Siren's Call Part 4

He wanted her.

The only question that remained was whether or not she intended to respond. The temptation was certainly there.

Kenneth caught her move. "Headache?" Concern laced his words.

Hearing his voice, Tessa's hand immediately dropped. "A little." She cast around for a quick excuse. There was no way she'd ever admit she was suffering the effects of intense arousal. "I've been fighting with the d.a.m.n swamp cooler all day." The sensible thing to do right now was keep her distance.

Toying with his cigarettes, Kenneth sifted out a fresh one. Lit it. "Sorry. I guess I kind of barreled in on you." He took a deep drag. Smoke rushed through his nostrils, reminding her of the steam of a boiling volcano. His movements were suddenly awkward, uncomfortable. "Guess I was wondering what the h.e.l.l I thought I'd do when I got here. Sold the house, quit my job, and hit the road. Sounds like a plan, right?"

Tessa cleared her throat before allowing a brief smile. "Just stay out of the water, okay? I'm not saving your raggedy a.s.s twice."

He drew another lungful of smoke. The tip glowed red before dying in gray ashes. "What I'm looking for isn't there anymore," he said quietly.

Tessa recognized the strain in his eyes, the uncertainty hovering beneath his calm facade. He'd obviously picked up the vibes her body was giving off, but hadn't yet recognized the tension humming between them to be erotic in nature.

Heart doing a war dance in her chest, a little laugh slipped past her lips. Every nerve in her body was stretched taut. A thousand emotions were all tangled up inside her psyche, but she froze at the thought of acting on a single impulse. If he touched her now, she'd shatter.

She took a step back, putting a little distance between them. It wasn't easy to resist the electricity flickering between them. It was taking a supreme effort to pull her thoughts together, keep them coherent. This was something she wasn't ready to deal with. The day was already crazy enough without having to have s.e.xual pressure added to the mix.

Back off, she warned herself. And take things slow.

Tessa's heart sped up. She swallowed hard, panicky yet intrigued by the expression on his face. "What are you looking for?" she asked, almost afraid of what the answer might be.

Kenneth shook his head. "I'm not sure," he admitted. "But I hoped by coming back I'd be able to find it again."

Chapter 3.

Careful not to make a sound, Tessa crept toward the western edge of the island. There, craggy boulders gave way to a small cul-de-sac, the eroded remnants of a sandy reef. At low tide smaller rocks dotted the white sand, nature's perfect seat for sitting and just gazing at the ocean. Before the lighthouse had been constructed, this side of the island had caused a lot of damage to s.h.i.+ps attempting to make landfall.

Because of the abundance of water in the Port Rock area, fis.h.i.+ng and swimming were among the most popular activities. Sea kayaking and boat tours were also popular, which often meant the island saw more than its share of trespa.s.sers. Drawn by the lighthouse, many tourists chose to ignore the warning signs. If someone was in need, Tessa was glad to offer help. Otherwise she'd been known to get snappish, especially when people pulled out their cameras and started tramping around to get shots of the popular landmark.

Casting a furtive glance toward the lighthouse, Tessa breathed a little sigh of relief. It was dark, nary a sign of light or life about it. Its new occupant appeared to have settled in for the night. She'd waited until well after midnight to venture out, needing some time alone to contemplate the abrupt change in her solitary life.

A human had invaded her sacred s.p.a.ce. And this visitor wasn't just any human, but one who had a direct tie to her. Worse than that, pieces of the past were beginning to surface in his mind. It didn't take a rocket scientist to figure out what would be revealed if the picture were completed.

Not that she intended to help him figure things out. Anything Kenneth Randall thought might be bona fide could easily be explained away by emotional trauma.

Tessa grinned to herself, enjoying her role as keeper of the secrets. Despite the fact she genuinely liked the man, her inner Mer still wanted to crack the whip. Control was all important in her world. A wicked thought slithered out of the darkest corner of her mind. And the proof is in the tail.

In other words, she'd swear it was all a lie.

As one of the mermaids actually dwelling on Little Mer Island, Tessa knew the indigenous Native Americans regarded stories of the sea creatures inhabiting these waters as absolutely true. Those who lived in Port Rock also did their share to keep the lore alive, many doing a thriving business in mermaid-themed paraphernalia when tourists visited the isolated port. Fishermen working in the harbor were glad to encourage belief with stories of their own.

Some of those stories might even have a grain or two of truth.

Most of them didn't. Most of the tales were nothing more than fiction spun by locals who needed tourist dollars to keep their businesses in the black. According to them, the bay was teeming with mermaids.

Not true.

Aside from her own close- knit family, Tessa knew of no others. And unless she and her sisters found mates and had daughters of their own, their bloodline would soon be extinct in these parts.

Tessa glanced around, making double sure she was alone. The moon hung in the velvety sky, full and silvery, casting its luminous glow on the surface of the water. On calm nights the bay was a wonderful place to swim. She'd have about an hour to swim before the tide rolled back in and reclaimed the reef.

She slipped off her terry-cloth robe, tossing it over a nearby boulder. The cool night air lovingly caressed her bare skin. She wore not a single st.i.tch, not even the skimpy pieces of a bikini. The only thing she wore around her neck was her soul-stone, which she was never without. Upon birth a Mer was given her own crystal, which contained the vital part of the magic she'd learn to wield, including the ability to s.h.i.+ft. At this point in her life, Tessa still hadn't grasped the full scope of a Mer's abilities. Neither had her sisters. Their mother had pa.s.sed away just as she'd begun to pa.s.s on her knowledge to her three daughters. Tessa was barely fifteen years old when the automobile accident claimed both her parents.

Tessa followed the narrow beach to the water's edge. She didn't stop to test the temperature of the water, stepping straightaway into the chilly depth. Wet sand oozed up between her toes and she sank a little. She walked until the sandy bottom fell away beneath her feet, suddenly plunging into an endless depth.

Sighing with contentment, she treaded water for a few minutes. Her legs were bothering her, a restless sensation that wouldn't settle down. Her body felt crawly, like thousands of tiny insects skittered beneath the surface of her skin. The only remedy was a swim, where she could s.h.i.+ft into her true form. Once in the water, she could swim herself into exhaustion. After that, she'd be able to rest.

Taking a deep breath, Tessa dived. As the water rippled around her naked flesh, she s.h.i.+fted. Beneath the surface, her lungs filtered water like air. Her vision adjusted perfectly to the shadowy depths. Her movements driven by incredible flexibility and strength, she swam with strong, sure stokes.

Spotting a school of blue-tinted ba.s.s, Tessa darted through the pack. Offended by the disturbance, the fish scattered in a dozen different directions.

Drifting lazily in their wake, Tessa laughed. She could almost imagine them shaking their fins in anger. She wondered what they might be thinking, seeing a half-human, half-sea creature swimming among them. Contrary to popular belief, mermaids could not communicate with sea life, not even the more intelligent species. Just as people couldn't understand a cat's meow or a dog's bark, she had no earthly clue what the chirps and whistles of a dolphin might mean.

It was a silly part of the legend that annoyed her. Mermaids might be able to live on land and sea, but their main components were designed to mesh with those of oxygen breathing h.o.m.o sapiens. After all, there were no mermen. Mer females still needed human males to impregnate them.

A tremor unexpectedly shook her that had nothing to do with the fish she'd disturbed, but had everything to do with Kenneth Randall. His presence had sparked something inside her, a hunger she'd almost forgotten existed. Though she tried to deny it-had fought against it-the Mer were a highly sensual species. The desire to mate came as naturally as breathing. Having gone without physical relations for several years, a man's touch, however causal, was guaranteed to set her on fire.

It was my choice to live alone, she reluctantly reminded herself. My choice to stay here and not move to Port Rock. But in choosing the solitary island over the populated mainland, she'd mostly cut herself off from the outside world.

From all human contact.

Coming to a dead halt, Tessa closed her eyes and allowed herself to sink. She refused to breathe, doing her best to ignore the arousal Kenneth Randall had inadvertently piqued. She was attracted to him. No doubt there. His appeal had definitely set her body to simmering.

Three years had pa.s.sed since she'd been dumped by Jake Ma.s.sey. Surely that was long enough to get her emotional equilibrium back. Just because she'd gotten kicked to the curb didn't mean all men were pigs. It just meant she hadn't chosen the right man.

Tessa winced, drawing an involuntary breath. Good grief, she'd really dodged a bullet there. Thank the G.o.ddess they hadn't gone through with the mating ceremony. Once a mermaid linked with her human Breema, her breed-mate, the ties binding them could never be undone. It would have destroyed her to be married to a man who couldn't keep his d.i.c.k in his pants.

Jake had broken off their engagement the night before the ceremony. Tessa had spent the evening drinking too much wine and crying. Jake had spent it wrapped in the arms of some stripper he'd met at his bachelor party. As great a guy as Jake had appeared to be, she'd had to learn the hard way he was a self-centered, selfish individual. He thought only about his wants, his needs, and his satisfaction. Jake didn't care who he hurt as long as he got his way.

Having drifted beneath the surface long enough, Tessa reluctantly opened her eyes. s.h.i.+fting her position, she broke through the surface of the water a few moments later. Lights from the mainland sparkled in the distance.

Ignoring their lure, Tessa flipped over onto her back and just let herself float. She relaxed and drifted with the currents, allowing the water to take her where it wanted. Her mind drifted, too, inevitably turning toward the man who'd invaded her island. Much to her surprise, she wasn't as angry as she'd thought she'd be by his intrusion.

In fact, she welcomed it.

She needed a change, something to shake up the boring rut she'd fallen into. The idea of taking a lover hovered at the far recesses of her mind.

Tessa's internal temperature hitched up a notch. So did the heat in certain parts of her body. Oh, it had been such a long time since she'd allowed herself to revel in a man's touch, enjoy s.e.x for the sake of pure physical gratification. There were some needs that just couldn't be slaked with a battery-operated boyfriend.

Shuddering with need, Tessa ran her hands over her skin, palms lightly tracing the curve of her b.r.e.a.s.t.s, then the soft slope of her belly. It was perfectly acceptable for a Mer to have many partners before settling on her breed-mate, the male she would eventually choose to father her children.

She mulled the idea of finding a boyfriend on the mainland. Both Addison and Gwen had tried to set her up on blind dates.

Heart hammering against her rib cage, Tessa caught her breath. Did she really have the nerve to take a lover?

She definitely ached for physical contact, for a man's hard caresses on her hungry skin. The s.e.xual hunger driving her species was inborn, necessary.

Giving the plan more consideration, Tessa had to admit the idea held a lot of appeal. She could definitely use a no-strings-attached affair. And no law said she had to invest her emotions. She was almost thirty years old, for heaven's sake. No reason to let life entirely pa.s.s her by. Laying eyes on a hunk of man like Kenneth Randall reminded her exactly what she'd been missing out on. Had he not been so psychically damaged, she would have put him at the top of her list.

She made a quick decision. Time to loosen up and have some fun.

Reanimating her limp body, Tessa reluctantly forced herself to swim back toward the island. She'd drifted at least two miles, maybe more. Putting her tail in motion, she quickly closed the distance. An Olympic swimmer would have been envious of her speed and agility.

She reached the reef a few minutes later. She'd stayed in the water too long. The rising tide lapped at the hem of her abandoned robe. In a few more minutes it would carry the garment out to sea.

Tessa rescued the skimpy piece of clothing. Lose it now and she'd be walking home naked as a jaybird.

Still not tired of wearing her tail, she swam toward a boulder jutting out from a rocky outcropping. She tossed the robe, watching it hit its mark.

With a grace belying her clumsy proportions, she hefted herself up onto the weathered surface. Worn smooth and flat by the erosions of wind and water, the boulder provided the perfect place to stretch out and enjoy the view.

Flipping the tip of her tail in the water, she stared at the lights flickering on the distant mainland. A few years ago both her sisters had abandoned the island for human ways.

Gwen and Addison each maintained opposing views regarding their inborn talents. To Gwen being a Mer was a curse, something that kept her from fully integrating into the human community.

Addison was on the other side of the fence. Working in search and rescue, she'd learned to put her unique talent to good use. She was often called to all parts of the country to help in underwater recovery efforts. Where other divers would fail to bring up the goods, Addison succeeded nine times out of ten.

Turning her face up to feel the night breeze, Tessa heaved a sigh. She'd never felt more alone. Abandoned.

While her sisters had both forged successful ties to the mainland, Tessa was the sole holdout. The island was the last link to the Mer, who'd settled in these waters back when the land was still untamed wilderness. And while she knew her kind came from waters far away, she had no idea where that place might have once been on this earth. Like the legendary Atlantis, the fabled Mer homeland of Ishaldi appeared to have vanished far beneath the ocean's surface, all traces forever obliterated.

Sometimes Ishaldi was a place Tessa didn't think ever really existed. She'd listened with rapt attention to the stories her grandmother recounted, s.h.i.+vering as she imagined the devastating events that had sent the great seaport to a watery grave.

But she'd taken those stories with a grain of salt. Several grains, actually.

If Ishaldi had ever truly existed, its whereabouts remained a mystery. The seven seas, all consuming but ever silent, weren't going to give up their secrets. Not even to the daughters the salty waters had sp.a.w.ned.

A hot burn unexpectedly stung her lids, blurring her vision. Her throat closed, clogging with emotion. Thin tendrils of fog had begun to drift in from the sea. Taking on a s.h.i.+mmering ghostly form, the luminous mist undulated across the water. The mainland vanished, lights winking out of existence as the cloak thickened.

Tessa was all alone.

She s.h.i.+vered. "We're a part of this world," she whispered to the silent water. "But I don't think we've ever belonged."

Kenneth couldn't sleep.

Though he had the fan turned on high and had both windows open to let in the night breeze, the room was sticky and hot. Stripped down to the buff, he lay naked on top of the patchwork quilt. Beads of perspiration dotted his skin. The heat clung like a giant's smothering hand.

He sat up, rubbing his hands across his freshly shaved face. He'd already tried an ice-cold shower, and then another, to cool himself down. He'd even made an ice pack, wrapping cubes from the dorm-sized fridge into a washrag and icing himself down. And he'd already guzzled several of the beers Gwen had generously supplied. Having been off the booze for six months solid, the dark foreign brew she'd picked out had given him quite a buzz.

But the ability to close his eyes and simply drowse off eluded him. It was too hot and muggy.

Lowering his hands, he looked at the digital on the nightstand. The red numbers read 1:20. It didn't help that the fat yellow moon cast its s.h.i.+ne through the thin sheaf of curtains covering the window, lighting the narrow room up like a Christmas tree. A pair of blinds would be welcome.

He glanced around. Just as soon as he could manage it, he'd be installing a few things, including an air conditioner. He suspected part of the reason Tessa went through handymen so fast was because the quarters were uncomfortable.

Past providing the basics, there was nothing in the way of entertainment. No television or DVD player. h.e.l.l, not even a shelf of books. A man could work only so long. And once the day's ch.o.r.es were accomplished, a little entertainment was usually on a guy's mind. And while Tessa had made it clear he would be free to party on the mainland, no funny business would be allowed on her island.

He'd already decided that would suit him just fine. Right now he wasn't quite ready to get back into the social swing. The main thing he wanted to do was establish himself as a resident, get to know the locals, and familiarize himself with the lay of the land. Once he'd settled in, he figured he might be ready to venture on to the next step on the social ladder.

Finding some female companions.h.i.+p.

As it stood, he had a place to live and a job. Sure, the pay sucked. In fact, there wasn't any. Aside from agreeing to put a roof over his head and feed him, there would be no other compensation. Gwen had offered a small cash stipend, but he'd turned her down.

Truth be told, he didn't need the money.

Stare grimly fixed on the ceiling, Kenneth s.h.i.+vered, suddenly feeling the chill of Jennifer's murder all the way to his bones. His muscles bunched with tension. Right now there was no way he'd ever consider spending the money he'd inherited from her pa.s.sing. It was tainted with her blood. He'd even added more to the balance by selling the house and his half interest of the garage and salvage yard he owned with a buddy from high school.

The money was presently sitting, drawing interest. He kept half in liquid cash. The other half was invested, a tidy stock portfolio. He lived off the interest, never touching the princ.i.p.al. The monthly stipend added up to a very nice chunk of change. If he never wanted to work another day in his life, he didn't have to.

As far as he was concerned, his present job would suit him just fine. By the looks of the house and grounds, the list of repairs was a long one. He had at least six months of work ahead. Perhaps more. By that time he'd probably have his head on a little straighter. Maybe he'd even have a better idea about what he wanted to do with his life.

He looked around the room again. Despite its austerity, the place had potential. A big-screen television and a satellite dish would definitely add to its charm. Maybe he'd even look for an island of his own to buy. He liked the idea of living in the middle of the ocean, surrounded on all sides by water. The mainland was close enough to be accessible without having to suffer the annoyances of living in a tourist town. No wonder Tessa wouldn't give the island up.

Tessa . . .

He flopped back onto the bed, spreading out his arms and legs. Oh, boy. That redheaded spitfire was enough to raise his temperature all by herself. Remembering the skimpy attire she'd been wearing when he arrived was enough to send his internal mercury straight into the danger zone.

He licked dry lips. Just thinking about Tessa sent a fluttering sensation straight through his gut, sparking off an even deeper throb below. Certain parts of his lower anatomy were beginning to stir. It had been a long time since he'd considered getting physical with any woman.

Shuddering with need, a soft moan slipped between his lips. Although he knew his body was trying to tell him something, he'd steadfastly ignored the blatant signals. As much as he didn't want to admit it, he needed to get laid. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.

Groaning with frustration, Kenneth rolled off the bed, heading toward the bathroom. Turning on the cold tap, he stepped into the shower. Icy needles dug at his skin. There. That should help cool him down a little.

Drying off, he dug in his duffel for a clean pair of shorts. He'd slept in the buff since college and didn't own any pajamas, not even a pair of sweatpants. Next time he made a trip into town, he'd remedy the deficiencies in his personal wardrobe.

Feeling a twinge at the back of his throat, he reached for his cigarettes on the night table. No can do, he thought, recalling Tessa's strict admonition. He'd have to go outside.

Ken briefly considered skipping the smoke and going back to bed. Rethinking the oppressive heat and adding in the fact he was wound up tighter than a dime store yo-yo, he pulled on his clothes. Snagging another beer, he carried his drink and smokes down the winding stairs. The trip down was actually shorter than the trip up to the catwalk.

Plopping himself onto the ground at the base of the lighthouse, he twisted the cap off the bottle. The malted liquor went down smooth. He enjoyed the alcohol's burn on the back of his throat. Setting the bottle down, he lit up. The day had certainly taken a turn he hadn't expected. All in all, he felt strangely content.

Leaning back, he stared out over the bay. Soft waves rippled gently, illuminated by the light of a full moon.

Taking another drag off his cigarette, he tipped his head back. Lazy tendrils of smoke curled through the air, disappearing into the tangy salt-scented breeze. While the loft might be a sweat box, the night air was cool, refres.h.i.+ng. He had a feeling he would be camping out as long as the weather was good. According to Tessa, Lucky came to the island only once a month. He'd burn to a crisp before he managed to order and install a cooler in his place.

Turning his head, he glanced toward the house. The back of it was dark, the windows staring out over the ocean with dead, blank eyes. Tessa had snapped the lights out promptly at ten o'clock. The swamp cooler hummed like a charm, working perfectly.

Ken had to grin. It had taken about ten minutes to replace the motor. But it had taken another two hours to replace the wiring she'd somehow messed up. She would sleep in comfort while he sweated and simmered.