Finally, I understood. "That's why you wouldn't look at me or even speak to me? You thought I was a ghost – that I wasn't real." It was my turn to apologise. "I thought you were deliberately ignoring me and being incredibly rude. When I boarded the Islander, all I wanted to do was kick you." I hesitated, then continued, "That's why I stole your chocolate cake."
"My cake?" His expression turned blank before realisation dropped his jaw. "You mean the one that went missing on the voyage here. You stowed away on the Islander?" At my nod, he ploughed on. "That night on the foredeck. You watched the dolphins beside me, didn't you? You were so close. All I'd had to do was reach out and I could have held you in my arms again."
I smiled wistfully. "You still can. I'm here now."
"And the trunk...that trunk is yours, isn't it?"
"Of course. One of the lumpers carried it to the Islander's hold for me, which was a godsend, as I didn't think I could have dragged it another step, having lugged it all the way from home to the wharf. I think I would have cried if I had to drag it up from the cove to this house, too."
"All this time, you've been here – hiding in the jungle!" He shook his head in disbelief. "I should stop staring at you and dress for dinner."
While he changed his clothes, I dug through the trunk for my comb, the precious tortoiseshell one William had given me on the Trevessa. My hair had dried in salty tangles on the long walk home and I sat on the edge of the bed to sort them out.
I'd barely made any headway before I felt William sit on the bed. He threw one leg on the blanket beside me, pressing closer so I could feel the heat of him at my back. His fingers closed around mine and the comb. "Let me take care of that for you." Willingly, I surrendered the comb and my tangled tresses to William.
His skilful hands rapidly tamed my hair, then bound it into a braid, just as he had on the Trevessa. This time, I thanked him with a kiss.
William took my hands and pulled me to my feet. "Shall we?" He offered his arm and I took it.
Twenty-Three
When we entered the dining room, Jackson rose from his chair. I glanced at William, who didn't seem to find this unusual. William helped me into my seat, before taking the one beside me.
"My house is full of coolies whose houses were buried in this morning's landslide. A man can't think with so much noise in the house. We'll have to find somewhere else for them to stay until the houses are rebuilt or dug out," Jackson said. "You have plenty of space here. You could take a few. Take the pressure off my wife and me."
William poured himself a glass of water and gulped half of it down before he remembered me. He poured me a drink, too, which I sipped carefully.
"Why didn't you just move them in today while I was working? Seems that would have been easier for everybody," William said.
Jackson laughed – nervously, I thought. "I don't know what you've done, but all the coolies are terrified of you. Wouldn't set foot in your house without your permission, no matter what I said."
William gave a tiny smile, which he hid behind his glass as he took another drink.
Just like on the ship, it must have been the fighting bouts. William had built up some sort of respect through them. Whether it was his ability to beat any of them in a fair fight or the offer of prize money if they won, they wouldn't act against him.
"Mrs McGregor," Jackson began. "Surely you can find it in your heart to help the poor unfortunates who have no homes. There was a landslide this morning in the cove and many of the mine workers' homes are buried beneath tons of mud. They need a place to stay and you have so much space in your home."
"This is my first night in a new house in a new place, Mr Jackson," I replied carefully. "I'm not sure I'm ready to accept strangers in my house, too. I did see a big, new building down near the port, though – some sort of club, William told me. That looks like a good place to house people temporarily." I saw William hide his approving smile.
Two Chinese women entered the room carrying steaming bowls, which they set down before us. I picked up my spoon and tasted the soup. From the grease it left on my lips to its general lack of taste, it left me with no desire for any more of the stuff.
Jackson tried again. "McGregor, explain to your wife how we do things here. Christmas Island is no place to be delicate. Why, you already have strangers – servants – in your house!"
"But they sleep in the servants' quarters or at home with their own families," I said. "Not in the house. Mr Jackson..."
He slammed a hand down on the table. "Now, see here, woman. I'm the island manager here and what I say goes!" He rose. "I'll send them over in about an hour. Have your servants prepare rooms for them." He didn't move as if he was waiting for some sort of surrender from me – or for William to rein me in.
William slurped his soup as Jackson looked from him to me.
"Well?"
William set down his spoon. "You're the island manager, but it seems to me that my wife is mistress of this house. Now, I haven't seen her in a long time and I've missed her a great deal. I wouldn't want to be on her bad side this evening." He winked at Jackson.
Jackson turned an interesting shade of red. "I'm sure this crisis takes precedence over how much you've missed your wife, however much you might love her. I'm heading home now and when I get back, you'd better be ready for..."
I rose, noting that I matched Jackson in height. "Mr Jackson, if you return in an hour, I think you'll find that there are no servants to answer the door because I'll have sent them home. Neither William nor I will answer you, for we'll be in no state for company. And if you decide to billet some poor people on us tonight, I assure you they'll get no sleep, for William and I have a lot to catch up on and William has promised me a delightful night which will not be a quiet one." I met his eyes and didn't drop my gaze.
"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," Jackson said coldly. His blush said otherwise.
I grinned. "Then you should probably discuss that with your wife. I hope she can enlighten you on what you're doing wrong. Good night, Mr Jackson."
William laughed. "Good night, Jackson. I'll see you in the morning and if I'm not too tired, I'll see if I can help you find somewhere the coolies can sleep until they finish rebuilding."
The angry island manager stormed out.
A bat flew through the open door and landed in my luke-warm soup, splattering the stuff everywhere. I burst out laughing. This island had the strangest, most intrusive wildlife I'd ever encountered.
The two women returned to clean up the mess. A few minutes saw the soup bowls gone and our main course set on a clean table.
William lifted his wineglass to toast me. "To my beautiful wife-to-be, small victories and the sanctity of our home."
I lifted my glass in response and we both drank.
William swallowed quickly and added, "All this talk of a delightful night has inflamed my imagination. I'm afraid if you say much more, I'll lay you on the table beside the plates and devour you instead."
I laughed and blushed. William seemed to be reading my mind.
Twenty-Four
I kept my word to Jackson – within an hour, we were done with dinner and William's staff had shuffled down the steps to their own homes for the night. Anticipating a night in bed with William, I eagerly led the way to his bedroom, unbuttoning my dress on the way. I threw it over a chair and struggled with the fastenings of my brassiere. I'd been swimming naked for so long that I'd forgotten about the tricky things and no matter how much I craned my neck, I couldn't see to unfasten the damned thing. It felt like I'd managed to moor it to my own hair.
I glanced at William, but he had his back to me as he unbuttoned his own shirt. "William, can you please help me with this?"
Reluctantly, he dragged himself across the room and fumbled around against my back. I chanced a look over my shoulder at him and saw the man had his eyes closed. I burst out laughing and his eyes popped open. "What?" he asked grumpily, yanking my braid free from the hooks.
"Oh God...sweet and round and ripe and...why did you have to say melons? I won't be able to sleep for thinking about them now. As if lying beside you weren't enough to keep me awake. I'll be a gentleman, I swear – I won't lift the hem of your nightdress, though it'll kill me not to." William covered his face with his hands.
I took his hands in mine. "What nightdress? Do you think I'd wear something so silly on our first night together? I'm not sure if it's the same among your people, but among mine a couple's first night together is an occasion for pleasurable intimacy." Carefully, I covered my breasts with his hands.
William tore his hands away. "When we're married, yes, but not before. I will worship your body from dusk 'til dawn on our wedding night, but tonight....tonight..."
"Things are much simpler among my people than yours. What you call a marriage is an agreement between two people, made before witnesses, yes? Among my people, that is all it is. Two people agree to be partners in life and they inform someone in authority. It's the pledge that makes the partnership, not how loudly it's proclaimed." I shrugged. I'd seen the elaborate weddings in St Patrick's Basilica in Fremantle and I couldn't imagine ever wanting such ceremony for anything in my life. "I don't understand. Once the partnership is official, the night of celebration begins. We...we said our pledges in the clearing by the Grotto and told your angry superior, Jackson, that I am your wife. Now you tell me our words are worthless and you won't touch me while we share a bed? That I must wait and undertake another dangerous sea voyage with you – one that might separate both of us forever?" I gestured at my body. "Don't you want me?"
He swallowed. "More than anything." He stared at my breasts as he seemed to struggle with something in his head. "I can't bear to lose you again, lass. I want you to be mine in every way possible – yesterday if I could make it so. You are...by your rules, we are already...married?" I nodded slowly. "Which means that you want...nay, expect me to make love to you tonight?"
I managed an uncertain, watery smile. "Please?"
His eyes held mine and I didn't dare look away. I stared into the ocean depths through his irises and I knew I was home. And in the darkness of the depths, a light kindled. His lips landed on mine and sucked away my breath like a drowning man might. Powerful arms lifted me off my feet, holding me tight against his hard chest as he carried me to the bed. He laid me down reverently, the feather pillows crackling under my head. His eyes never left mine as he stripped off the remainder of his clothes and sat on the edge of the bed.
Strong hands cupped my breasts as if they were as fragile as glass. "These," he began, "are sweeter and softer than any melon." He trailed kisses up from my belly to my breasts, then pressed his lips to each nipple in turn. His tongue traced a spiral around my right nipple, then my left. "I've never seen anything more beautiful, nor tasted anything so delicious." His fingers caressed my breasts. "And here...right here, beats your warm heart, alive and promised to me." A fervent kiss landed on my left breast.
I stroked his hair. "Yes." It came out as a whisper.
He leaned over further so that his muscled chest lay against my breasts, and he kissed me deeply. His tongue overpowered mine, reminding me of the storm currents that had stroked my body in the cyclone, caressing me with raw power that left me breathless.
We broke for air and I found myself panting. He truly had stolen my breath, but I'd have given it gladly.
He stroked my thighs and I willingly parted them, my desire rising as he knelt between my legs. He bent to kiss my breasts again, brushing his lips down my belly to my navel. His hot breath tickled my skin. "I'm going to claim your body, lass, claim it so completely that nothing will ever part us again." He didn't wait for me to reply. He thrust his tongue inside me, licking my lower lips so hard that I shuddered in pleasure. "As wet and salty as the sea I plucked you from. I'm damn glad I did." His fingers held me open as his tongue plundered my insides until a wave of pleasure engulfed me.
"William...William!" I gasped, hearing him chuckle as he carefully kissed my thigh.
"I'll never tire of hearing you say my name like that, lass, but you're a hard woman to resist. Are you ready for more?"
I looked deep into his eyes as I reached for him. "Oh, yes."
I cried out for joy as he surged into me more powerfully than the swell into the caves below, sending wave after wave of ecstasy through my body until his shout echoed mine. This wasn't the ocean's triumph at all. This was mine and William's alone.
Author's Note
All three Turbulence and Triumph books – Ocean's Justice, Ocean's Trial and Ocean's Triumph – are set between 1923 and 1932 and they're prequels to my Ocean's Gift series about modern-day mermaids.
When I set out to write Turbulence and Triumph, it was one short novella about how Sirena met William at Christmas Island. Little did I know she'd known him for longer than that...and one novella became three. As there are almost eighty years between the end of Ocean's Triumph and Joe Fisher's first trip to the Houtman Abrolhos in 2011 in Ocean's Gift, I can't rule out more prequels, as Sirena's rise to power is quite as turbulent as the woman herself. If you'd like to be the first to know when these will be available, you can join my email subscribers HERE.
Those who have read my Mel Goes to Hell series might recognise Merry (Meryl) D'Angelo. Yes, she is.
The rest of the Ocean's Gift series is set in Western Australia in the present day.
What follows is a bonus sample section from Ocean's Gift, the first book in the series, which you can buy HERE..
1. SIRENA
The ocean gave him to me.
I was angry, as any girl of sixteen would be. I'd been ordered by my elders to go and find a strong man, one I could join with to produce a healthy child. My hopes, my dreams and my plans were of no consequence. My destiny was to entice a man to choose me as his plaything – to be a piece of flesh to bait a shark. Or to be a baby seal, tempting a killer whale? The example did not matter. The end would be the same – the end of my control over what had been my life.
I swam in the storm, revelling in the power of the waves, which pushed a little wooden sailing boat through the maelstrom on the surface over my head. Two men struggled to control the small craft with two wooden oars, the vessel's only means of propulsion once the sail was torn away in the wind. One man dived from the boat, slicing into the water like a knife surrounded by bubbles. There was a line of twisted fibre in his hand as he swam with difficulty for shore.
The little boat rocked in reaction to the diver's spring. The wind caught the remnants of the sail, a big wave washed over the side and the vessel tipped under the surface, sinking slowly. I dodged through the debris as it drifted in the current away from the little boat.
The surface above me churned where the second man had been thrown into the water. He thrashed around and it was clear he could not swim. The waves pushed us together and he clung to me, his arms warm as he wrapped them around me. I gave him my breath and took him to the surface. As we drifted between the waves, still he would not let me go.
He called me his Lady of the Sea, his angel. I gave him my breath again, before I dove under the waves with him.
We surfaced near a small island of sand, washed by the waves. Here he would be safe.
He shivered, in wet clothes on wet sand. He called me Santa Maria, his Lady of the Sea who had answered his prayer.
If I was to save him, I had to keep him warm. Yet I had no human accoutrements, nothing warm or dry with which to assist him. Only me.
I concentrated on my form, letting my tail part, my skin pale and my gills fade. To save this man, I needed to be human.
Or as close as I could be.
He kissed and clung to the naked human girl by
his side, who could think of only one way to warm him. He kissed my lips and my blood responded with a wave of heat, akin in power to the waves of the storm on my body.
We warmed one another, as the storm and the waves raged around us. He clung to me even when exhaustion claimed us.
When I awoke, the storm had dissipated. I could return this man to his people and he would live.
Whilst he still slept, I carried him through the water to the island where his kind lived. Yet in the deep water there were sharks, attracted by the man's blood.
Mine.
Leaving him floating on the surface, I charged the sharks, shouting my claim to drive them off. It came to blows to drive the last one away, before I could return for my human.
Yet he was not on the surface when I returned. The water in his clothing had dragged him down, into the deep where he could not breathe. I gave him my breath, over and over, in a poor, cold imitation of his ardent kisses, yet I could breathe no life into his body.
The ocean gave me this man, his life to save, then stole his breath even as I tried to save him. The man who called me an angel, Maria, as he loved me for a storm.
I cursed the islands, for they were cursed already. I would not go ashore on these wretched rocks, to conceive a child to take back to my sisters in the deep. No child conceived in such bitterness would survive inside me to be birthed at the Nursery Grounds. So I resolved to tell my elders, when I returned to them.
I cannot carry a child for you. Even the ocean is against it.
In a sea of rebelliousness, the girl he called Maria was lost, as I turned tail and dove deep.
2. JOE
I like setting up remote mining camps. Inland Western Australia is one of the few places in the world where you can drive out of civilisation in the morning and know you're in the middle of nowhere when you stop at the end of the day.
Ocean's Triumph Page 7