Elinor could feel the steam rising from her, she was so furious. How dare he make more of a spectacle of them?
"Ready, Ms. Prescott?"
"Ready, Mr. Whittier," she sang back, her smile sweetly poisonous.
"All right. Here goes." He wound up, his powerful arms straining back to hurl the ball.
She closed her eyes, preparing to splash into the tank.
Thunk. It went wide. Very wide.
Elinor looked at Cole suspiciously while the crowd razzed him.
Again, he pulled back and let the ball fly. Thunk. The ball went wide again, but seemed an inch or two closer to the target.
Cole picked up a third ball. "I'm willing to make a deal with you, Ms. Prescott."
"Not a chance," she shot back, her anxiety lessening. Maybe there was one thing that Cole Whittier couldn't do. Just because a man looked like an athlete didn't mean he had the skills of one.
Thunk. The third ball missed by less distance.
"What's the matter, Mr. Whittier? Didn't you get to play in Little League?" Elinor fluffed out her short skirt.
"As a matter of fact, El, I did." The ball left his hand in a blur. Crack!
Elinor felt the small platform break away beneath her as she plunged into the lukewarm water. Gasping, she surfaced seconds later to hear the wild cheers from the crowd.
Once the platform clicked back into position, she carefully climbed back up. Her milkmaid dress felt heavy with water, the once-puffy skirt bunched around her thighs like a furled umbrella. Settling herself back on to her perch, she tugged at the bodice, pulled lower by the weight of the water.
She brushed back the strands of bedraggled hair that obscured her vision and forced herself to smile broadly at the crowd.
Cole stood waiting, his white shirt drying in the Louisiana sun. "Ready to talk business?"
Elinor's smile turned razor-sharp. "I only do business with people I can trust."
The buzz from the growing crowd rose with her comment as Cole shook his head. "You leave me no choice, El."
Again the ball left his hand. Crack. The crowd of townspeople disappeared from view as she plunged into the tank.
"Ready to talk turkey?" Cole called out to her as she climbed out and positioned herself again on the platform.
"No!" Elinor tugged valiantly at her shrinking bodice.
"Okay," he said sadly. "Here we go again."
This time she was fully prepared. Crack. She dropped into the water like a stone. Seconds later, she grabbed at the ladder with both hands and hauled herself out of the tank once more.
The crowd around Cole had taken on the air of a party, Elinor realized as she flipped her skirt aside and perched on the too-familiar platform. "Anybody got a snorkel handy?" she yelled as she wrung out her streaming hair. With the options of looking like a martyred fool or an intentional fool, she'd choose the latter.
Laughter echoed around the group.
"Ready to say 'uncle'?" Cole asked, the warmth in his eyes reaching out to her.
"Not on your life." She tugged at her once-perky sleeves.
Crack.
The next few minutes passed by in a blur. Elinor lost track of how many times Cole wound up and let fly, sending her into the tepid water over and over again. She could feel scales growing on her skin, possibly her body's attempt at modesty since the milkmaid's outfit grew smaller by the minute. Outside of her doctor and a few close friends, nobody had seen more of her skin than was on display at this moment.
Crack.
Water closed over her head before she had time to close her mouth. Elinor came up sputtering, vaguely aware of a ringing in her ears.
Once more she went through the routine, climbing onto the platform, fluffing her skirt, wringing her hair. The crowd seemed divided now, half of them cheering for Cole's unprecedented accuracy and half of them chanting, "Go, Elly! Go, Elly!"
Through water-logged eyes, she could make out a few faces, noting that the battle seeming divided by gender. Surprisingly, even Norell seemed to be cheering her on.
Crack.
This time water went up her nose and Elinor reared out of the tank, coughing. The crowd was one continuous roar in her ears as she strove for her breath.
Enough was enough. Proving a point wouldn't give her much satisfaction if she had to die for it.
"Uncle!" she cried out, throwing herself across the platform like a beached whale.
Applause rose from the crowd as people realized the spectacle was over. Clusters of citizens began drifting away.
Elinor climbed up the ladder, her limbs shaking. Throwing her leg over the side of the tank, she felt for the outside ladder.
"Here it is." A large, warm hand closed around her wet calf.
"I can manage fine by myself," she gasped out angrily just before missing her footing. She fell back a few inches, feeling Cole's solid arms close around her.
"Give yourself a minute to get your land legs." His amused voice was close to her ear.
"Let go of me!" Elinor jerked away.
"Hang on, El." He reached out to steady her, his hand catching on a sodden puffed sleeve. Rippppp.
Aghast, she looked down at her torn bodice. Rent from neck to waist, the water-logged material fell open to expose her bare breasts. Elinor shrieked, crossing her arms in front of her instinctively.
In a flash, Cole stepped in front of her, shielding her predicament from the few people who still lingered in front of the booth. "It's okay, El, no one saw." His voice was tight with restrained laughter.
Rage flowered in Elinor's head. "Cole Whittier, get away from me before I kill you," she ground out from between clenched teeth.
His shoulders shaking with mirth, he took a step closer. "I don't think you really mean that, honey. Not at this exact moment."
"My life was fine before you came here," she sputtered in a low, emotion-riddled voice. "You have done nothing but scheme against me—"
"El? Do you really want to have this conversation standing here holding your dress together?" Cole started shrugging out of his shirt.
Elinor clenched her tongue between her teeth. He had invaded her heart and her mind to such a degree that she felt barely aware of her actions. The man was making her crazy. "What are you doing?" she snapped as he pulled his arm free of his shirtsleeve. His tanned shoulders gleamed bronze in the afternoon light.
"I'm minimizing your exposure," Cole soothed as he dropped the shirt over her.