Iris's POV

"Dad? Iris?"

Her footsteps crossed the marble entrance hall, getting closer.

"Fuck," Rafael said under his breath, and he was already pulling himself out of the pool, water streaming off him, reaching for the towel on the lounger.

I scrambled after him, grabbing the pool steps, hauling myself out. I grabbed my soaked shorts from the concrete, yanked them up my legs with hands that were shaking so badly I nearly fell over. My tank top was beside the lounger. I snatched it, pulled it over my head, the wet fabric plastering itself to my skin immediately.

No bra. No underwear. Soaking wet from the pool and flushed...