Page 9 of Naked Truth

Dom continues to look at me expectantly, and I sigh, then shift away from him to reach into my bag. I recover the thin stack of photos, and offer them up to him. Unlike the picture of the couple holding the baby girl, these photos are far more damaged, offering little more than shadowy smudges of people against various backgrounds, all of them mere ink blots.

Dom frowns. “I…I think I have seen some of these photos,” he murmurs. “They may be copies of some my Camila had pressed into books. May I take them?”

“Ah…of course,” I say, staring at the small packet as it disappears into the pocket of his lapel. Though the pictures are useless to me, I can’t help feeling sad to see them go. They’re all I have left of my past. If Dom Hernandez doesn’t turn out to be my grandfather, I don’t know if I’ll see them again.

At this point, Dom Hernandez stops and I realize we’ve come to an open space far away from the revelry of the main party—but one of stunning beauty. The steps of his colorful hacienda sweep down to a park-like setting, filled with trees and flowering bushes and fountains, all of it lit up with fairy lights.

“What is this place?” I gasp, taking a step down. I think I even see a pool in the distance. “It’s beautiful!” I’m overwhelmed with a rush of emotion I can’t quite understand—I only know that I want to explore this secret garden, lit up so magnificently in the darkening evening.

“Raoul will show you,” Dom says, nodding. “If you’ll let us speak together for a moment, first?”

“Oh yes, of course,” I nod quickly. Without waiting for him to give me any further permission, I trot down the stairs and follow the winding path around one large bubbling fountain and beneath a profusion of flowering bushes. In a matter of seconds, I’m swallowed whole by the velvety evening, and I twirl on the path, suddenly wanting to feel the soft, sensual breeze on my skin…and only my skin.

I come around another corner, and I slow to a stop, gasping. A shimmering swimming pool stretches before me in a graceful oval, the water reflecting all the lights hanging on the trees around it.

I lean down, testing the water—and it’s warm to the touch. Another unbearable need sweeps through me, and I don’t even hesitate. Impulsively grabbing the hem of my shift, I quickly pull it over my head, then drop it at the side of the pool. Then I sit on the edge of the water, and slide into its sensual embrace.

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