Master of the Deep (7 page)

Monroe stood. “Think I’ll get some sun.”

“There should be clean towels in the white cabinet under the rhino horn. And before you ask, the rhino died of natural causes, and it wasn’t anyone we knew.”

Her eyes went wide in shock. That hadn’t even occurred to her.
 

Koenraad caught her hand and squeezed it, and when he looked up at her, the sheer beauty of him, that symmetrical, chiseled face and the blond hair that grazed his cheekbones, made her want to straddle him. Completely inappropriate. She needed to get a grip.

“Take your time,” he said.

She went to the rear of the yacht. The white, built-in lounge chairs looked clean enough, and the sun had probably disinfected any microscopic nastiness, so she didn’t bother risking the hideousness of the cabin for towels. She didn’t plan to take off her clothes anyway. She hadn’t come out here to get a tan. Koenraad had been right; she needed some time to process what he’d told her.
 

She lowered herself onto a chair and folded her arms over her stomach.

Her lover was a shifter. He wasn’t human. That she could live with.

But two dicks? She couldn’t even imagine…

It bothered her, probably more than it should have. In the grand scheme of things, turning into an apex predator was a lot more disturbing than having an extra six inches of flesh. Though if the second was the same as the first, it was much more than six inches. And the barbs. She couldn’t wait to get back to a working web browser and look
that
up.
 

To think that she was the regional manager of a pet supply company and this was the first she was hearing about these things. But she spent more time investigating types of hamster exercise wheels than animal anatomy.
 

She kind of wished he’d never told her. But then, that wouldn’t have been fair to him.
 

And neither was leaving him alone while she sorted through this. But he’d been the one to suggest she take a break. Maybe he needed one, too. She decided to give herself an hour in the sun. Her life had been so simple even three days earlier, and now there was no going back, even if she left Tureygua tomorrow.
 

Her eyelids fluttered shut under the sun’s warm caress, and she drifted off. Some time later, she woke. She had no idea what time it was or how long she’d been asleep. She pushed herself to standing and stretched. Koenraad was where she’d left him, his outline visible through the glass. He was seated, bent over and looking down.

The water was choppy, and she carefully made her way to the front of the boat. Koenraad was engrossed in what looked like a textbook.

He closed the book, and she caught a glimpse of the title.
Selachimorpha Genetics.
Whatever that meant. Unusual choice of reading material, but he did have that academic background in his family.
 

“Why do sharks have two penises?” she asked.

He didn’t seem surprised by her question. “On sharks, they’re technically not penises, but that’s what they become when we shift. I have a question for you: why do men have two testicles?”
 

Monroe’s mouth opened, then closed. Well, damn. She could point out that humans had bilateral symmetry, but he was right. Two balls, but one dick. “Do the females have two—”

“No. Sharks have two because the males often take an off-center position for mating.” He paused. “Are we ok?”

“Yeah. It’s a lot to wrap my mind around. Do your girlfriends usually have a hard time with it?”

He surprised her by saying, “Either she knows going in, or she never finds out.”

“What about your friends and their girlfriends? I mean… how often do humans learn about shifters?”

“It’s not something we advertise.” He adjusted a lever on the control panel. “Last night you mentioned something about liking to visit museums. What kind?”

“Art museums, definitely. And natural history can be interesting.”

“Who’s your favorite painter?”

“Almost all the Impressionists.” She pursed her lips. “I bet you’d love to tour the United Nations. There’s a gift store… Maybe they sell books on how to change the topic of conversation with a little more delicacy.”

He grinned, but he didn’t take the bait. “There’s a pretty nice maritime museum on Curaçao. Maybe we can go over in a few days.”

Monroe looked out the window and realized that while they hadn’t seen much in the way of other boats for some time, now there was activity again.

She hoped they would be docking soon. She wanted solid ground under her feet. The last few hours had been too surreal, and she needed something
normal
to latch onto.

Chapter 6

It was just as well that he needed both hands to carry the water samples off the boat, because Koenraad didn’t get the impression Monroe wanted to be touched.

Obviously he could have given her the information in a better way, but it wasn’t like he had experience with it.
 

And really, was there a good way to break that kind of news?

Yet she’d handled his being a shifter so well. As he thought about it, he realized she hadn’t even been terribly surprised. But then, it had been linked to what she thought of as a near-death experience. Maybe that was the trick… maybe what he should have done was use his genitals to save her life. He snorted, and Monroe looked up at him, her brow furrowed cutely.
 

“What’s so funny?”

No way was he telling her what had just passed through his mind. Not if there was any hope of saving their budding relationship. Instead, he nodded toward the parking lot where a sleek sedan waited. “That’s our ride.”

As they walked up to the car, a woman with short, tightly curled hair stepped out. Last he’d seen Beth, she’d had shoulder-length golden braids. But his nose and ears identified her.
 

She popped the trunk without being prompted, and Koenraad carefully placed the large cardboard box inside. He hoped the lab would be able to tell him something, because delivering these wasn’t how he’d wanted to spend his time with Monroe. Perhaps he should have had someone pick them up, but he wanted to be present for the preliminary inspections.

“Sorry to upend your schedule,” he said.

Beth made a dismissive gesture. “Hey, you’re the boss.”
 

Monroe stiffened at Beth’s words, and Koenraad realized that during his “Shifters who can dive are rich” speech, he’d neglected to mention that he owned the lab. He couldn’t seem to do anything right today.

He opened the back door for Monroe, and when she passed close by him, her aroma sent a bolt of arousal right to his groin.
 

Maybe this overwhelming attraction between them was the problem. He thought he was being smart, being levelheaded, but maybe he was just wrong. The more he thought about it, the more he decided he had moved too quickly. There wasn’t any need to have told her so much already. It could have waited until a future visit.

There wasn’t anything he could do about what had already been clumsily said, but he could certainly put a cap on the rest.
 

He wiped a hand over his face as he went around the other side of the car and got into the back. Monroe already had her seatbelt fastened, and he secured his even though he didn’t need to wear one. Short of exploding into a fireball, there wasn’t much that could happen in a car that he couldn’t recover from unless he decided to shift shapes before the healing was complete.

He thought of the propeller scars on the right side of his body. If he hadn’t shifted human, he never would have gotten them. If he’d been human the whole time, he would have eventually made a full recovery. It just would have taken much longer.

And that was a perfect example of details Monroe didn’t need to know.

Thank goodness she hadn’t asked why he kept pushing her away during oral. She probably assumed it was because of the spurs. That did have something to do with it, but it wasn’t the main reason.

If he told her that swallowing his come would do things to her body, that would be the end of them. He was sure of it. She was barely dealing with the differences between them as it was. If she learned that he had the power to cause changes in her body as well…

Ditto for the
sick
in the water. From now on, he was going to focus on the things they had in common. And if she couldn’t deal with him by the time she left, he’d have to cut her loose for her own sanity.

Christ. No wonder human and shifter relationships were frowned upon. He liked humans, but he sometimes found the differences between man and shifter jarring. That obsession with wealth, for example, and their inability to think long term. And he’d grown up in their world. All this must be a hundred times worse for her.
 

He turned to look at her, intending to apologize, and he was surprised to find she was already looking at him. She smiled, and it was like before, like everything between them was fine again.
 

He returned her smile. “I’m sorry about all of this,” he said.

She shook her head as if trying to dissuade an obnoxious gnat, and he was almost amused at how unaware she’d been of her own discomfort earlier. Monroe was a lot of things, but he didn’t get the impression that she was closely in touch with her feelings. He wondered if there was a reason for that.
 

“Don’t apologize.” She laughed shakily. “I’m sorry. I’m not the most spontaneous, flexible person in the world. Anyway, I have more questions. For later.”

Heaven help him.

She leaned forward and pointed, and he could sense her curiosity in her elevated heartbeat and the dilation of her pupils. “What are those birds that look like parrots?” she asked.

“They’re parrots,” Beth said, sounding equal parts surprised and amused. “I guess you’re not from around here.” Beth’s dark eyes flickered to the rear-view mirror.

“No,” Monroe said. “Where I come from, we only have pigeons. And not normal pigeons. They’ve got tattoos, and they curse a lot.” She stared at the parrot until it was out of view.
 

Beth took another, longer look at Monroe, and Koenraad had a feeling that his relationship with Monroe would be spread far and wide before they got back to Tureygua.

The lab was located thirty minutes from where they’d left the boat. Monroe stared raptly out the window, asking questions about the trees, the construction of the homes. She knew enough Spanish to translate many of the road signs they passed.

Her enthusiasm wasn’t exactly contagious. This wasn’t a pretty area, but he did enjoy seeing her so excited. He thought about what she’d said earlier, about everything being new, but he imagined the novelty would wear off pretty quickly.

Chapter 7

“Wow,” Monroe said as she followed Koenraad through BioAmbition’s glass doors.
 

Koenraad assumed she was exaggerating, being polite. “Not what you were expecting?” he asked.

“This place is posh!”

And she seemed to mean it. He glanced around the lobby. It was crisp, clean lines, black tile, bright leafy plants. Not
that
impressive, and certainly not posh. Or had he lost all perspective?
 

No, Monroe liked it because she knew he owned it. He wanted to kiss her for that.

The receptionist, a youngish woman Koenraad didn’t recognize, smiled encouragingly at them. “May I help you?”

“Koenraad!” a deep voice boomed before Koenraad could answer. He wasn’t surprised. He turned to see Spencer coming toward him. Spencer wore a spotless white lab coat, complete with a badge clipped to the breast pocket, and black shoes that squeaked on the floor with every step. His brown hair was lightly gelled away from his face, and his dark blue eyes sparkled. “So you see that it hasn’t burned to the ground yet,” he said, but already his gaze had flickered to Monroe, and Koenraad knew
exactly
what he was thinking.
 

Spencer was a shark, after all, with the same hyper-acute senses as Koenraad. But even if Spencer couldn’t have smelled that Koenraad wore Monroe’s scent on his skin, he would have known. They’d been too close for too long.

He made the necessary introductions, then said, “Thanks for coming in on such short notice, but you’re the only one I trust. I owe you.”

Spencer shrugged. “It’s a favor that will help us all. Shall we get started?”

“I think I’ll treat myself to an ice cream in that mini shopping center next door,” Monroe said.
 

“One second.” Koenraad handed off the box to Spencer, and he dug in his pockets.

“What are you doing?” Monroe asked.

“You’ll need money.”

Her brow creased, and a pink blush spread over her cheeks. “I have money,” she said, her voice low. He’d embarrassed her.

He found the crumpled bills he’d been looking for. “There’s no money exchange nearby,” he said, and understanding dawned in her eyes.
 

So she was sensitive about taking money from him. Interesting. After he’d begged her to stay another week in the Caribbean, she’d given him a bit of a hard time about rebooking her ticket home, but he’d told her, truthfully, that it didn’t cost him anything. He might have let her believe he’d used miles, but in fact he’d charged it to one of his father’s accounts.

He’d have to be careful in the future.

She accepted the money and thanked him, and he watched her walk back out through the glass doors. Her white dress was stunning, and he could just barely see the print of that sinful bikini underneath.
 

“Shall we?” Spencer asked.

Three weeks had passed since Koenraad last visited the lab, and that coincided with when he’d been able to get Spencer to come on part time to oversee things. It hadn’t been easy to lure his friend away from his career as a high-profile biotech genius, and Koenraad had written a lot of checks to Spencer’s favorite charities. In the end, he knew Spencer had agreed only because he knew Koenraad would never stop asking.

Once Spencer learned the real reason for Koenraad’s persistence, he’d agreed to stay on as long as it took.