Aphrodite's Hunt
Page 25
Webbed fingers. She tore her gaze away, not wanting him to catch her staring at the little pieces of skin connecting his fingers at the base. Her mind raced with growing excitement. Webbed fingers.
“Pleased to meet you, Ana.”
“Pleased to meet you,” she murmured back. She glanced at his eyes again. Black as the deepest depths of the ocean. She could almost imagine the whites fading away completely, leaving only that round blackness. The eyes of his other form. A seal’s eyes.
“That’s very nice eye contact you have there,” he said, his voice deadpan. “Are you by any chance reading my soul?”
His tone was joking, but the slight tension in his body and the steady gaze boring into her eyes suggested he’d interpreted her attentions as attraction—and he was interested. Confidence filled Ana’s spirit, building on her excitement. Like a professional fisherman working his line, Ana drew herself up to her full five foot nine. She fixed him with her most seductive smile and tossed her silvery blonde hair over her shoulder.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare,” she purred. “It’s just, if I didn’t know any better, I’d say you were living proof that the old folks’ stories of the selkies are true.”
Brec’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline, a mixture of surprise and something else flashing in his eyes. “The seal people?”
He chuckled and she had to give him credit for not tensing at her mention of his race. He played as if he were surprised, but not uncomfortable. If it weren’t for the webbed fingers and watery black eyes, she’d have doubted her guess.
“The seal people,” she repeated softly, stepping a little closer. “If you’ve been around here long at all, you’ve heard the stories. Devastatingly handsome men coming out of the water, shedding their seal furs so that they can take human lovers?”
His eyes widened, seeming intrigued by her forwardness. “I’ve lived here all my life.” He grinned. “And I am very familiar with the stories.”
I’ll bet you are. And like all the selkies in the stories, I’ll bet you hid your precious skin on the shore.
His gaze darted toward the back of the shop, but he made no move to turn away from her. “Have you seen Mrs. Downing?”
Afraid we’ll be interrupted? She resisted the urge to smirk at what she interpreted as a child’s paranoia of getting caught with his hand in the cookie jar.
“She’s in the back getting my order.” Reminded of the fact that she was still waiting, Ana scowled at the curtain covering the doorway that led to the back of the shop. As convenient as Mrs. Downing’s absence had turned out to be, she still despised being kept waiting. “She assured me it wouldn’t be, but a moment.”
“Mrs. Downing does like to take her time, doesn’t she?”
Forcing her attention away from her impatience, Ana focused on the selkie.
“You sound like you’ve experienced Mrs. Downing’s efficiency before.”
He nodded. “I come in fairly frequently.”
“You live in town?”
“Just outside town you might say.”
Like in the sea just off the shore not a hundred yards away? Is it possible that you left your skin within walking distance?
“Was your trip into town solely to visit Mrs. Downing’s lovely establishment or will you be making a whole day of shopping?” She tried to keep her voice light and only politely inquisitive. For the first time in her life, she was grateful for the nosey nature of Haines’ inhabitants. Brec wouldn’t be the least bit suspicious of her questions. She could probably inquire as to the color of his underwear without making him flinch.
Brec rolled his eyes. “I’m afraid my brother will have some say in that. I have no doubt he’ll drag me to a wide variety of shops before he’ll be ready to head back home.” He leaned in somewhat conspiringly. “I only need to shop here. After that I could do whatever I wanted while I waited for my brother to finish. I’m a sort of doctor, you might say, so I need to come here for—”
“Here you are, Ana,” Mrs. Downing announced, coming through the doorway from the back of the shop. “All set.”
“Thank you so much, Mrs. Downing.” Ana snatched the bag of herbs from the old woman’s hands. The selkie would be shopping with his brother for awhile. If she hurried, she could make it to the shore and be on her way home before he finished. Guilt rolled through her stomach, tightening into a hard knot. Clenching her teeth, she desperately shoved it away. She had to try. She couldn’t last much longer. “Put it all on my tab!” she called to Mrs. Downing. She dashed toward the door, willing herself not to look back.
Read more of UNDER HIS SKIN
About the Author
Jennifer Blackstream is a psychology enthusiast with both a B.A. and M.A. in Psychology. Her fascination with the human mind is most appeased through the study of mythology and folklore as well as the novels of Terry Pratchett.
Jennifer enjoys listening to Alice Cooper, trying new recipes (to which she will add garlic whether it calls for it or not), watching television with her family, and playing with her woefully intelligent three year old son.
Jennifer spends most of her time drinking coffee from her X-Men mug and desperately trying to get all her ideas written down before her toddler can find that all magical button on her laptop to make all her work vanish.
To learn more about Jennifer Blackstream and her novels, visit her website at http://www.jenniferblackstream.com/. In addition to information about J.B. and her books, you will find bonus content (such as deleted scenes, early versions of cover art, and book trailers) and a fan forum full of other treats. Check it out.
Did you find a typo?
I hate typos. I do my best to rid my manuscripts of them before I send them to my editor, and then she does her best to find any stragglers that I missed. Still, sometimes the little buggers get by both of us and leap off the page to torment you, my loyal readers!
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- Jennifer Blackstream
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