Don Juan wasn't sure what to make of this. She'd edged closer to him and his heart had started racing, sure that something was about to happen... but then she suggested maybe they should get out of the water. Of course, they could have gotten out of the water and then kept doing this sort of thing, but that wasn't the feeling he had from the way she'd said it. The way she'd said it seemed like she was backing down. Maybe they'd continue chatting at the edge of the water for a few more minutes, but ultimately she was going to put her stockings back on and lace up her boots and go back into the castle. And she wasn't going to... what exactly was it that he wanted her to do instead? He wasn't sure. He knew academically what might happen beyond kissing, but he wasn't sure that was what he wanted from her right now. They weren't really that close, aside from being in classes together for seven years — it wasn't like he'd been dreaming about her, or anything. And if anyone caught them at that sort of thing there would be loads of trouble, possibly expelled-even-though-there's-only-a-month-left-of-school trouble, and he didn't want that. But seeing her bare legs in the water and watching the expression on her face when she crept closer to him had made his mouth dry, and he knew for sure that he didn't want her to leave.

"In a minute," he suggested. He leaned in and put his hand on her waist, his touch light and exploratory.

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