“Don’t go there,” she softly directed herself. She’d been too young to save them, and reliving that day never lessened the pain or guilt of surviving.
She wrapped her arms around her middle to keep her jacket closed. The spray from the ocean was enough to cause her skin to begin to change. From smooth flesh, her underbelly beneath this shirt itched and burned. She didn’t need to touch her skin to know the outline of scales were near to erupting. She retreated from the shore. A driving force she’d avoided, yet could not escape.
Wyatt’s shadow crossed hers on the sand. “Hey, where are you going?” He moved in front of her, still wearing her purse, and bent down, kneeling in front of her. “I didn’t even see where I was standing down there. Honestly, I’ve seen so many beaches, when one this enthralling is available, I tend to get lost. I’m not as dense as I might appear.”
“I’m only glad you’re pleased.”
“More than pleased.” He grazed his fingers over her face. Flitting and fast. A rare moment to share with another person so close to her real home. “If you run off, I’ll find you. I promise.”
Never before had she stood here with a man she found so humanly appealing. His overreaching appeal made loneliness stab her. Tears spiked her eyes: the only form of salt water that didn’t force her to transform from human to partial fish.
No curse, no story, no painting could describe what she’d become when wet. From human to a myth unlocked. Not a tiny detail or glitch, her story came complete with mythological proportions in the form of a sleek body, hard to miss with the shimmering variations of turquoise, aqua, midnight blue. What would he think about her? Mermaid, siren, goddess of the sea. Or a mishap of nature.
Whatever the term, it would not matter. To transform in daylight equated a prison sentence where she’d be captured, studied, and kept locked away. Alone.
So she never dated, never swam in the daylight, and never once imagined she’d have an excuse to risk her secret. Until now.
Chapter Four
Wyatt had parked behind Marissa, watching her for several minutes and still he couldn’t get over being around her. She’d seemed frozen as she had stared at the ocean. That quality sunk in deep. Rarely had he found another person mesmerized by sea. It was the reason he built condos on beachfront property. His excuse to be constantly near the sea, in all its glorious forms. He and his parents had lived on a sailboat docked at the marina. Starting in childhood, his father had taught him how to sail, snorkel, and navigate by the stars. Then on his twelfth birthday, his parents had introduced him to the quiet, magical world by teaching him how to dive. Alone under water, he’d felt a bond with the ocean. He loved the feel of the sand and saltwater. His destiny and one he never fought but carefully propagated into an international business. No need to tell Fortune his secret reason for success.
Now, ever since he’d followed Sinclair down a hall and was left standing in the doorway with a pair of bewitching, aqua eyes staring back at him, his only thought was damn it had been a long time since he’d gotten lost.
His head still spun from the rapid-fire questions Marissa had launched inside her office. He could tell after spending five seconds with her, this woman didn’t mess around. Not across a conference table and not with a man who was her client. But hell, he wished the last part was negotiable.
They’d left her office, and he was supposed to meet her at the first property, except Hannah had called with a series of construction loan questions and he’d lost his concentration. He’d gritted his teeth, watching Marissa drive off while he was stuck at a red light. Something in him didn’t want her to leave his sight.
Even now, he frowned, gazing out over the rolling waves. It had been too long since he’d lost track of the finish line. His back was to Marissa, but there was no mistaking what lay underneath the dark suit, lack of outer trappings, the no-frills shoes she wore. Since the first time they’d met, his dazed brain was saturated by Marissa. Grappling with her impact, he was unable to pinpoint a specific detail overpowering him. His cock seconded a motion to look closer. Much closer. He didn’t know how, yet he’d bet his beach property that soon they’d be lovers. He’d do whatever it took to move well beyond any form of wishful thinking.
He watched the water swirling around his ankles. He dug his toes into the sand, unable to recall the last time he’d done anything similar. Something in him synchronized being near Marissa and the ocean. A tidal swelling or just a crazy feeling. Either way, she was key.
He glanced back at her and softly swore, “Jesus Christ.”
She was bending at the waist giving him an eyeful of lush curves. At this rate, he might as well dive right into the Atlantic waves to cool off. Pronto.
The woman was too good to be true. From the way she had looked over her glasses to the far-away glaze that had come over her face, she held herself apart as if carried away in deep thought more than a few times. He’d give plenty to learn the secrets she labored over. She didn’t smile much. The rare occasion Miss Silverpointe had graced him with a grin lanced him in a way that reminded him of when he’d been free and unconstrained by a choke-hold of constant construction site problems.
Marissa Silverpointe. He almost laughed out loud at how she had glossed over his dinner invitation. She’d be a pleasure to watch operate. Bet her dainty feathers rarely got ruffled. Bet she was counting the minutes and thinking, wading at the shore was a glorious waste of time.
The professional in him got that part of her—the tough exterior was a veneer.
The man in him wanted to unveil her until she was spread wide open to him. Good God. The million things he’d do, if he got the chance with her.
“C’mon,” he’d shouted. “The water’s marvelous.”
She shook her pretty head unimpressed.
Man. She was a real ballbuster. He couldn’t blame her. He wasn’t much for spending the day on a towel without diving into the sea, but no one could argue with the potential of this site. Great place to watch the waves; scads of sunbathers lined the beach.
He looked up and down the shoreline.
Hell’s bells. He hadn’t realized he was smack in the middle of a bunch of topless sunbathing women. No wonder Marissa kept her distance.
He swung around and took what seemed like a hit to his gut. The sunlight poured over Marissa, shimmered off her skin creating a halo around her body or some reflective effect. Probably something she lathered over her naked self after a shower. She positively glowed.
He imagined her unclothed body, and his cock hardened. Even standing there with her arms wrapped around her middle, she was a provocative sight. Skirt hiked up on her hips revealing a good bit of thigh and her blond hair having come undone. At this rate, he’d be sporting a full-blown hard-on.
Quit acting like you’re fifteen around her. He stopped staring at Marissa and pictured how a sleek, glass and metal condominium would appear beyond his realtor. Crap, if she was in the photo layout, the selling point would be a no-brainer. The weight of her bag sprang to mind. He was carrying her purse. Some sight he must be to Marissa.
Behind those sunglasses, he couldn’t get a feel for the direction of her thoughts, never mind any potential interest she may or may not have in him on a personal note. She had agreed to a business dinner; perhaps he could start with something more relevant. Say, lunch.
He trudged back from the water’s edge. Marissa’s back was turned when he reached her.
“You hungry?” he asked, inhaling her scent.
“Am I ever?” She stopped snapping photographs with a sleek digital camera, and reached for her bag.
“I hope you can’t hear my stomach rumble. Don’t think poorly of me but I’m starved. There are several restaurants opposite the boardwalk. Do you want to phone Sinclair?”
A few wild curls played havoc at her temples. She swiped at them, brushing them behind her ear. Damn, he’d be willing to forget lunch and find the nearest hotel if she agreed. It had been a long time since he’
d been this tempted. Marissa twisted her hair and repinned the sheet of blond silk back into the realm of neat-prim-and-off-limits. He watched her, tantalized but held to merely drinking in her sight.
“I’m hungry as well. Tell me, do you ever do more than act the realtor?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is this all you do down on South Beach? What about seeing the sights from a more laid-back position.” The idea was more about seeing her tonight. What he’d do if she’d unwind her hair for him. Better to get the ball rolling and he hastily pulled out his phone. “Where do you want to eat?”
“Sinclair gets plenty of invitations for openings of clubs and restaurants. The one over there is unbelievable. I don’t think we need reservations,” she shared. “Don’t you need to get back?”
He cocked his head, amused by her suggestion. “To what? Darling, this spot seems beyond temptation.”
“Mr. Herndon, please remember I’m not your darling. But to answer your question, your family. I thought you might want to do some sightseeing. Call them and check in.”
“When you call me Mr. Herndon, I feel as old as Methusehla. If you want me to respond, call me Wyatt. And sorry to disappoint. I’m not married. No children either. So you see, it’s just me. Alone. Correction. You and me.”
“But the woman back at Apex? I assumed, you and her…”
Marissa wasn’t the norm in his world. He savored watching her face turn a bright shade of pink. A woman who was perturbed because he was unattached. He combed a hand through his hair. This was a first.
“Business associate. Hannah McGuire. She’s here with her husband. She handles my financial affairs and asset management. I’m here free and clear.”
The news that he was unencumbered plainly annoyed his precious realtor from the set of her jaw. She actually cared. He almost laughed out loud.
“I expect her input on this deal, given I’m using cash to close. What she does in her spare time is up to her. She’s on-call 24/7 as is any person I employ. Considering the economy, I can’t afford any mistakes. The injected equity will enable a lower interest for the construction loan. We have a narrow window to find, buy, and build. I came here with one intention. I expect to have your full attention, or is that a problem?”
He observed Marissa pull on her jacket. She couldn’t be chilly, not in this heat.
“There’s no problem on my end,” she muttered. “I fully know that you’re up against difficult odds. We’re all working toward closing. I sent your team everything including the loan proposals. I know Sinclair keeps tight reins on the financial aspect of your deal. Really, why did you wait until the last minute? Beyond giving other developers a heads-up. Did you think Apex would leak the information? I’m not one for loose lips.”
Marissa’s strides increased, making her skirt hike further up her thighs. She had fantastic legs and he kept up with her pace. He imagined those legs wrapped around his waist. A damn lovely and entertaining mental hiatus. His cock swelled at the fantasy of Marissa on the beach, at night, with the moon and the waves. And him pounding away furiously between her legs.
His voice went hoarse, and he tunneled his fingers through his hair to get a grip. “Things tend to get complicated when my company is involved. All of a sudden property prices are driven up, and then a bidding war ensues. Not this time. Hannah is similar to a business veneer. So, I’ll have the plans delivered to the restaurant. They can be emailed to a nearby printer and couriered over.”
She side-glanced him, before walking up the steps to the boardwalk. Coming down the other side, she stopped in front of him. “I don’t think we operate that fast in this part of the world. Better to shoot for having them delivered to the office or your hotel. I’m not thinking you’ll see them by the end of lunch.”
“Which restaurant are we going to? We’ll see.”
“That one with the black shutters. The Tap Room. If you like unusual sandwiches and salads.” She kept her voice even though two bright spots flagged her cheeks. Telltale signs she was less than pleased.
He phoned his office and provided them the name and address of the restaurant. He employed smart-enough people, proficient in tech skills to do a search on printers in the area and figure out the logistics. He wasn’t above texting a message to put a “rush” on the job and finishing with “OR ELSE.”
“Here.” She held out his shoes. His fingers came into contact with her hand, the color rose higher on her cheeks, and she dropped his shoes.
“Sorry, I thought you had them.” Marissa bent down. Their knees collided, and she wobbled.
“Dammit,” he swore softly, and then without thinking, reached for her. A good thing. She rebounded off his legs, heading down onto the concrete. He wrapped his hands around her upper arms and pulled her toward him. Her soft upper body heaved against his torso, her mouth close enough to make him forget himself.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. Her glasses had come off, leaving him staring into a pair of eyes the color of the Caribbean. Light aqua, bright, and rimmed in a dark blue. Iridescent eyes, he caught himself thinking.
“Are you ready to rise? I’ll help you.” he asked, only inches from her face. She glanced down, bowing her head. He inhaled the delicate scent of flowers.
“I think so.” She glanced back up at him.
“Ready to stand? On the count of three. One, two, and upsy-daisy.”
She started to laugh. “I’m so sorry. Please forgive me. I haven’t heard that phrase in years.” Marissa relaxed under his grasp, dropping her hands onto his forearms. She squeezed her fingers around his arms. God, it was all he could do to keep from kissing her.
“I’ve got a couple of young nieces. I guess it’s what their parents say when they fall and get up.”
She inhaled. “Wyatt, I’m OK now. Really.”
“Then, shall we try again?”
Chapter Five
From anger to laughter, a kaleidoscope of emotional hues washed over Marissa. The experience of an hour of talking, walking, and just the stress of being on stage for a client was enough to warrant plopping down at a café table exhausted. With so much work to do, this business lunch must not transmute. Even with Wyatt’s fingertips pressing the small of her back, the tingling sensation running up and down her spine, she gritted her teeth, repeating her self-imposed directive. Business. Lunch. Got it.
“Eating in or out?” the hostess asked.
Wyatt brought his hands up, and he motioned to her in deference. The absence of his touch on her body made thinking a whole bunch easier.
Her insides somersaulted. “Outside and please may we have two tall glasses of water?”
“Right away,” the hostess retorted, snapping her fingers and barking. “Two waters.”
She sat hiding behind her menu until Wyatt peered over the edge.
He whispered, “Boo.” A glimmer from his light blue irises sent a shiver over her skin.
She’d already decided and asked him, “What are you having? Do you have a question?”
“Come here often? Do you know what you’re getting? Already?”
“Yes and no. I know what I like so ordering is easy. I don’t come down here during the day.”
“And what are you getting? Or is that a secret.”
“Grilled shrimp.” She answered quickly. She didn’t eat much that didn’t come from the sea. Never had much of an appetite.
“No side. Just shrimp. I don’t even see a menu item of grilled shrimp.”
“Well, they do serve a combination plate of grilled seafood. I’m ordering the shrimp. What looks good to you? Do you eat seafood?”
“Hmmm, not really. I enjoy fishing just not the fishy taste. Not a fan. Had a case of food poisoning in college after eating fish. Anyway, I lost my predilection for seafood. Short story version. Sorry.”
She picked up her glass of water and took a long sip. The parched feeling became less intense, even though the sensation of fire breathing down her neck continued u
nder Wyatt’s gaze. He seemed to study the points of her face, making her squirm and fidget.
Before meeting Wyatt, she enjoyed her nickname: the Ice Princess. Now, she was nothing short of one of the Three Stooges around him.
That icy pseudonym was well past thawed, almost to the point of boiling. She was ready to vaporize right in front of this man’s face. Something in him made something in her become acutely hot and bothered. She was convinced that this something would not end well. For her.
“I think I’ll have the sausage and penne. Comes with a side salad. Are you sure you don’t want something else. Water and shellfish. How will you last until tonight?”
“I’ll manage. Eating light keeps me from getting afternoon brain fog.”
“Oh, yes, the midday sugar blues. Rush for caffeine and sugar. I’m right there with you. Every day around three or four, I’m down at the coffee spot in line. No lie.”
She nodded. “That’s the one food item I require. Massive doses of coffee. I bet if my blood were drawn, it’d be a deep roast blend.”
He laughed, mischief twinkling in his eyes. He ordered their food, specifying an extra-large portion of grilled shrimp for her. All she could do was shake her head at Wyatt’s effort to keep her well-fed.
“How did you come to know Sinclair?”
“Over cards and drinking. Back in college, we belonged to a gentlemen’s club, the alternative to a fraternity or sports.”
“He never said exactly, only that you guys went way back. I imagined some sort of college experience.”
“An experience it was. We almost got thrown out for a two-week binge during exams. I was trying to stabilize my finances, since I wasn’t thrilled about working a summer job. Sinclair had other demons to battle.”
“Did you work during the summer?”
“Partly. Construction. Then I traveled. Probably acquired the bug to travel. It’s what I do. This development gig is just the excuse.”
Ocean of Love Page 4