Pulling Lialani into his arms, Kyle kissed her deeply, communicating all his love and commitment toward her. “Your heart is beating in time with mine,” his lips brushed hers as he spoke.
Pushing his now shoulder-length brilliant gold hair away from his face, Lialani gazed into his clear emerald eyes and avowed, “Always."
The End
Marine Biology
by
Diane Merlin
Isabo saves a merchild. Staal is determined to keep both his niece and Isabo. Will sex be their downfall or their salvation?
www.dianemerlin.com
Dedication: To the readers who share my love of the paranormal.
Diane Merlin is a wife, mother, and grandmother who never outgrew her love of the bizarre and the unusual. She spends her time penning tales of love, but never the everyday garden variety. Her stories always contain a unique element be it futuristic worlds, vampires, or shape shifters. She invites you to settle back and enter the fantasy...
Also by Diane Merlin from
www.midnightshowcase.com
The Keeper
Marine Biology
by
Diane Merlin
Chapter One
Isabo Maready scanned the water as she adjusted her mouthpiece. It was a postcard perfect day on the Atlantic Ocean. The noonday sun beat down on the aquamarine water, causing her to squint against the glare. A few gulls soared high overhead. Otherwise, there was nothing in view but water and more water. Just the way she liked it. Barely making a sound, she slipped into the ocean.
Twenty minutes later, she was heading back toward the marker she'd left attached to her boat. Another day had passed and still no sign of the shrimper Wetdream, lost more than a month ago off the coast of Nags Head. Her former lover Ben Ryan had taken his boat out with a three-man crew and never returned. His widow, Eileen, had called and asked her to search for the boat. She told Isabo the insurance wouldn't pay till there was proof positive the boat was lost, and since there was a baby on the way, she needed the money. Yeah. Just for the baby, my ass. Eileen had always been a money hungry bitch.
Isabo put in for her accumulated month of vacation time, rented a little cottage on the ocean near the town of Whalebone and set out to search for what had become of the boat and her crew. The Coast Guard had provided her with the coordinates of Wetdream at her last contact, and she'd set up a search grid based on that information. But the Atlantic was a big place. Isabo had her work cut out.
Thoughts of Ben left her nostalgic. She let her mind drift back to the last time they were together. Moisture flooded between her legs, and her temperature rose several notches. Ben wasn't the stuff of locker room legends, but he sure had a talented tongue.
A flash of color caught her attention off to the left. Checking her diver's watch, she reckoned she had enough air for a quick look. Moments later, she saw the distinctive outrigger of a shrimp boat. Maybe my luck has changed. Closer inspection showed that it was indeed the Wetdream.
Isabo circled around checking for predators prior to entering the vessel. From out of nowhere, sharks began to gather. What in the world is attracting them? Surely there was nothing left of the men who were aboard. Whatever, she didn't plan to stay around long enough to find out. From the stern, Isabo's trained eye glimpsed another fish tail. One not belonging to a shark. One that didn't look familiar even to a marine scientist. Eyeing the sharks, she eased closer, unable to leave her professional curiosity unsatisfied.
Drawing abreast of the netting winch, Isabo saw something that caused her to totally disregard the sharks that were increasing in number and circling closer. The most incredible creature was ensnared by the lines Wetdream had been running from the back of the trawler. If she didn't know better, she'd swear it was a mermaid. A mermaid, for heaven's sake. Long flowing hair, human torso, fish tail. Nah. Couldn't be. She had to get a closer look. As she neared the creature, she could see the blood clouding the water—and calling to the sharks like the dinner bell on a ranch. If she planned to do anything, it had better be soon.
Grasping the iridescent tail, Isabo held it still while she investigated the problem. A large barbed hook was imbedded near the flared end. She absolutely didn't have time to worry about it now. She had to get the creature away from the beasts eyeing them like a smorgasbord. Sliding the knife she kept strapped to her ankle free of its scabbard, Isabo sliced through the tangled monofilament and pushed hard toward the direction she prayed her boat was anchored. Two slim arms slid around her neck as she swam. Isabo glanced down into the perfect face of a beautiful child. This was one situation she was not prepared to deal with.
As she neared her borrowed Boston Whaler, Isabo had to question what the hell she was doing. She didn't even know if the little girl—she couldn't bring herself to think of the child as a mermaid—could breathe air. Guess there was only one way to find out.
Isabo broke the surface and spit out her mouthpiece, watching to see if the child began to choke.
Instead of gasping, the child reached up and ran a finger across the glass of Isabo's mask.
"Okay, little one, let's get you aboard.” Grasping the side of the ladder, Isabo pulled them both into the boat. Laying the child down, she examined the hook. It was deep, and loss of blood was a concern. She decided to speed back to her cottage and work on it where she had more supplies.
Cranking up the twin Mercurys, Isabo had the boat on a plane in a matter of minutes, speeding toward Whalebone. As the boat slapped the tops of waves, Isabo bent her knees to absorb the impact. “Hang on, baby. I'm going as fast as I can."
Of course, the child said nothing.
All the way home, she worried about what to do. If she took the—damn, like it or not, the kid was half fish—mermaid to a hospital, the government would take her away to study. It'd be just like Splash, only Tom Hanks wouldn't be there to save her. No. In good conscience, she couldn't do that. So, what? Take her to a veterinarian? Did they work on mermaids? Hell, they'd just call the government guys, and she'd be right back where she started.
She had no real choice. She had to remove the hook and try to doctor the child herself. She hoped the kid didn't get an infection. What the hell would she do if the kid got sick? Did merpeople take antibiotics, or would it kill them?
She kept glancing down at the beautiful little creature in the bottom of the boat. White blond hair billowed around the upper body of a human child. Brilliant blue eyes were in constant motion, taking in everything about Isabo and the boat. Time seemed to drag, but a glance at the speedometer told her they were making excellent time.
As soon as the boat was tied up to the dock, Isabo grabbed up the little mermaid and headed for the house. Isolated as it was, she didn't fear being seen, but she did worry about the distance from the ocean. Separating a fish from water wasn't a good idea.
Maybe when she got the hook out she'd be able to think of some way to get some ocean water up to the bathroom so she could get the kid back in salt water. Releasing her back in the wild didn't seem advisable. It was obvious she was dealing with a child. No child, whatever species, should be left alone, especially wounded. Where the hell were her parents anyway? Frowning, she looked at the child carefully. Could she even be sure she was a girl? Just because she was beautiful didn't mean she wasn't a boy. Nah. Had to be a girl.
Isabo wasn't particularly talkative, but she was dying of curiosity. “What's your name, little one?” she asked.
No answer.
Sighing, she set about snipping off the barbed end of the hook so it could be removed as painlessly as possible. She talked to the child as she worked. “I know this hurts, sweetie, but it has to be done.” Isabo applied peroxide liberally to the wound site. “This stuff bubbles away all the bad germs. Hopefully any infection will bubble out, too. I sure don't want you getting sick. I don't have any idea how to make you well if you do. And I damn sure don't want any government scientists getting their grubby hands on you.” She finished up and looke
d over to see the Carolina blue eyes watching every move she made. Isabo smiled. “You're such a pretty little thing.” Smoothing the hair back from the pale oval face, Isabo was surprised to find the texture somewhat coarse. She'd just assumed it would be fine, like other children she'd known. “We need to do something with your hair, sweetie. Out of the salt water it's a wild mess, isn't it?"
Several hours later, Isabo rubbed at the small of her back as she returned the wheelbarrow to the shed in the back yard. She'd made many backbreaking trips down to the shore to fill up a rain barrel she'd appropriated. The barrels of ocean water had been dumped into the old claw-footed bathtub where Ariel now rested. I mean, what else would you call a little mermaid?
Isabo needed a bath in the worst way. Unfortunately, the baby was now resting in the only bathtub. Looking around, she decided no one lived near enough to worry about, so she draped the garden hose over a tree branch, fetched her shampoo and soap from the house and stripped down before sundown seeped the heat away and she froze to death. She hadn't taken a shower in the yard in years. It was just as miserable as she remembered. Her nipples puckered, her lips turned blue, and goose flesh dotted her skin from head to toe.
* * * *
Lying on his stomach in a clump of sea oats, Staal watched as the strawberry blond woman stripped down to bathe. He grew painfully aroused watching her soap her breasts and bend down to wash her legs, exposing herself fully to him. If the bitch weren't a kidnapper, he'd like to have a go at that plump pink pussy. As it was, she'd be lucky to escape alive. No one stole a merchild and lived to tell it.
Yeah, he'd definitely be back to make a justice call, once he'd completed his mission. Easing back the way he'd come, he made his way slowly around to the other side of the house. He'd just slip in, retrieve his niece and have her well out to sea before the human was any the wiser. The woman would play hell getting anyone to believe her if she didn't have a specimen to back up her allegations.
Gingerly, he turned the knob on the front door. Shit. Who locked doors out in the boondocks like this? Sidestepping, he tried a window. That one appeared to be painted shut. Methodically he worked his way around, looking for an easy point of entry.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? I'm going to call the sheriff."
Perfect. Just what he needed, another problem. Staal decided to bluff. “How do you do?” He smiled, hoping to put her at ease. “My name is Staal Jusko, and I've come to get my niece back."
Wrapped in a threadbare beach towel, Isabo approached the skulking man. “Bullshit."
"I beg your pardon?” The intruder wore a pair of swim trunks, riding low on his hips, and nothing else.
How can a common thief sound so uppity? On second thought, there was nothing common about the man. Isabo narrowed her eyes, looking him over. Six feet two, broad shoulders and narrow hips, dark brown hair and the most incredible aquamarine eyes she'd ever seen. He was damn near perfect.
She gave his crotch a quick glance. The healthy bulge made her think he might just be perfect. “Beg all you like. But be gone from here by the time I get inside, or I'll have the law after you.” She headed for the kitchen door, careful not to turn her back on the intruder.
Staal followed her. “Wait. You don't understand. Lorali needs to go home."
Isabo squared her shoulders and faced off with the guy. “What I understand is that that baby was caught in fishing line that was attached to a sunken boat. Sharks were circling. Who the hell was supposed to be watching her?” What? I've fallen through the rabbit hole? I'm on Candid Camera? I can't really be standing here talking to some kind of he-man about a mermaid. “Look Mister..."
"Jusko. Staal Jusko."
"Mr. Jusko, it's been a long day. I'm afraid you've got the wrong house. I don't know what you're talking about. And if you don't get off my property I'll call the cops.” She stepped through the doorway and turned the deadbolt, the click putting an emphatic end to the conversation.
Chapter Two
Stunned by her reversal, Staal decided to try a different tack himself. Easing closer, he leaned against the door jam. “If you call the authorities they'll take her away and do experiments on her. Is that what you want?” With a little luck, he could play on her concern for Lorali. He hoped he'd read the woman right. If he hadn't and she tried to call the law, he'd have to do something drastic.
The lock clicked again, and the door eased open slightly. “How do you know about her? Were you watching the whole time? I'll bet you're from Joe's team aren't you? That sounds like something he'd do, send a spy out to watch me. Just because he isn't talented enough to make any discoveries on his own.” Warming to her subject, she opened the door a little wider and leaned out. “Last year when he stole my research paper and turned it in—taking full credit—wasn't enough? What does he plan to do? Dog my every step for the rest of my life?"
Staal looked her over from her Carmen Miranda do with the towel wrapped around her head to the tiny red-tipped toes. His favorite part was wrapped in the Little Mermaid towel. How appropriate. The knot slipped as she grew more animated. He sent up a little prayer, which was answered almost immediately. The towel caught briefly on the tips of her breasts then drifted to the ground. The shock put an end to her tirade. Always a man of action, Staal reacted according to his nature, instinct pushing him to stake a claim on her. Swift and sure, he snagged her around the waist and pulled her toward him, swooping down to kiss her before she could object.
Holy shit, the man was incredible. If he could have her this wet and ready from a simple kiss, what would he be like in the sack? Isabo allowed herself a few moments of indulgence as Staal explored her mouth, but when his hands cupped her ass and drew her close, she panicked and took a step back. She did not need to get distracted by hot sex and allow Joe's goon to get the better of her. In what she hoped was an insulting gesture, she wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. “So, did he recruit you from the set of a porn movie, or are you just naturally talented?"
Staal blinked, trying to adjust to yet another reversal. “Excuse me?"
"Yeah, like you don't know what I mean.” Hastily she grabbed up her towel and secured it between her breasts. “Joe Calvo. Remember Joe? The one who sent you after me—Isabo Maready—the woman with enough brains and insight to support two careers in Marine Science. Did he really think I'd spill my guts for a little nookie?” Granted, in your case it's tempting, Hunkalicious.
Staal shook his head. “You are mistaken. I don't know this Joe guy. I'm only here for my niece. Surely you know you can't keep her. If she were discovered it would be devastating.” Searching her face for a sign that she was weakening, he made his move when she glanced nervously over her shoulder. “Please, Isabo,” his aquamarine eyes mesmerized her, boring into her soul. “She's just a little girl.” Moving closer, Staal slid his hand beneath the towel, sending it back to the floor. Resting a hand on her waist, his chest brushed against her breasts, branding the tips with the heat of their attraction.
The sound of her name rumbling from his chest caused Isabo's heart rate to speed up. The feel of his hand on her bare skin had her blood turning to liquid fire. The touch of his chest to her breast sent a bolt of lightning to her womb. She was discriminating about her partners, but if Isabo had a vice it was sex, and Staal promised to be the chance of a lifetime. She'd never felt such attraction. Never thrown caution to the wind after such a brief acquaintance. Stepping back into the house, she motioned him in with her head. “I suppose we could discuss it like civilized people."
A wicked smile broke out across his all too masculine face. “Isabo, I'm not the least bit civilized.” Staal kicked the door shut behind him.
Before she had taken two steps, Isabo felt the iron grip of his hand around her wrist. Not hurting, but impossible to break. Reeling her in, Staal's mouth descended to capture hers.
I'm probably going to regret this was Isabo's last thought before she opened her mouth and invited her own downfall.
> Gentle exploration gave way to voracious devouring; Staal's tongue dueling, lips drawing and teeth nipping. Totally dominating Isabo.
She couldn't get enough of him. Gripping his hips, she pulled him closer, winding a leg around him and tilting her pelvis toward the release he promised. Pressure built till she thought she'd die. “Please. Touch me."
Shoving the towel aside, he grasped her hair, holding her head still for his ravaging attention. Sliding a palm down her side, he left over-sensitized skin in its wake. Kneading her buttocks, he whispered, “Tell me what you want, baby. What you like."
"Everything. I like everything. I want everything.” Could that be her voice, raspy with desire, insistent yet imploring? She nipped his bottom lip, drawing blood, and then sucked it into her mouth, laving it with her tongue.
Staal was stunned. His people were completely unbridled in their mating, but he had never known a human to be so. The slender woman in his arms had his heart pounding, each beat echoed by the pulse in his throbbing penis. He was sure he'd never been so hard in his life. Lowering his head, he latched onto a turgid nipple, sucking hard enough to cause a rush of moisture that soaked the front of his shorts. If he didn't get inside her soon he was going to die.
Isabo whimpered as she plucked at the ties of his pants.
The sound galvanized Staal into action. Lifting her, he pressed her back into the wall. She tried to wrap both legs around him but he stalled her long enough to wiggle out of his shorts. Without preamble, he slammed home, driving so deep his balls slapped against her ass. Again and again, he drove into her, building the friction to a frantic height. Isabo locked her ankles at the small of his back, tilting her pelvis to receive him. When Staal couldn't hold back any longer, he reached down to press against her clit, setting off fireworks that would shame any Fourth of July celebration. As she keened her release, he pumped his life deep into her womb, ignoring the possible consequences for the pleasure of the moment.
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