Peter had seen her at her scariest, or so he thought. He trusted her, trusted that she wouldn't hurt him. He might have been more concerned were it night time.
But now, in the sun...she was beautiful, all the more so for the undercurrent of threat that ran through her.
"I am plenty of fun," he corrected her, sliding his hand up her leg, from her knee, towards her hip. No prizes for guessing what kind of fun he meant, then.
She might not have made the joke, but he had watched Princess Bride too many times not to make a joke, dog reference or no.
"I only doggy paddle," he said in a thick french accent, waggling his hands in the air between them, miming swimming.