Anton couldn't resist smiling. Undisclosed was obviously flustered at trying to explain herself, which both amused and intrigued him. So she wasn't all confidence and coyness. That was all right with him. It was even all right when his cheeks burned at her latter suggestion of swimming naked. He wasn't embarrassed or ashamed in the least. It was more that he'd not imagined such a thing and it caught him off guard. In the 1100s, men swam naked together. Women swam naked together. They rarely did so as a group, and while Anton was no stranger to the female form, he respected women too much to take advantage of them. Unlike some on the island, it seemed, who were foolish enough to do so with a child.
If he still cared for Helena as he had in the past, Anton knew he would not think such things. He would have instead rushed off to find the boy and strung him up from the nearest tree branch by his toes to hang until he realized the error of his ways. That, and the freedoms the island offered were getting to him.
When he'd regained his composure, Anton winked at the young woman and began peeling out of his shirt. He would let her follow along as she chose, but for now, he wouldn't burn her eyes with the pale skin hidden by his shorts. Shifting out of the sandals, he jogged into the surf and marveled at the wonderful feeling of warm water as it engulfed his legs. Never in all his life had he felt something so pleasant. The current was strong but not overpowering and the salt air seemed to invigorate his blood the further out he waded.
"I think I'll spare your eyes the agony," he called out. "For now, that is."