Ocean of Love (5 page)

A brisk jaunt to the shore would be
therapeutic. To face her fear and prove the ocean wasn’t on a
personal vengeance against her during the day might arrest some
anxiety.

“
C’mon little lady.” He
grabbed her bag from her shoulder. “Do you mind?”

“
No. Of course not.” She
high-tailed it up the board walk following on his heels.

He shoved his shoes inside her bag and
tugged at her hand. They treaded down the steps and jogged over the
beach. Marissa’s feet streaked across the sand only hampered by her
narrow skirt.

“
Race?” He
dared.

“
You’re on.” She cinched up
her skirt and didn’t struggle to keep up. She jogged each morning.
But navigating this shifting ground, she dug in her toes, and the
grains of sand under her feet were delicious, unlike pounding
cement or the five miles she meticulously ran every morning come
rain, sun, or wind.

Running over the beach, Marissa let the
smell of the sea, the heat of the sun along her skin, and the sand
between her toes calm her nerves.

They slowed to a walk, still hand in hand.
“This property is worth every cent. I expect to negotiate an
advantageous deal including a limitation on who is permitted
access,” he said.

“
Zoning prohibits fencing
for the last twenty yards in front of the shoreline. Security
guards are the standard, along with enforced property
lines.”

She scanned the row of chaise lounges,
adrenaline dripping into her blood stream. She gazed out to
clusters of rolling waves, ribbons of white caps tumbled and
tossed. She pushed up her sunglasses. Dolphins swam close to shore,
occasionally breaking from the water in acrobatic leaps. A show of
power and grace typically occurred during the February mating
season.

A burst from the ocean crashed right in
front of them, two yards from the shore, sending sea spray inches
from her body. Marissa would shriek louder than a wet cat if
seawater touched her.

“
Man, did you see them,” he
shouted. “I don’t think they abide much by property
lines.”

She slowed, unable to risk getting closer.
“You go. My hair will look like a knotted fishing net given the
humidity.”

He frowned, not letting go of her hand, and
stopped. “Come with me. Just for a minute.”

“
Please don’t ask again. I
simply can’t.” A few feet to go. She all but yanked her hand from
his grasp.

“
Women.” He muttered
something else over his shoulder, and whatever he said was lost on
the wind.

She hadn’t been back to the ocean since last
month. She had mastered finding secluded places to park along the
uninhabited beaches, giving her access. This condition demanded her
return for renewal. Ever since puberty, if she didn’t heed this one
rule, her body had a cycle that wasn’t pretty. The couple of times
she’d put off her night swim, her body had weakened, painfully.
Rarely had she experienced such a dismal state.

In a few hours, she’d come back. Always had
to come back.

Each month. When the moon was full, she’d
swim naked, unfettered beneath the waves. Tonight, somehow, she’d
have to slip away from Wyatt under the cover of darkness. What
would it be like to swim with him in the surf, twine her arms
around him, pressing her body against his hard form?

A spiraling vortex was alive inside her
body, being so close to the ocean, and unable to take the plunge.
Every month, she wondered if her strange condition would resolve
itself. Two legs disappeared, or rather, united, connecting her
pelvis and hips under iridescent skin. In the flick, if ocean water
touched her skin, these legs transformed into a long tail. Long
ago, she’d learned the boundaries of what she could and couldn’t do
to keep from changing into a form that was nearly impossible to
comprehend. Her parents had come here from a town bordering the
Norwegian Sea. Her father and mother had been the same, and that
was the extent of her knowledge about her heritage. Now, alone, and
with no one to help her comprehend her condition, she kept her
secret tightly locked away.

An overpowering current surged inside her
blood. The ocean waves called to her. She longed to strip off her
clothes and return to the sea. A choice—with no coming back. Is
that what she wanted? The image of her family overtook her—netted,
captured, and killed.

“
Don’t go there,” she
softly directed herself. She’d been too young to save them, and
reliving that day never lessened the pain or guilt of
surviving.

She wrapped her arms around her middle to
keep her jacket closed. The spray from the ocean was enough to
cause her skin to begin to change. From smooth flesh, her
underbelly beneath this shirt itched and burned. She didn’t need to
touch her skin to know the outline of scales were near to erupting.
She retreated from the shore. A driving force she’d avoided, yet
could not escape.

Wyatt’s shadow crossed hers on the sand.
“Hey, where are you going?” He moved in front of her, still wearing
her purse, and bent down, kneeling in front of her. “I didn’t even
see where I was standing down there. Honestly, I’ve seen so many
beaches, when one this enthralling is available, I tend to get
lost. I’m not as dense as I might appear.”

“
I’m only glad you’re
pleased.”

“
More than pleased.” He
grazed his fingers over her face. Flitting and fast. A rare moment
to share with another person so close to her real home. “If you run
off, I’ll find you. I promise.”

Never before had she stood here with a man
she found so humanly appealing. His overreaching appeal made
loneliness stab her. Tears spiked her eyes: the only form of salt
water that didn’t force her to transform from human to partial
fish.

No curse, no story, no painting could
describe what she’d become when wet. From human to a myth unlocked.
Not a tiny detail or glitch, her story came complete with
mythological proportions in the form of a sleek body, hard to miss
with the shimmering variations of turquoise, aqua, midnight blue.
What would he think about her? Mermaid, siren, goddess of the sea.
Or a mishap of nature.

Whatever the term, it would not matter. To
transform in daylight equated a prison sentence where she’d be
captured, studied, and kept locked away. Alone.

So she never dated, never swam in the
daylight, and never once imagined she’d have an excuse to risk her
secret. Until now.

Chapter Four

Wyatt had parked behind Marissa, watching
her for several minutes and still he couldn’t get over being around
her. She’d seemed frozen as she had stared at the ocean. That
quality sunk in deep. Rarely had he found another person mesmerized
by sea. It was the reason he built condos on beachfront property.
His excuse to be constantly near the sea, in all its glorious
forms. He and his parents had lived on a sailboat docked at the
marina. Starting in childhood, his father had taught him how to
sail, snorkel, and navigate by the stars. Then on his twelfth
birthday, his parents had introduced him to the quiet, magical
world by teaching him how to dive. Alone under water, he’d felt a
bond with the ocean. He loved the feel of the sand and saltwater.
His destiny and one he never fought but carefully propagated into
an international business. No need to tell Fortune his secret
reason for success.

Now, ever since he’d
followed Sinclair down a hall and was left standing in the doorway
with a pair of bewitching, aqua eyes staring back at him, his only
thought was
damn it had been a long time
since he’d gotten lost
.

His head still spun from the rapid-fire
questions Marissa had launched inside her office. He could tell
after spending five seconds with her, this woman didn’t mess
around. Not across a conference table and not with a man who was
her client. But hell, he wished the last part was negotiable.

They’d left her office, and he was supposed
to meet her at the first property, except Hannah had called with a
series of construction loan questions and he’d lost his
concentration. He’d gritted his teeth, watching Marissa drive off
while he was stuck at a red light. Something in him didn’t want her
to leave his sight.

Even now, he frowned, gazing out over the
rolling waves. It had been too long since he’d lost track of the
finish line. His back was to Marissa, but there was no mistaking
what lay underneath the dark suit, lack of outer trappings, the
no-frills shoes she wore. Since the first time they’d met, his
dazed brain was saturated by Marissa. Grappling with her impact, he
was unable to pinpoint a specific detail overpowering him. His cock
seconded a motion to look closer. Much closer. He didn’t know how,
yet he’d bet his beach property that soon they’d be lovers. He’d do
whatever it took to move well beyond any form of wishful
thinking.

He watched the water swirling around his
ankles. He dug his toes into the sand, unable to recall the last
time he’d done anything similar. Something in him synchronized
being near Marissa and the ocean. A tidal swelling or just a crazy
feeling. Either way, she was key.

He glanced back at her and softly swore,
“Jesus Christ.”

She was bending at the
waist giving him an eyeful of lush curves. At this rate, he might
as well dive right into the Atlantic waves to cool off.
Pronto.

The woman was too good to be true. From the
way she had looked over her glasses to the far-away glaze that had
come over her face, she held herself apart as if carried away in
deep thought more than a few times. He’d give plenty to learn the
secrets she labored over. She didn’t smile much. The rare occasion
Miss Silverpointe had graced him with a grin lanced him in a way
that reminded him of when he’d been free and unconstrained by a
choke-hold of constant construction site problems.

Marissa Silverpointe. He almost laughed out
loud at how she had glossed over his dinner invitation. She’d be a
pleasure to watch operate. Bet her dainty feathers rarely got
ruffled. Bet she was counting the minutes and thinking, wading at
the shore was a glorious waste of time.

The professional in him got that part of
her—the tough exterior was a veneer.

The man in him wanted to
unveil her until she was spread wide open to him.
Good God.
The million
things he’d do, if he got the chance with her.

“
C’mon,” he’d shouted. “The
water’s marvelous.”

She shook her pretty head unimpressed.

Man. She was a real
ballbuster
. He couldn’t blame her. He
wasn’t much for spending the day on a towel without diving into the
sea, but no one could argue with the potential of this site. Great
place to watch the waves; scads of sunbathers lined the
beach.

He looked up and down the shoreline.

Hell’s
bells
. He hadn’t realized he was smack in
the middle of a bunch of topless sunbathing women. No wonder
Marissa kept her distance.

He swung around and took what seemed like a
hit to his gut. The sunlight poured over Marissa, shimmered off her
skin creating a halo around her body or some reflective effect.
Probably something she lathered over her naked self after a shower.
She positively glowed.

He imagined her unclothed body, and his cock
hardened. Even standing there with her arms wrapped around her
middle, she was a provocative sight. Skirt hiked up on her hips
revealing a good bit of thigh and her blond hair having come
undone. At this rate, he’d be sporting a full-blown hard-on.

Quit acting like you’re
fifteen around her.
He stopped staring at
Marissa and pictured how a sleek, glass and metal condominium would
appear beyond his realtor. Crap, if she was in the photo layout,
the selling point would be a no-brainer. The weight of her bag
sprang to mind. He was carrying her purse. Some sight he must be to
Marissa.

Behind those sunglasses, he couldn’t get a
feel for the direction of her thoughts, never mind any potential
interest she may or may not have in him on a personal note. She had
agreed to a business dinner; perhaps he could start with something
more relevant. Say, lunch.

He trudged back from the water’s edge.
Marissa’s back was turned when he reached her.

“
You hungry?” he asked,
inhaling her scent.

“
Am I ever?” She stopped
snapping photographs with a sleek digital camera, and reached for
her bag.

“
I hope you can’t hear my
stomach rumble. Don’t think poorly of me but I’m starved. There are
several restaurants opposite the boardwalk. Do you want to phone
Sinclair?”

A few wild curls played havoc at her
temples. She swiped at them, brushing them behind her ear. Damn,
he’d be willing to forget lunch and find the nearest hotel if she
agreed. It had been a long time since he’d been this tempted.
Marissa twisted her hair and repinned the sheet of blond silk back
into the realm of neat-prim-and-off-limits. He watched her,
tantalized but held to merely drinking in her sight.

“
I’m hungry as well. Tell
me, do you ever do more than act the realtor?”

“
What do you
mean?”

“
Is this all you do down on
South Beach? What about seeing the sights from a more laid-back
position.” The idea was more about seeing her tonight. What he’d do
if she’d unwind her hair for him. Better to get the ball rolling
and he hastily pulled out his phone. “Where do you want to
eat?”