by Rosanna Leo
She could have gazed at his abnormal beauty all day. No, think. Answer the question.
Her head was reeling with bizarre possibilities. “I don’t know. Maybe you went for a swim.” Damn, her voice was cracking.
“Would a mortal man go for a leisurely swim in frigid water? Guess again, Beth.”
“Maybe you’re a member of the Polar Bear Club. I d-didn’t stop to consider how you got there. I was too busy drowning.”
“What did you see in the water?”
She thought back to the dreadful scene. Flailing in deep water so cold her bones still felt brittle. There was a large, black seal swimming toward her in her memory. “I saw a seal. They’re common enough in this part of the world.”
“And then what?” His eyes burned into hers.
She gasped. “You. Out of nowhere.” She gulped. “You had no clothes on.” Just like the unclear images of a dark-haired man that had teased her semiconscious state for the past while.
“I didn’t need any clothes,” Mack replied. “I had just stripped out of my pelt.”
A memory of Frank hurtled through her consciousness. When she’d first arrived in Orkney, he’d taken her for a walk by the sea. “If you ever grow bored of me, Beth,” he’d joked, “just cry seven tears into the sea. A selkie man will hear your cry and will whisk you away to astonish you with his sexual prowess. Just make sure you hide his pelt once he takes it off. If he has his pelt, he’ll be tempted to leave you for the sea.” Frank had laughed and kissed her as he’d teased her with his Orcadian stories of mythological creatures.
She’d woken up in the hospital covered in a seal pelt, the same one that was now on her bed. With everything going on, she hadn’t questioned the presence of the skin. Until now.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s say for argument’s sake you’re a selkie. Prove it.”
For the first time since meeting Mack, he allowed a devastatingly flirty side of him to show. His hot gaze drifted over her face, warming her, and then settled right at the line of her nipples. The nipples that were now embarrassing her by insisting on sticking out like pebbles under her shirt. She crossed her arms over her chest. His gaze made the slow, sensual journey back up to her eyes. “Very well, lass. Shall I take you right here in the café, or should we stumble back to your house and your bed? I’m fine either way.”
“Mack!”
“You know, you’ve been in possession of my pelt for a little while, Beth. In keeping with the selkie lore, you should really be cashing in on the benefits of having a selkie lover. No one would blame you. Least of all me.”
His deep voice teased her, made her want to smile and flirt back. She wondered if a jackrabbit had jumped down her throat when she wasn’t looking, because something in her chest was pounding in a dreadful manner. “I’m not cashing in on any selkie benefits.”
“Well, it’s the most concrete way of proving I’m not a normal man. Once you’ve had a selkie, there’s no going back. We’re renowned for our … attention to detail in the bedroom. Legendary because of our stamina.” He smiled, dazzling her with his silky threats as much as with his straight, white teeth. “I could go for hours, love.”
Hours. She gulped. God bless Frank; he’d always done his best but had usually fallen asleep after the requisite one orgasm. Hours … that meant more than one orgasm, right?
“There must be a less … carnal method of proving you’re a selkie.” Despite her protestations, she couldn’t wipe clean her mental image of Mack knocking the plates of cake off the table, throwing her down, and screwing her senseless. Or covering her in crème brûlée and licking it off. What would it feel like, to be loved by someone like him? Never mind. You don’t need to know. “Can’t you turn into a seal again for me?”
“I need my pelt for that. That’s one advantage a finman has over a selkie. Finmen don’t need a pelt. They can shift shapes at will.” He dug his fingers into his hair and held the hair back from his face for a moment, letting his cheeks puff out. He exhaled a long, slow breath through pouty lips. He released the hold on his hair, and it fell about his face in soft, touchable waves. “If you’d like, I can shift for you when we go back to your place.”
Frank’s story thudded back into her brain. “But if I let you have your pelt, you’ll swim away.”
“If you recall, lass,” Mack whispered, sending waves of eroticism thrilling through her body, “I let you borrow my pelt. And as for me swimming away, well, I’ll swim when I’m good and ready. I’m asking you to trust that I won’t right now.”
Beth stared at him. Trust. He made it sound so easy.
* * * *
Once they were back at Beth’s house, Mack felt his nerves bubble up inside him. He parked the Mustang, turned off the ignition, and sat still for a moment.
She wanted him to prove what he was. He’d never done it for any woman. Of course, his selkie nature had always been a guarded secret. He hadn’t even shared his identity with Anne. The women who’d seized his pelt over the years had known but had been so grateful for a selkie lover they’d kept his secret. Now Beth wanted the truth, and he was shocked to realize that he couldn’t refuse her.
Still in the car with him, she angled her head toward him, a challenge in her eyes. “You don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”
He turned to her, feeling his lips tighten. “If it’s the only way you’ll believe, then I’ll do it. I’m just not in the habit of doing such a blatant reveal. I feel as if I’m on one of those blasted DIY telly shows.” He waved his hand around like a TV presenter. “‘Take a look at your new loo, Mrs. Pedersen! Oh, and by the way, have we got a selkie for you!’”
Beth sucked her bottom lip into her mouth at his theatrics. The lass thought this was funny. Wait until his big seal self greeted her. She wouldn’t find it so funny then.
Fuck, why was he worrying anyway? He hadn’t worried about it on the beach. He’d seen her struggling and hadn’t thought twice then. Besides, she’d already glimpsed what he was and was in denial. She just needed reminding.
He jumped out of the car and moved around to her side to open her door before she could do it herself. Her eyebrows arched in surprise, and she let him help her out of the car. Within moments, they had reentered her house, retrieved the pelt, and were walking to the back of the home. Her backyard had an excellent view of the sea, as it bordered a quiet stretch of beach. Pelt in hand, Mack led Beth down to the beach and toward the choppy water.
It was time for the grand reveal. Might as well have fun with it.
He surveyed the scene. There was no one else present. He handed the skin to Beth and began to strip.
Beth’s hand flew to her face to cover her eyes. “What are you doing?” she demanded from behind the shelter of her hand. And then she peeked between two fingers.
Mack couldn’t help but grin. “You are a naughty lass. A veritable Peeping Thomasina.” He tore off his shirt, feeling the bracing cold wind pucker his nipples.
She looked away. “I’m not peeping. I’m just surprised you’re changing right here.” Under pretense of glaring at him, she looked back at him. Her gaze plummeted as he kicked off his boots and worked the snap on his jeans. As he lowered the fly, her mouth fell open.
“Well, I can’t parade down the beach as a seal,” he retorted, doing his best to tease her with his Orcadian lilt. “I have to do it here. You can watch. I don’t mind. I’ve always been a bit of an exhibitionist.”
Bless her poor, dear heart, she turned away and looked into the distance while he finished undressing. He threw off his jeans and stood still, watching her tremble.
This might actually be amusing. It was already far too enjoyable for his own good. Damn his rock-hard erection. Hell, it had been hard since he’d watched her play with herself in the night, since before then. And it needed release in a serious way. Selkies were sexual creatures. They craved sex, desired close physical contact. It was taking everything in Mack’s power not to demonstrate his intense n
eed for Beth, so he supposed he could be forgiven for playing a bit with her now.
“Beth, love,” he murmured in his most honeyed tones. “Would you be a sweetheart and hand me my pelt? You don’t want me to catch cold, do you?”
*
In slow motion, Beth turned around to face Mack. Naked Mack. Buff, naked Mack.
What was she fretting about? She’d seen naked men before. Hell, she’d even seen this naked man before, although she hadn’t quite been in a state to notice him last time. He might like to pretend that he was some sort of sexual divinity, but as far as she could tell, Machar Kirk was just a man with strange ideas. With strange hands, who had a strange hold over her. She’d prove him wrong. And if she had to do so while he was in his birthday suit, so be it.
She finished her turn, raised her head, and held the pelt out toward him.
And almost fell down.
Wearing clothes from stem to stern, Mack had already managed to arouse her to a shocking degree. Seeing him nude, her engines revved, sparked, and burst into flame.
As he reached for the pelt, once again, a lot slower than she would have liked, she had the opportunity to drink him in. She had no choice. With a body like his, one could only drink him down, swallow him whole, and savor him. He had the beauty of something inhuman. His black hair blew around his face as if some old god were blowing softly on his masculine face. His dark eyes followed her every movement, hooded and sultry. The lines traveling along his shoulders, neck, and torso gave the impression of power and strength. With every flex, muscle moved in his body. His entire frame seemed sheathed in hard, serpentine brawn. His legs were long and lean like those of an athlete. She found herself longing to dance her fingers up those hard planes. Her gaze fell upon his pelvic area, and Beth blinked furiously, sure she was seeing things. He was hard there too, hard and thick. His cock swelled before her eyes, seeming to possess the power of a drill. Somehow she knew Mack was capable of using that tremendous instrument. With the force of his sculpted body behind it, that cock could do wonderful, terrible things to her.
He stared at her far too long for her comfort, his face serious. And then without a word and without preamble, Mack wrapped his body in the large skin and stepped toward the water’s edge. Within nanoseconds, Beth witnessed a sight she would never forget. As if the image of a nude Mack wasn’t already branded in her memory.
As soon as his webbed feet hit the water, the pelt surrounding him seemed to merge with his body. It all happened so fast, and Beth struggled to keep up with the lightning-swift changes. The pelt seemed to spread, covering him, as his limbs shifted and shortened. And as he stared at her, his face morphed, becoming more animal, more hairy. His black eyes grew wide and limpid, and whiskers sprouted where there were none before. He became an enormous seal, the same one who’d propelled her through the depths to safety.
Mack paused in this guise for a few moments, allowing her to really see him so she wouldn’t refute it later. After that interval, he moved and the pelt seemed to shift and shiver once more. Beth watched as the skin seemed to collapse in on itself as if being lifted off his body, and Mack emerged as a man again. He strode over to her, still fascinatingly nude, the skin tossed over his arm. He came to within inches of her and gazed into her eyes.
“Is that proof enough?”
Beth couldn’t speak. She just nodded. Words escaped her. She knew what she’d seen was a miracle, something few were privileged enough to see, and couldn’t help feeling honored and mystified and humbled at the same time.
And aroused. There was a pain deep in her womb, one she felt would only be alleviated by spreading her legs and welcoming Mack there. The heat spiraling through her center was almost too much to bear, like being on a Florida beach in mid-August at high noon. At the same time, she wanted to lie there, soak in the extreme heat he created, and let it incinerate her.
He just stood there, staring her down and making her want to swoon in his arms. When she finally recovered the use of her tongue, she blurted out, “Your clothes. Please!”
Mack didn’t move for a second. But he offered her a slow, sexy grin.
Her body responded by shooting a thousand pinpricks of desire straight into her sex. Her panties had been damp since the coffee shop. They were drenched now. She was pretty sure her arousal was creeping down her right leg.
Damn. She’d never felt like this. Not even with Frank. Mack tempted her. He made her want to be very bad, but she wasn’t sure she knew how to anymore.
He blinked. His grin disappeared, and he bent over and grabbed his clothes and proceeded to dress. Beth turned away so she didn’t have to see his perfect ass up in the air. As he pulled up his jeans, she snuck another peek, hating that she was so weak. She caught a glimpse of large, silky balls and his incredible cock as he zipped up.
Mother of God. Her mouth watered and her breasts felt fuller than when she’d been lactating. She shook her head, mystified at the symptoms of her newfound nymphomania. Relax. It’s just been a long time.
On the short walk back to her house, Beth didn’t say a word despite all the epithets of wonder shooting through her brain. He was a real selkie. Mack was abnormal and some would say monstrous. But she’d never seen anything more awe inspiring than his shift to animal and back to man. There was a strange beauty there on the beach surrounding his shift. An aura of mysticism and primeval magic. He was different. Processing exactly how different was proving to be a daunting task.
He reached out and tweaked her upper arm to get her attention. He offered her a lopsided smile that made her heart leap. “Aside from my ability to change shape, I’m not that different from you.”
She stopped in her tracks. “You read my mind.”
Mack stopped in front of her and gazed at her, black eyes boring into blue. “Selkie intuition is keen. It’s not so much that I read minds, but I can read emotions better than a human can.”
Beth stood still, letting the breeze whip through her hair. “What else can you do that I can’t?”
“Well, selkie folk are stronger than humans, with a higher tolerance for pain. We live a very long time. We can eat and drink you under the table. Of course, we can out-swim Michael Phelps on his best of days.”
She didn’t giggle at his joke. It was all so much to take in, and yet it all seemed to make perfect sense at the same time.
Mack reached for her hand and stroked it. He drew closer. “And a selkie man could love you as you’ve never been loved before.”
As much as Beth was dying for a demonstration of this last talent, she banished the thought from her mind, hoping Mack wouldn’t somehow discern her nasty yen for him.
He was pure desire, hot and heavy and persistent. But she couldn’t… Not with him, not with anyone.
She pulled her hand out of his and ignored the stricken lines in his brow. “Yeah, well, love’s overrated. It just leads to heartache.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “If I were you, I’d ask for a new power like flying or … the ability to resurrect the dead.”
Whoa, where did that come from? And why was she on the verge of crying?
Mack stared at her, his features softening in sympathy. “Beth, love,” he murmured in his Orcadian accent, his deep voice almost a lullaby. “If I could trade any of my talents for that one, I would.”
Before her broken heart betrayed her further, Beth turned and closed the distance between them and the house. And before he could follow her in, she closed the door and locked it, needing distance from the selkie man, needing time alone with her frazzled thoughts. She leaned on the door, gulping air, forcing it into her constricted lungs.
There was a soft rap on the door. “Beth? Let me in. Let’s talk.”
She turned her forehead to the wooden door, desperate for his touch and not sure why. “Please go away.”
He didn’t knock again. After a few moments, she heard his footfall on the stone walkway leading to the driveway. She heard a car door open and slam shut, but no motor sta
rted. Intrigued, Beth moved to the window and twitched the curtain.
Mack was leaning in the car trunk. He rummaged for a few seconds and then produced an enormous bow and what seemed to be a leather case full of shiny arrows. Beth felt her jaw go slack at the sight of the very dangerous-looking weapons. His stride calm and assured, Mack walked toward the back of the house and she followed inside, running to one of the windows that overlooked the beach. He took up a spot in the backyard, facing the water, and pulled one of the arrows from his pack.
He showed no signs of leaving, just watched the water in silence.
Beth tried to ignore her protector as he stood watch in her backyard. She did some dusting, cleaned the bathrooms, and defrosted her refrigerator. As much as she attempted to distract herself, she kept darting looks out the window.
Mack never moved and never released his hold on the arrow.
She figured he would get bored and leave eventually. He didn’t. After a couple of hours, she went outside with coffee in a thermos and a roast beef sandwich. She didn’t say a word, but her insides wobbled and wove. Mack stared at her, his face inscrutable, his jaw clenched. He took the food, thanked her, and turned back to the pounding surf.
At bedtime, she got dressed in an old nightie, washed up, and pulled aside the covers of her bed. She didn’t look out the window again, telling herself Mack had gone home. And if he hadn’t, well, if a crazy man wanted to stand in her yard and stare at the sea, it was no business of hers.
When Beth awoke in the morning after a fitful sleep, barely rested at all because it was so punctuated by dreams of Mack, the first thing she did was go to the back window and peek.
He was still there, armed like a soldier of old, staring at the waves.
* * * *
Mack sensed her coming, even before he heard the creak of the back door. He turned to see her. The morning sunlight lit up her face. She looked like a tired angel with her gleaming, fair hair and dark circles under her eyes. Her body, clad in loose jeans and a shirt that had seen better days, called to him and made him want to cradle her in his arms. Despite the slump of her shoulders, her head was inclined toward him, making her appear curious.