Born Ready

by Lori Wilde

  Weigh the facts, evaluate the empirical data, draw rational conclusions from the evidence, don’t allow your mind to be swayed by anything as ethereal as emotions.

  So perhaps that was why she was so startled by the strength of attraction she felt for Scott Everly.

  Let it go. It will pass.

  She took a deep breath, watched the moonlight shimmer over the water.

  The ocean.

  The one thing she truly loved unequivocally. As unfathomable as the ocean was, she understood it far more than she understood human nature.

  Scott, on the other hand, seemed to have a knack for reading people. It was a knack she envied. A knack that made her feel ineffective and socially backward.

  “I love the ocean,” Scott murmured.

  “What’s not to love? It’s mysterious and haunting. Thrilling and calming all at the same time.”

  “Yeah.” His voice husky.

  She could feel the heat of his gaze upon her. She stopped, turned away from him and toward the sea. “I suppose it’s the one thing we have in common.”

  “You don’t know me well enough to say that.” He moved to stand beside her. He was so close all she had to do was reach out and touch him.

  Do not touch him.

  “Do you like scuba diving?” he asked.

  “I took my first dive when I was seven,” she said.

  “I was six.”

  “Show-off.”

  “When your father is Coast Guard, you learn early.”

  “Or when your dad is Jack Birchard.”

  “That’s got to be weird.”

  She shrugged. “To me, it’s normal.”

  “There is nothing normal about you, mermaid.”

  She knew that. A pang of something she could not name squeezed her. “Why do you call me that?”

  “It’s the first thought that popped into my head when I saw you on your boat. Now here’s a mermaid.”

  “What made you think that?”

  He didn’t answer for a while. She could hear the sound of his breathing.

  “When I was a kid I had a crush on the Little Mermaid. Not the Disney version, but the Hans Christian Andersen story. My father read it to me as a bedtime story.”

  Jackie imagined a young Scott curled up in a bed with seascape sheets and models of Coast Guard helicopters and cutters dangling from the ceiling. The strange twist in her stomach tightened. “Guess what my father read me as a bedtime story.”

  “Oceanography text books.”

  “That and his biography.”

  “Jackie,” he whispered, sympathy oozing in his tone.

  She laughed off his compassion. “It’s okay. He is the greatest oceanographer in the world next to Jacques Cousteau. What do you suppose the deal is with the name Jack? Name your kid Jack and he’s bound to go to sea?”

  “Or name your daughter Jackie?”

  “That was just an ego thing for the old man.”

  “Excuse me for saying so, but he sounds like a total prick.”

  Defensively, she shrugged. “He’s not. Not really. He’s just too busy saving the world to bother with human niceties.”

  “And it rubbed off on you.”

  It had. Guilt nibbled at her. She had been pretty rude to Scott from the very beginning and yet, here he was, still trying to break through the barnacles she’d built around herself to stay safe. Part of her appreciated his efforts, but on another level, he totally terrified her.

  “It’s getting late,” he commented.

  “Yes.” She turned and started walking.

  Scott stayed right beside her, step for step.

  They reached her apartment. She stopped at the bottom of the stairs. “This is me. Good night.”

  “I’m walking you all the way to your front door.”

  “There’s no need.”

  “I didn’t ask if there was a need. I said I was walking you home and I’m walking you to your door.”

  She turned away so he couldn’t see her smile and she started up the steps. He came up behind her, his feet echoing heavily on the metal steps. She fished her keys from her pocket at the door.

  He clicked his tongue in that tsk-tsk way he had. “You didn’t leave your porch light on.”

  “I never do.”

  “Why not?”

  “I forget.”

  He shook his head. “I shudder to think of all the other safety measures you skimp on because your head is in the clouds.”

  “Are you calling me an airhead?”

  “Not at all.” Humor tinged his voice. “You’re a bona fide seahead.”

  She laughed. “Well, thank you for walk—”

  Jackie didn’t get the rest of the sentence out. She heard her book fall from his arm. It hit the landing with a loud plop and papers flew up everywhere. She should have been alarmed by that. Should have scrambled to retrieve her data.

  Instead, when Scott wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her up tight to his chest, she sank against him.

  No, no, this is not smart. Not smart at all.

  But she stilled the intelligent voice warning her to stop this nonsense right now. And when his mouth covered hers, she actually sighed, breathing in the taste of him.

  His impish tongue skimmed her lips and damn if she didn’t part her teeth and let him slip right in.

  “Jackie,” he whispered against her mouth.

  The sweet vibration sent a shiver through her. How long had it been since a man had kissed her? Over a year. Maybe much longer.

  He kept kissing her. Lightly. With much care. The gentle brush of angelfish.

  The kiss deepened, sweetened.

  Scott. Scott. His name took front seat in her mind. She’d been schooled to reject anything unscientific, anything that smacked of romance, but in that moment, Jackie felt her beliefs shift and another word settled in beside Scott’s name.

  Magic.

  His arm tightened around her and she pressed her palm against his chest. Felt the pounding of his heart. His pulse bounding quick as hers.

  They searched for, and found, a more intimate fit. Their mouths blooming in urgent commingling. A rush of blood. A thrust of hearts.

  Then Scott broke the kiss, stepped back.

  Disoriented, slightly dizzy, Jackie sank back against the door, realized her legs were scarcely able to bear her weight.

  “I think it’s time I headed home.”

  “Yes.” She cleared her throat. Don’t go. “Yes.”

  He didn’t move.

  Neither did she.

  “I know you’re busy,” he said. “But everyone needs to take a break and, honest to Pete, Jackie, I’m bored out of my skull on vacation. I was wondering…”

  She met his gaze. “Are you asking me out?”

  “Scuba diving. Dry Tortugas. You up for it?”

  She should say no. She was already behind on her work. Usually, she would say no. There was no real reason to say yes. None at all.

  Except she wanted to go.

  She shook her head. “Really, I can’t.”

  He looked sheepish. “No problem. I figured it was worth a shot.” He picked up her book and papers, passsed them to her, then turned to go.

  Jackie unlocked her door. Heard his footsteps on the stairs. “Wait.”

  He stopped, turned back.

  “I do love the Dry Tortugas.”

  The spontaneous grin that took his face hostage, tugged at her. “No kidding.”

  “I’d love to go with you,” she said, knowing it was probably a stupid thing to say.

  “Great.” His gaze held her. “Pick up you tomorrow at dawn.”

  With that, he was gone, taking the steps two at a time, and as he disappeared down the beach, Jackie heard him whistling “Beyond the Sea.”

  6

  When you’re being swept overboard, it’s a good idea to have a Coast Guard at the helm.

  —Jacqueline Birchard, marine biologist

  DURING HER TWENTY-SIX years on e
arth, Jackie had dived countless times, but each time she went under the surface, it was different. And each time she went down into the deep blue, her heart filled with joy. This time, with Scott, there was an entire new element. An aspect she had not expected, nor prepared for.

  For one thing, he was as comfortable on the water as she was. During the two-and-a-half-hour trip to the Dry Tortugas in his speedboat, they hadn’t spoken a word, both of them enjoying the sun and the bounce of the boat on the waves. She felt like a schoolgirl playing hooky, except she’d never played hooky in her life.

  The Dry Tortugas were a group of small islands, composed of sand and coral reef, seventy miles south of Key West. They were known for their thriving marine life and old Fort Jefferson, which was started in the mid-nineteenth century and never completed. The islands were rife with romantic tales of pirates, sunken ships and hidden treasures. There was a natural research area in the Tortugas and it was a place her father visited often.

  When they reached the diving spot, neither of them spoke. They just started working like a team, as if they’d been doing it for years. Jackie dropped anchor, while Scott set their diving tanks upright on the boat.

  With practiced movements, they checked the O-ring channel on their tank valves and then moved on to get their vest straps wet, leaning over starboard at the same moment. Once they’d wetted them, they loosened the straps on their buoyancy control devices, called BCDs for short, slipped them over the air tanks and lowered them until the BCD was fully snug and locked with the tank strap.

  They attached the regulators, then positioned and tightened the yokes over the tank valves. They purged the valves, listening for the sound of air. They checked the gauges and made sure there were no leaks. Precision counted in diving. Skip a step, allow diligence to slip and you could die down there. When they realized they were in perfect synchronicity, their eyes met and they smiled at each other.

  Quickly, feeling oddly embarrassed, Jackie glanced away. If she hadn’t been so excited about diving, she might have run away. Instead, she sat on the edge of the boat and just dropped backward into the ocean, letting the waves envelop her in a welcoming hug.

  Scott followed right behind her.

  In tandem, they swam toward the coral reef.

  Her heart beat faster as she breathed in from her tank. The familiar gurgle of bubbles was music to her ears.

  Yes. Home. She was home.

  Maybe she was something of a mermaid at that. Was it odd to feel more joyous in the water than she ever did on land?

  Underneath the surface there lay a beautiful garden nondivers never saw for themselves. Stony coral formed the basis of the living architecture. The reefs were a unique ecosystem made up primarily of calcium deposited by marine life such as jellies and anemones.

  Jackie’s gaze was immediately drawn to the exquisite coral sculptures and the other creatures that made their homes in the reef. There was always so much going on here. Gorgeous green Zooxanthellae. The spotted Plectorhinchus chaetodonoides, also known as Harlequin sweetlips. The vibrant purple-and-yellow fairy basslets. The aptly named jewelfish, who shimmered with golden sparkles. It took her breath every single time.

  Scott tapped her shoulder, pointed out the moray eel swimming by. She couldn’t see his smile, but behind his protective goggles, his eyes shone as excited as she was.

  This man was different.

  Stop thinking like that. It’s counterproductive.

  Why?

  Um, well because…

  Can’t think of any reason, can you? Just enjoy the ride for once, Jackie.

  And so she did, swimming alongside as they explored the reef, spotting rainbow parrot fish, elegant stingrays, vibrant red sea stars, and schools of glassy sweepers that moved in perfect unison, prettier than clouds.

  Florida was one of the most fascinating places on earth. In Jackie’s mind the only other locale that could rival it for sheer divine pleasure was the Great Barrier Reef.

  She would love to dive the barrier reef with Scott.

  Well, you’re not going to. Seriously. Stop thinking like this.

  Yes, right. She was getting back on track. A Goliath grouper swam by. She hadn’t seen one of them in years. She reached to poke Scott’s ribs to point it out. The contact with his muscled rib cage underneath the spongy, smooth material of his wet suit created a rippling sensation in her belly. She gulped and felt as if she was treading water for her life. Floundering.

  Scott’s face was in front of her. And she calmed. Why? How did he cause both a serene peace and a raging fire inside her? She sucked in air.

  His eyes crinkled and she knew he was grinning.

  Did he feel it, too? Or was she imagining all this?

  She longed to swim away, but knew she couldn’t. Instead, she followed his lead. They darted like spadefish and she felt as sexually charged as a dolphin. Most people didn’t realize precisely how horny those adorable creatures really were.

  You are not a dolphin. Stop thinking dolphin thoughts.

  But right now she wished she was a dolphin. If she was a dolphin, she and Scott would be mating like crazy right now and not caring what it meant.

  Jackie’s face heated.

  Scott turned and his leg brushed against hers, stealing all the breath from her lungs.

  Breathe. Just breathe.

  What if you made love to him? Followed your female instincts? As long as you took precautions, there wouldn’t be anything wrong with it.

  Having sex with him would release a lot of tension. She could calm down, relax, fully concentrate on her work. This outing was great recreation for her mind. Why not allow her body the same pleasure?

  Yes, yes. I like this idea, whispered her impish id. Do it, do it.

  You would, you naughty wench, chided her judgmental superego.

  Turn off the running commentary, Jackie. You’re missing the moment.

  The environment around her was mesmerizing. Incredible. The colors. The movement. From the plethora of clownfish to the fluttering of purple sea fans.

  Scott rolled over on his back, kicked his fins. He looked so sexy. A lump blocked her throat. She wanted him. Wanted to lick her tongue over that hard body. Wanted to feel him buried inside of her. It had been so long since she’d felt this much sexual desire.

  Honestly, had she ever felt this much sexual desire?

  It raged against her pelvis. Need. Longing. Wide as an ocean.

  Why not? Why not?

  She inhaled, pulled oxygen deeply into her lungs, felt as if she were drowning. But how could she drown? She was a mermaid after all. Born and raised in the water.

  Scott pointed at his watch, and then motioned toward the surface. She glanced at her own watch, was startled to see they’d been down almost an hour. How was that possible? It seemed just a few minutes. She nodded.

  He kicked toward the surface.

  Jackie rolled on her back and watched him go, imagined herself settling to the bottom of the ocean, letting it claim her.

  Why did she feel so conflicted? On the one hand, she wanted him with a fierceness that scared her. While at the same, she wanted to swim as far away from him as she could get.

  She’d never been so mixed-up. Determination had controlled her life for as long as she could remember. She knew she was single-minded. Some might say self-absorbed. But it wasn’t her own consciousness that interested her. Rather it was the mysteriousness of the sea.

  You might be under the water, but you’re still in an ivory tower. You might have distracted yourself from the outside world with marine life, but you’re still trapped inside your own head.

  It was true and suddenly, she experienced a bone-deep loneliness pressing down on her. The loneliness had been there for years but she’d learned how to ignore it. How to muscle it aside with her obsession.

  Oh, dammit. What was going on here?

  Scott Everly.

  He was the cause of her disturbance.

  You can’t stay here. H
e won’t let you be. You know he’ll come after you.

  First time. First time ever that a man had pursued her this relentlessly. She’d tried her best to shove him away, but he refused to be pushed.

  She watched him break the surface, knew she had to go. She shook off the languor that possessed her and followed him toward the sun.

  TEN MINUTES LATER, after they’d shed their diving tanks and put away their equipment, Scott straightened, pushed a hand through his hair and gifted her with a heart-stopping smile.

  Fierce.

  She wanted him something fierce. The kiss he’d given her last night had been kind and gentle and tender. But Jackie had grown up on a fierce sea with a fierce father and the fierce loss of her mother. She was fierce. It was in her DNA.

  Need pushed her. Desire muddled her brain. Lust flung her headlong toward him. She covered the distance between them in three running strides and launched herself into his arms.

  Wide-eyed with surprise, Scott’s mouth rounded into a wide O. Jackie planted a kiss on him, with as much finesse as a doberman. Default mode. Take no prisoners.

  His limbs stiffened.

  What was wrong?

  Wrong? How do you expect him to react?

  Like a guy. Take her right now here on the bottom of the boat. Just as she hoped. Yeah. That’s what she wanted.

  Stupid. You don’t have a condom. Why did you start this? You’re coming across as a sex-crazed lunatic—

  And then his mouth came to life beneath hers. His tongue darting between her teeth like blushing wrasse—quick and stealthy. Stealing precious air from her lungs in hungry sucking gulps.

  Okay, so it wasn’t the smoothest kiss ever, but man, was it potent. Full of lusty energy and the flavor of the sea. Salty. Fierce. Just what she needed. Yeah, baby. Take me down.

  Scott pulled her off her feet, pressed her hard against his body. He was aroused. No doubt about it. His erection poked insistently beneath his swim trunks. She tightened her arms around his neck, slackened her jaw. Gave him full access.

  He kissed her hot and hard. Just like she wanted it. No hint of romance. All pure, hot sex.

  Yes, yes.