She tugged open the button on her jeans, then used the toe of one boot to pry off the heel of the other. That lazy Tom Sawyer was just lying there without a care in the world, while his virtuous wife had been slaving the entire morning. Even reclining, he looked tall and lanky. Big feet. Lustrous, thick brown hair, coppery skin and a square face with clean, precise lines. Blue eyes-but not at all like her own blue eyes. Hers were plain old blue; his were Spencer Tracy sassy, the kind of eyes that took their humor slow and lazy. He wasn’t very smart-no one with any intelligence worked his way through college with all As, completed two years of law school and then fell for a derelict old mismanaged farm-but Bett was rather attached to him. For one thing, he generally handled the impulsive surprises she handed out pretty well.

With an impish grin, she left her jeans in a heap-her underpants had naturally come off with them-and tiptoed out into the sun.

Zach lifted one lazy eyebrow at the sound of the splash, then the second one when he glimpsed the distinct flash of a bare white thigh. He hunkered up just a little higher on the fallen log to get a better view, carefully making sure his eyes were closed every time the mermaid surfaced for air-and to look his way.

Sleek white limbs skimmed gracefully just beneath the water’s surface; a stream of long blond hair swirled around her shoulders. Bett was built like a miniature, compact, exquisitely detailed time bomb. How in the hell had he ever married such a tease?

He stretched out one leg to better view Bett’s back float. It was only for a minute; Bett was a terrific swimmer, but a lousy floater. She sank. Not before she’d shown off exactly what she’d intended to. Two tiny, wrinkled nipples that looked in terrible danger of being sunburned; they were that vulnerable.