Wild Blue Under

by Judi Fennell

  “Uh… hi.” She rested her forehead against the sheet. Big mistake. She could smell them from here. Yes, them. Rod and her. She knew exactly what that scent was and so did her hormones.

  “We didn’t…” She peeked up again. “We didn’t, you know…”

  Rod shook his head. “No. Almost. But I woke you up.”

  Phew. That was a relief.

  Or… was it?

  “Almost?” She pulled her knees under herself and knelt by the side of the bed, keeping all naked parts hidden. His, however, were not, leaving absolutely nothing to her imagination.

  Blushing, she turned away, recognizing that somewhere in her brain, she was remembering exactly how that had felt against her.

  Rod sighed and she felt the bed move, heard the rustle of sheets.

  “It’s safe to turn around,” he said with some amusement in his voice.

  Define “safe.”

  So, okay, he’d covered the Welcome Wagon, but the rest of him was there, plain as day, a scrumptious feast for the eyes, even in the dim, early morning light.

  “Uh, so we didn’t…”

  “No. But I’m up for it if you are.” A twinkle sparkled in his green eyes, a slash of dimple appearing in his cheek. His fingers slid along the bed toward her. “You seemed pretty up a few minutes ago.”

  Ohgodohgod…

  “That was a few minutes ago.” Really, she didn’t sleep with strange men.

  Not that he was strange—or a stranger.

  Rod’s sigh said so much with so little. “I figured you’d say that.”

  Val looked on the bed and saw one of her towels half under Rod. Fat lot of good it’d done her.

  Change the subject, change the subject. “So you’re okay? No headache? Leg’s good?”

  Rod’s eyes narrowed. “I feel fine. Why shouldn’t I?”

  “You don’t remember?”

  Rod hefted himself onto his elbow. The sheet slid lower on his thigh, giving her a tantalizing glimpse of hipbone. “What should I remember?”

  Val yanked the towel out from under him and wrapped it around herself, tucking the end securely beneath her arm, and recounted the accident and Livingston’s medical advice.

  “Son of a—!” Rod sat up, swinging his legs off the edge of the bed. The sheet, however, hadn’t gotten the memo that it needed to keep up with his wayward body parts so she got another display of male perfection.

  This morning peep-show was becoming a habit.

  She glanced at the window where only the faintest glimmer of light trickled through the blinds. Barely morning peep-show, in every sense.

  “Where did Livingston get to?” Rod stood up while she spun around, determined not to look at all that splendor. She was only human, after all, and had been wrapped around that magnificence not ten minutes ago. Her hormones were still clamoring for a return trip.

  Livingston. Right. She remembered now. “He went to see what he could find out about the accident and work on some way to escape JR. He said to stay put until he came back.”

  She pulled his shorts off the chair by the radiator and handed them to him, eyes averted. “I think this is the best we’re going to do, clothes-wise. Livingston hadn’t realized our bags weren’t waterproof. They went for a swim last night getting from the car to the room.”

  “Thanks.” He took them from her and—yay!—she managed not to groan when his fingers touched hers.

  Envisioning him stepping into those shorts as she’d watched him do yesterday, now with full disclosure of all parts involved, Val counted to fifteen—then added another ten just to be sure—before grabbing her clothes and turning around.

  The shorts’ low ride on his hips didn’t help matters one bit.

  “I’ll, uh, just use the restroom, and…” She grabbed her wet duffel and inched toward the room at the back, sliding her butt along the dresser in an effort to keep from touching him.

  “Valerie, I’m not going to jump on you. I think I just proved that, didn’t I?”

  Honestly, she should be a virgin for all the face-flaming she was doing. Talk about awkward. “I know. It’s just that this is new for me.”

  “What? You’ve never slept with anyone before?”

  “No. It’s not that. I’ve never slept with someone I’d just met before.”

  Rod liked the sound of that.

  And then wondered why he did.

  It shouldn’t matter to him whom she’d slept with because she obviously wouldn’t be sleeping with him, since she was determined to return to her mother’s store.

  What that would mean for The Prophecy, he had no idea. Had the gods considered she might not want to embrace the Mer world?

  The door to the restroom closed behind her. What would it mean for him?

  Aside from the shot to the gut that thought elicited, he would not have the blame placed at his fins. The Council had said nothing about convincing her to accept Lance’s legacy, only to bring her to the coast. He was doing that. It shouldn’t affect his claim to the throne at all.

  But what if they didn’t make it to the coast?

  Rod picked up the diamond decanter from the dresser. JR had almost succeeded last night.

  That was what was so perplexing about this chase, this coup. The bird had nothing to gain by a coup. For all his seaworthiness, JR didn’t live under the sea. He could never come to Atlantis, nor claim the throne.

  And to have a personal vendetta against him? Rod couldn’t see it. Admittedly, he’d earned JR’s ire when he’d ditched the bodyguard during that school archipelago trip, but to have it in for him after so many selinos for a youthful indiscretion? That couldn’t be the reason.

  So who was he working for and, more importantly, why?

  Rod sat on the edge of the bed and rolled the decanter between his palms. That’s what was bothering him about this whole thing. What was he missing? Who was behind this? Who stood to gain the most?

  Nigel was the obvious choice. Well, Drake would be, but that idiot couldn’t manage to pass science class, let alone transport a bomb without blowing himself up. Nigel, on the other fin…

  But the Mer had dedicated his life to The Council. He wouldn’t jeopardize his station in life should the coup fail. He’d have to know all eyes would be on him, so it really made no sense.

  It could be the shark contingent who’d been making noise throughout the oceans recently. Vincent saving Reel from Kraken last selino was enough to merit representation on The Council in the sharks’ opinion—representation that hadn’t yet happened. So when they’d planned a Swim-In, Rod had called them on the inadvisability of the demonstration. The arena wasn’t large enough for the big guys to maneuver around and keep water flowing over their gills. He’d tried pointing out the logistical problems to the swim-bladderless beings, but good ol’ Hammerhead Harry had shouted him down, claiming it was another example of Council discrimination.

  Would that mark him for death? They couldn’t hope to affect positive change on their collective image by playing into the very stereotype they were trying to overcome, but then, Chondrichthyes were known more for their brawn than their brain.

  Of course, it could still be Ceto. She’d had a gripe against the gods ever since they’d forbidden her procreation abilities. She’d tried to kill Reel, and when that failed, she’d been put under Council arrest. She was still paying that debt to Mer society, so he doubted she’d be foolish enough to try something this big while all eyes were on her.

  None of it made sense. The rumors of a coup made this more than just a recovery mission, but why would the gods risk Valerie’s life?

  He’d never find the answers sitting here. No, they needed to get to the coast as soon as possible.

  Rod stood and stretched the kinks out of his back, then draped his damp T-shirt over his shoulders. He’d played by their rules
, done what was required—as usual—so the gods had better follow up on their end of the bargain.

  Valerie hadn’t signed on for this, and she sure as Hades wasn’t going to like it when it all played out, but it better have the chance to play out because, while he didn’t mind what the gods threw at him, injuring Valerie was not part of the deal. And they’d damn well better make sure that didn’t happen.

  He waited for the usual rumbling.

  Nothing.

  Hmm… Either the gods weren’t paying attention or maybe, just maybe, they recognized a valid argument when they overheard one.

  Val turned off the shower and toweled herself dry. At least the toiletries in the zippered compartment of her bag had survived their swim—along with, in an ironic twist of fate, the condoms left over from one last night with an old boyfriend. And those were still usable.

  Great. Did she really need the added temptation?

  She put on her bra, thankful it was thin enough to have dried during the night. The shirt wasn’t too bad, but her shorts were going to have her sitting in water all day. Ah, well, there wasn’t anything she could do about it. She certainly wasn’t going to go without shorts. Not after what she’d woken up to.

  She blocked that thought. Thinking about Rod’s naked body and hers sprawled all over it would do nothing but arouse her.

  Yep. It did. Arouse her.

  She sighed and ran her fingers through her hair. This trip was all about getting her inheritance, not starting a long-distance love affair.

  And who said he even wanted one? Just because he’d been kissing her didn’t mean he was thinking relationship. He had woken up to a naked woman in his arms. A naked woman who obviously returned the attraction.

  At least he’d been gentleman enough not to take it too far before she’d woken up completely. Just like she hadn’t taken advantage of him last night by not covering him with a towel—

  Wait a minute…

  He’d been injured last night. Badly. He shouldn’t be up and walking around after what happened to him. She’d seen his leg. That gash at his temple. Yet, this morning when she’d run her hands through his hair, there hadn’t even been a scar.

  What the hell was in that oil?

  She shoved all her personal effects into the duffel and yanked open the door, checking her own cut—now healed—on the way out. “Why don’t you have any marks on you?”

  Rod spun around, muscles rippling over his chest as he tossed a pillow onto the bed. “What?”

  “Cuts. Gashes. Blood. You were really banged up last night and now you don’t have a mark on you. And neither do I.” She walked over to him and grabbed his chin, turning his face this way and that. Not even a blemish. “What’s going on?”

  Rod jerked his jaw from her grasp, and the shirt slid off his shoulder. “Nothing’s going on, Valerie. That oil is a medication in my kingdom. That’s why Livingston insisted you use it instead of taking me to one of your medical facilities.”

  “Where is this kingdom, Rod? Why won’t you tell me?”

  Rod scanned her from head to toe, and even though there was nothing sexual about that look, it turned her on.

  Dammit! She didn’t want to lose the thread of this conversation. “Rod, please. Tell me what’s going on.”

  “I can’t, Valerie. Not yet. You—”

  “Don’t use the ‘won’t believe it’ excuse. I think I’ve seen enough that I’ll at least consider whatever you toss my way. You owe me that much.”

  Rod raked his fingers through his hair. “You’re right. I do owe you an explanation, but, unfortunately, that’s not my call. The Council will tell you everything.”

  “Oh, for pete’s sake. You’re kidding me, right? You’re not going to tell me because of some stupid rule that no one is even around to enforce?”

  You know, she didn’t have to do this. Those inheritance papers weren’t in his duffel bag, which meant they were somewhere in her apartment. If she went home, she could find out for herself who to contact and she wouldn’t have to go through this any more.

  “Valerie, that rule was made for very valid reasons and, I’m sorry, but as the next ruler, I have to uphold it. So, no, I can’t tell you.” He turned away from her to grab his duffel and started shoving his clothing in it.

  “Come on, Rod, you told me you’ve done everything your father asked of you your whole life. What’s it going to hurt if, just this once, you don’t do what he says? Live a little. Walk on the wild side. You certainly have enough stories of your brother doing that. You ought to take a page out of his book and give it a try. I mean, I may not have made the best choices in my life, but at least I wasn’t so afraid of breaking the rules that I haven’t lived.”

  Rod’s hand paused halfway to the bag with the damp jeans. His shoulders stiffened when he inhaled. But he didn’t turn around.

  “I broke the rules once, Valerie. With the most disastrous results you can imagine. I haven’t seen much of my brother since then and won’t get to see him for much longer. Rules are created for reasons, as I learned to my eternal regret. I can’t undo that one mistake, but I sure as Hades can prevent committing another one. So, no. I can’t break this rule. Not even for you. You’ll find out everything you need to know, all the answers to your questions, when we reach the coast. That’s the best I can do.” He shoved his jeans in the bag as if he were punching someone.

  His voice was low and quiet. Different from when he’d been comforting her yesterday. Different from when he’d kissed her just now, when his body had let her know how much he’d wanted her.

  It was a quiet that spoke of pain.

  She never would have guessed; he hid it so well. Perhaps buried it so deep.

  And she couldn’t even begin to know how to respond to that.

  Livingston’s squawk outside their door saved her from having to. “Open up, folks. It’s time to get moving.”

  Chapter 26

  Rod opened the door, thankful for the interruption. Her comments had gotten to him. Walk on the wild side? Live a little?

  First of all, he was done with this walking nightmare. It was time to get back to the ocean and swim. To use the Travel Chambers. Some way other than this ungodsly long, cross-country journey.

  Second, as instigator of that dare, he knew all about the wild side—and its ramifications, like “living a little.” Hades, he’d live for a long time; Reel was the one who’d only get to live a little of life.

  Livingston hopped into the room, a bagel around his beak. He slid it to the floor, stepped on it with one webbed foot, then took a bite.

  “Livingston? Something you want to share?” Rod shut the door behind the ASA Chief.

  The gull looked up, guilt in his eyes. “You want a bagel?”

  Valerie snorted and sat on the bed. The bed Rod had woken in with her in his arms—“Your reconnaissance.”

  “Oh. Right.” Livingston swallowed the bite. “Here’s the good news. There’s an airport about an hour south of here that’s free and clear of JR’s minions, as is this parking lot.”

  “And the bad news?”

  “We have to leave now and the car doesn’t look like it’s in any shape to make it. If you buy the truck out there from the kid in the office, we can get out of here without JR noticing.”

  “Good idea.” Rod drew the wad of soggy currency from the side pocket of his bag and peeled off a few of the larger bills. A pawnshop and a few sunken treasure artifacts had ensured that cash was the least of his worries. “Do you think this is enough, Valerie?”

  Valerie stood up and shoved her fingers into the pockets of her shorts. The waistband dipped below her shirt, exposing the bottom half-moon of her navel. He’d traced that indentation earlier…

  Rod stuck his hands in his own pockets, balling his fists so the fabric wouldn’t reveal a certain part of him that also remembered
her navel.

  He dragged his eyes to her face.

  Which didn’t do any good when she ran her tongue over her bottom lip.

  “Enough? Oh it’ll be enough.” She took the money. “You know, I really hope all this cloak-and-dagger stuff is worth it, guys, because so far I’ve had to take everything you’ve said on faith. Which has gotten me chased by birds, my car totaled, and now I’m going to beg the night clerk to let us borrow his truck so we can head to an ocean I’m allergic to, all without knowing who you are, what country you’re from, and if all of this is even real.

  “I deserve to know what’s going on, Rod. If I can go with the flow of magic oil and suddenly appearing hay bales on an interstate, not to mention a wad of cash that would make a bank manager’s day, I’m sure whatever you dish out won’t be half as tough to believe as you think it will be.”

  She had a point. Most Humans wouldn’t have taken everything as well as she had. “True.”

  “Good. Because I’m just about at the end of my rope, and heading home is looking better by the minute.” She stuffed the currency into her pocket and went out the door. “I’ll offer the clerk his jackpot, and we can talk on the way to the airport. Which plane I get on depends on you.”

  “You need to tell her something.” Livingston tossed the rest of the bagel into the trash can with a perfect water-polo shot after she left. “She does have a point about having put up with everything else.”

  “What would you have me tell her, Livingston?” Rod sighed. “Tails are hard to believe without actually seeing them. Not to mention, The Council has forbidden it.”

  “Did they? Or did they say she can’t know about Mers? You don’t have to mention Mers at all.”

  Livingston might actually be onto something. “I’ll think about it.”

  “Good. Because we need her on that plane.”

  “I know, Livingston. Trust me. I know exactly what’s at stake here.”

  “At least one of you does.”

  Chapter 27

  Rod used the shower while Valerie was gone, needing to feel water sluicing over his flesh, even if it was fresh water. He hated to put clothing on when he finished.