Tears of the Sea

by Marylu Tyndall

  “How could I do otherwise in the face of such misery?”

  His smile of approval warmed her to her toes.

  “I still have no idea where all that food came from.” She suspected he had some powers he hid from others, or mayhap even some he was completely unaware of himself.

  “Abbas provides.”

  Flashes of starving people inhabiting every port she’d ever visited filtered through her mind. “Not always.”

  “Let’s go back, Perdita. I’ve work to do.”

  She gave a ladylike snort. “You came to get me because you saw some kindness in me yesterday? I’ll save you the trouble. I am not kind. Please leave me be. I wish to stay.”

  “But you’ll die out here alone.”

  “If only that were true.”

  His brows tightened. “Why would you say such a thing?”

  “You wouldn’t understand.” She studied him. “I haven’t much hope, I’m afraid.”

  “There’s always hope. Look around you”—he waved a hand over the stunning scenery and the jungle teaming with life—“the beauty of Abbas’s creation, the life bursting from within it, the rising and setting of the sun—all this should give you hope. You are young, you have breath in your lungs, you are free.”

  Young? Free? Breath? The first two she’d not been since the curse. The third she rarely had. But she couldn’t tell him that.

  Nor, from the look in his eyes, would he go back to camp without her.

  She inched closer to the edge of the cliff. “Leave me here or I swear I’ll jump!” ’Twas the only thing she could think to do.

  Anger and confusion raged on his face. He grabbed her arm and yanked her toward him. “Are you mad, woman?”

  “Possibly. But I still mean what I say.”

  She pushed from him, her feet precariously close to the edge. Wind whipped her skirt. Pebbles flew off the edge and click-clacked as they tumbled below. She didn’t relish the thought of the pain she’d endure if she fell, but she couldn’t tolerate another day loving a man who would never love her in return.

  “Stop behaving like a crazy woman, and come with me this minute!” He pulled her again, his eyes wide as they glanced over the edge. “You’re going to get us both killed.”

  She fought him, tugging against his grip. “Leave me be!” She took a step back. Rock cracked, pebbles fell, her foot landed on air. She lost her balance and started tumbling over the edge.

  ♥♥♥

  A flash of green cloth and dark hair skirted the bottom of Savion’s vision. He reached blindly to grab ahold, all the while his heart exploded in his chest. Fingers met fabric. It tore. He lunged after her, groping for her arm, her leg, anything! She screamed.

  His feet left the ground. Wind blasted his face. His hand clutched warm flesh. Thud! Crunch! The woman fell to the dirt. He spun and rolled over her soft flesh. His feet left him again and swung over empty space.

  Perdita shrieked.

  Savion was falling. Wind roared in his ears. His clothes flapped like wings.

  So, this is how he would die. This was his punishment for failing his mission.

  He landed on something soft, like sailcloth filled with wind. It cushioned him and slowly began to rise. Glancing to his right and left, he saw the Guardians, faint outlines of light defining their positions. They neither looked at him nor smiled, just carried him up … up to where Perdita’s frightened face gaped at him over the lip of a rocky ledge.

  He reached for her, grabbed her hand, and hoisted himself up until he sat beside her. She said nothing as he caught his breath. And his thoughts. Had she seen the Guardians? They rarely appeared in front of anyone but Savion. In truth, he hadn’t been sure they would come for him this time.

  Finally he faced her, searching her for wounds, and upon finding none, felt his anger return. “By the stars of Lemox, what were you thinking?”

  Still she gaped at him, a mixture of confusion and astonishment on her face. “You went over the edge … I saw you … over the edge ….” she stuttered.

  She sat stunned for several minutes before she rose, brushed off her skirts, and started to walk away. Savion dashed after her and spun her around. “What ails you, woman? Why do you wish to die?”

  “Why do you wish not to?” she snapped. “And what were those … those lights … those beings who saved you?”

  Savion rubbed the back of his neck. So, she had seen them. “Let’s head back. My crew will be worried.”

  Patches of sun streaming through the trees dappled her in light, but she held her place. “What are they, Savion? I’ve seen them before near you.”

  “Tell you what. You tell me why you wish to die, and I’ll tell you what they are.” Uneasiness mounted within him as he stared at the fickle madcap woman. He truly did believe her when she’d said she wanted to die. He’d come to know her well enough these past days to tell when she lied, when she flirted, when she was afraid, and when she was serious.

  “I wouldn’t have jumped, if that is what you mean. ’Twas your fault you fell trying to drag me away!”

  “If you hadn’t been resisting me!” He fisted his hands, frustration rising.

  Her skirts were torn, and one shapely leg appeared. He looked away.

  “I’m sorry, Savion.”

  The sincerity of her tone brought his gaze back to her. “For what?”

  “For risking your life.” Perspiration beaded on her forehead, reminding him of the pearls Verrad claimed her tears became. “You tried to save me. Why?”

  Because for some unfathomable reason, I love you. “It’s what I do.”

  “So, I’m just another one of your missions, another righteous deed you can engrave on a badge and pin to your chest.” She took a step back and glanced over her shoulder.

  Hopelessness numbed her sea-green eyes. He must discover what wound she bore on her heart that made her so desperate for death. He’d spent so much time saving people from physical harm, he knew nothing about healing broken hearts.

  He moved toward her, intending to ask her why she had no hope, when the vixen spun and disappeared into the green web.

  ♥♥♥

  Batting aside branches and leaves, Perdita ran as fast as she could, despite the pain in her feet and the perspiration streaming down her back. She ran because the affection and concern in Savion’s eyes caused hope to rise. She ran because she needed to run—away from everything—her fears, her dreams, the curse, her life. But if she were honest, she ran because she longed for Savion to follow her. If he did—if he came after her yet again—then surely it meant he loved her. No man was that good or that noble to endure all the trouble she had caused him. Nay, most would have abandoned her long ago.

  She tripped on a root and stumbled. A vine reached out to strangle her. She shoved it aside. Insects buzzed past her ears. A frog croaked, and a growl sounded in the distance. She rushed forward.

  Mayhap she did have a chance with Savion. If only she could seduce him, then she could show him how much she loved him—unite with him in that physical union that drove men to distraction and made them grovel at her feet. Then he would be hers.

  Clutching her skirts with one hand, she batted leaves aside with the other as memories of all the men who had abandoned her after she’d bedded them began to pummel her hope. But Savion was different. His honor would not allow him to leave her after they’d become one.

  Though she would have to leave him in ten days.

  Still, ’twas better to be in his arms, to enjoy his love, then to spend the rest of her time on land all alone. At least when she slipped back into the sea for another decade, the memory of finally being loved would see her through the long, lonely years.

  Halting, her breath heaving, she studied the trees surrounding her, looking for familiar landmarks. The sound of rushing water rode upon the jungle chorus. Yes, she knew exactly how she would finally win Savion’s love.

  ♥♥♥

  Exasperating woman! Savion charged after Pe
rdita, but she had slipped away too fast. A broken twig, a torn leaf, and scattered footprints led him onward. Several minutes later, his breath came heavy and sweat coated his skin.

  Above him, the canopy chirped and buzzed as myriad birds flitted from branch to branch and insects the size of guavas hummed a soothing cadence. Somewhere in the middle of the exotic symphony came the harmony of gurgling water. Savion headed toward it.

  The gurgle turned into a trickle, which turned into a gush and finally a roar as Savion shoved aside final branches and emerged into a small clearing. A waterfall tumbled over a rock cliff, sparkling and bubbling into a turquoise pool surrounded by white sand and lush greenery. Ivy speckled in purple and pink flowers draped over the cliff and festooned the low branches of trees, making the scene look surreal in its beauty.

  After lifting his baldric over his head and removing his pouch and sword, He peeled off his shirt, kicked off his boots, and dove head first into the glistening pool. Cool water swept over him, washing off the sweat, heat, and grime of the jungle. Nothing had ever felt so good. He swam to the deepest part of the pool, touched the silt, then shot off the bottom straight to the surface. Sunlight warmed his face, and he gulped in a lungful of air before opening his eyes.

  A boulder rose from the water not four feet from where he’d surfaced. He started toward it but movement halted him. Someone sat upon it. A woman. Silken strands of ebony hair waved across her back. With a start, she spun to face him.

  It was Perdita. And she was completely naked.

  Chapter 20

  Perdita! Shock kept Savion staring at her, his eyes unwillingly roving to places they shouldn’t, curves that caused heat to storm through him. She flung her arms up to cover herself. He spun around in the water, a thousand emotions and sensations raging within him.

  “What are you doing here?” he demanded.

  “I should ask you the same thing,” she gasped out, indignant.

  “Where are your clothes?”

  “Same place I imagine yours are.”

  He scanned the beach in the distance, spotted his own discarded attire, and then found her skirts and underthings hanging on a tree limb to the side. Why had he not seen them?

  “I insist you get dressed at once,” he commanded.

  “Very well.” Her tone no longer bore fear or shock. He heard her splash into the water and swim his way and pictured her beautiful body inches beside him.

  “Wait! I’ll go first and turn my back, then follow me.” He dove beneath the surface, wishing he could stay there where life was peaceful and there were no naked women to behold, all the while chastising himself for gazing at her so boldly. He dragged himself onto the sand and faced the jungle, listening to her splashes growing closer and trying desperately to focus on the chorus of birds, the hum of insects, the vines and leaves swaying in the wind—anything but the vision of water gliding over those curves.

  When she bade him turn around, it was to her wearing only her chemise.

  He averted his eyes. “I told you to get dressed.”

  “My clothes are wet. I dove in with them on when I first came upon this place. Surely I am covered enough.” She gave him a coy look, then lowered to a rock and drew her dripping hair over her shoulder—slick strands of rich cocoa that made Savion lick his lips.

  “If you were wrapped in sailcloth, I doubt you’d be covered enough.” He cringed at words he shouldn’t have spoken out loud.

  Her smile proved him right.

  Anger flamed. “Why are you out here swimming unclad for all to see?”

  “Why did you burst unannounced into a lady’s bathing pool?”

  “Lady’s bathing …” He growled. “I came looking for you. What did you think I would do?”

  “I thought mayhap you would have reached your limit of the trouble I cause you.” Water glistened on the skin of her neck and arms and pooled in her thick black lashes like diamonds. Savion grew warm again. He did not want to desire her. Any man could desire her. He wanted to help her.

  “Besides,” she added, “I am quite all right, as you can see.”

  More than all right, from his way of seeing things. He cleared his throat. “As I informed you, you cannot stay out here alone.”

  “I can do what I wish.”

  “You’ll die of starvation or animal attack before another ship sails into the bay.” He huffed. “That is, unless you are a mermaid and can swim away.” He chuckled.

  ♥♥♥

  Perdita could sit in this spot for a thousand days and gaze upon this man before her. Standing there, the muscles of his chest rippling in the sunlight like the waves upon the pond, the lion tattoo on his bicep, his hands fisted firmly upon his hips, his breeches molded to his muscular thighs, wet hair slicked back, and those golden eyes—sparking with anger, yes, but also passion, care, hope—all jumbled up in an intense vision that drew Perdita in until she wished nothing more than to become a part of him.

  Then why had she felt a surge of modesty when he saw her, a need to cover herself in his presence, even though the desire in his eyes was evident. Zost! She had missed her chance. She could have dove into the water, pretended to flounder, and he would have been forced to scoop her up in his arms. Wasn’t that her plan? But instead she had felt dirty, unworthy beneath his stare.

  Now, as he obviously fought to keep his eyes off her, she knew she could still have him. And with the prospect of a decade of torture looming before her, she had to try.

  Rising, she slinked his way. “If I were a mermaid, I would have already swum away, don’t you think?”

  He studied her, gauging her movements as if she were a predator circling its prey. Stopping before him, she traced a finger over the lion tattoo on his firm bicep, longing to be held by such strength, to be cocooned by this man’s power and love. She sensed a quiver run through him at her touch and he backed away.

  “We could love each other, Savion—you and I, here in the sand, all alone. No one need know.”

  ♥♥♥

  The woman smelled of gardenias and sunshine, and every cell in Savion’s body longed to take her in his arms and make her his. But it wouldn’t be right. She didn’t need physical love. She needed something far deeper, far more lasting. Besides, he was saving himself for his bride—the pure, kind, honorable bride his father had promised him. Physical union outside of a lifelong commitment brought nothing but pain.

  Perdita was but a test. Yet . . . so much more than that now. She was someone he wanted to help.

  Bending over, he grabbed his shirt and tossed it over his head.

  Disappointment shadowed her features.

  “Why do you give yourself away so freely?” Savion plopped in the sand and drew up his knees.

  At first he wondered if she would just storm away, angry at his rejection. Or worse, slip out of the chemise shielding her curves and make another attempt. But instead, she sighed, sat down beside him, and slid a finger in the sand.

  “Doesn’t King Abbas ask us to love each other? How can such an expression of love be wrong?”

  “As I have said, love has nothing to do with a physical union.”

  “Of course it does! It has everything to do with it. You’re just scared.”

  He raised his brows at her. “Woman, I would love nothing more than to accept your offer. You have no idea.”

  Her green eyes searched his. “Then do.” No flirtation, just a pleading that nearly broke his heart.

  “Physical union is the consummation of love. It is the seal upon a lifelong commitment. To share such a sacred union with someone who is not willing to enter into covenant with you, who will cast you off as soon as they grow weary of you, is to only cause yourself pain and cheapen the act.”

  She sat staring at the sand, a perplexed look on her face. “So, would you cast me off as well? When you grew weary of me?”

  “Is that what men have done to you?” he asked gently.

  She squirmed and dug her feet in the sand, and he got a
feeling she was about to cry but struggled not to. A breeze tossed a strand of her hair across her cheek, and he longed to brush it aside.

  “You can tell me, Perdita. I truly want to hear.”

  “No one has ever wanted to hear my story.” She looked at the pond as a white bird dipped low over the water and caught a slippery fish with its feet.

  “I do.”

  She lifted one side of her chemise and covered her shoulder in an act of modesty that warmed his heart. “Why?”

  Because, despite his best efforts, he cared—he cared for her more than he wanted to admit. “It will comfort you to talk about it, and I’m a good listener.”

  She turned away and swallowed.

  “I was in love once,” she started, barely above a whisper. “Sir Ivan Moorehead, a knight of the kingly order of the Triden.” She smiled sadly. “I was but a peasant girl, the youngest daughter of a shepherd, but Sir Ivan took note of me in the village. He would ride by on his dark steed adorned with golden tassels and clanging bells and look at me as if I were a precious flower, too beautiful to be plucked.” She dug her toes deeper into the sand. “He would leave me gifts in secret places, jewels the likes of which I had never seen, perfumes from Araba, scarves of lace and satin.” She glanced at Savion with such sorrow in her eyes, he felt tears prick his own. “He began to court me. Me?” She laughed. “I could hardly fathom it. Against his parents’ wishes, of course. So we met in secret.

  It was so romantic. Clandestine rendezvous in hidden alcoves of the town’s cathedrals; trysts on mountaintops and forest floors; picnics in fields full of colorful flowers; swims in crystalline lakes much like this pond; riding behind him on his horse, my gown flowing behind me.” She stopped, her gaze a million miles away in another time and place.

  “Imagine me, a simple peasant girl, loved by a prince, a knight, who owned more lands than anyone in the realm. My father, of course, was thrilled at the match. He foretold that one day my beauty would bring fortune to the family. ’Twas the only thing I had to offer, or so he told me.”