, and five pairs of baby owl eyes focused on him with varying degrees of alarm. Okay, Zachary, he thought. Let's see you get out of this one.
But for the moment, heaven help him, he wasn't even thinking about getting out of it. He was looking down at her still, pale face and seeing it flushed and warm instead, with the curve of her cheek just fitting his palm. Her lips were a deep, dusky rose, and even slack and parted, showing the glistening tips of even white teeth, they looked full, and sweet, and incredibly inviting. It was ironic, really, after all the time he'd spent fine-tuning his protective reflexes and shoring up his barricades, that someone should slip past his guard here, in a babies' swim class, of all places!
But, as he'd learned the hard way, life was full of surprises.
He'd wondered at first if she might be some sort of celebrity chaser, though it had been awhile since he'd had to deal with that sort of nuisance. But that idea hadn't lasted any longer than it had taken him to spot the fear in her eyes. Her eyes… just like that little kid's. He supposed that was why he'd thought they belonged together. They both had that same scared look.
"She gonna be okay?" a woman asked. It was Sherry, one of the on-duty lifeguards, leaning over the edge of the pool to peer with concern and interest at his burden.
Zack nodded. "Yeah. She fainted, but I think it's just a case of nerves." Panic, he thought, would be more like it.
"Swept her right off her feet, huh?" Sherry said, deadpan, then levered herself into the water, planting herself between Zack and the round-eyed children. "Hey, who told you guys you could let go of the wall? Let's see one hand on the wall, now, okay?" In an aside to Zack she muttered, "I'll take over here. Get her outa here before they start getting hysterical."
Zack nodded and turned to wade toward the steps. Thank heavens for Sherry, he thought. The girl was barely nineteen, but had a level head and a way with children.
A voice piped up. "Is she sick?" That would be Jennifer, of course, asking bluntly the question that had been in all of their eyes. Zack turned and opened his mouth to answer, but instead of Jennifer's plump face and bright, interested gaze, he found himself meeting a pair of eyes as round and dark and liquid as two cups of coffee.
"Nah," Sherry said briskly, making a squirt gun with her hands. "Just dizzy. Some people get dizzy when they stare at the water for a long time. It's called vertigo. Any of you guys feel dizzy? No? Great. So what are you doin' with dry faces? Let's all take a big breath and start bobbing!''
Zack grinned, shook his head, and started again for the steps. Damn, Maddy Gordon wasn't exactly a dainty little bundle. She was almost as tall as he was and… He glanced down, swallowed, and stared resolutely straight ahead. Healthy. Very healthy. And all that thin, wet black nylon did was make her look like she'd dipped that spectacular body in ink.
Zachary, you're an idiot, he told himself. This was obviously a woman with problems. And problems, heaven knows, he'd had enough of. With grim determination he divorced his libidinous mind from the warm, voluptuous body in his arms.
It wasn't as difficult as he'd thought it would be. The image that followed him out of the pool and into the office was of another face entirely. A pinched little face with scared brown saucer eyes that tore at his heart. What was her name, anyway? Oh, yeah. Theresa.
Maddy's first thought was: How strange. She was dry.
She opened her eyes and stared through a dark tunnel at a white moonscape, which turned into an acoustical ceiling as her field of vision slowly expanded.