SHE HAD TO KISS HIM.
There were a million reasons for Logan to back away from that stipulation, chief among them that she was a mermaid. As much as he hated that fact, he couldn’t deny that he’d wanted to kiss her last night.
Before he’d known.
And could, if he allowed himself, want to again. But she was a mermaid. What would be the point?
There was no future for them. And even if there could be, he had Michael to think of. His son would have to lie to everyone he met because he couldn’t tell anyone that his stepmother was a mer¬maid. Back-to-school night? “Oh, sorry, my wife couldn’t make it. She’s having her tail washed.” Homeroom mom? “Sure, but the lemonade is made with saltwater.”
Never going to happen. No and hell no. He wanted Normal.
A mermaid was not normal.
To bring that thought home, her tail brushed his legs. “Logan?”
And what the hell was he doing even thinking the word wife in relation to her?
“Are you ready?” She floated a little closer. The kiss. Right.
“Yeah. Sure.” He did want to save Michael from the
sea monster, after all—“Hold on a minute. Are you tell-ing me that this… this… thing kissed my son?”
Angel shook her head. “Oh, no. For children, it’s dif-ferent. She just had to touch his lips with her fingers. He’s fine, Logan. Really. I’d bet my life on it.”
Someone’s life was riding on this. He’d start with the shark’s, then the monster’s, then… well, he’d wait to see what happened.
“All right. Let’s get this over with.” He steeled him-self against the memory of last night.
Her mouth thinned to a straight line, and she glanced sideways before swimming closer. A few escaped pieces of her hair floated on the surface, flowing around them as it all had last night, and Logan realized that her hair was all that was covering her breasts. Breasts he’d reveled in last night, licked and kissed and tugged on, cushioned his head on—
Forgetting about last night was going to be harder than he’d thought.
Because, in spite of everything, last night had been all he’d ever hoped for, and, as much as he’d like to forget it, when she licked her lips, when she touched him, he couldn’t.
Last night, making love—being with her, had been amazing. Perfect.
Right.
Everything had been right with his world last night. Her, Michael, all of it. But then she’d gone over the rail-ing and his life had flipped upside down and backwards every bit as much as she and her tail had in the water.
Then her lips brushed his, her breasts stroked his chest, and Logan couldn’t help but remember. Every
taste, every touch. Every silken, sexy caress of her body against his. How he’d responded, almost jumping out of his skin with need.
There’d been something magical with her last night— and it pissed him off no end that it was because she was a mermaid, with her mystical powers, and that damn man-luring ability.
He’d thought it’d been real. That he’d finally had a shot at what he’d always wanted.
Except that he’d fallen for a mermaid.
It was wrong. So wrong, but this… this didn’t feel wrong. This felt like the polar opposite of wrong.
Logan couldn’t help leaning into the kiss.
Then her arms slid over his chest to curl around his shoulders, her fingers feathering along his neck and her lips moved against his, her tongue pressing for entrance into his mouth, and, as naturally as breathing, he let her in, tasting that delicious, heady sweetness of her, wel-coming it. Wanting it.
Wanting her.
Her fingers gripped his hair, and Logan slid an arm around her, pulling her up against him, slanting his head to one side, his tongue sweeping along her teeth, stroking her tongue, not caring if this was mermaid magic because it felt good. Too good. So good that he deepened the kiss.
Angel groaned when Logan bent her back over his arm. Her fingers tightened in his hair, and desire shiv-ered through him.
He still wanted her.
He nipped at her lips, pulling the bottom one between his teeth, stroking it with his tongue, and she tugged harder on his hair.
Logan smiled around the next kiss he gave her, his hand plastered to her back, plastering her front against his. God, she felt so good. She fit against him just right, and her lips—God. Her lips…
He kissed her again, sliding his hand up to capture the nape of her neck, wishing he had some place to put the gaff so he could use both hands.
Wait.
Something about that gaff…
Angel tugged his hair again, but only slowly did Logan realize she was pulling him away.
He removed his mouth from hers and opened his eyes. More of her hair floated around her, a veil of gold, her lips swollen, pupils wide. A tremulous look filled her eyes, and Logan opened his mouth to say something—
He was taking in water.
And not drowning. Not even choking. “Logan? Are you okay?”
He took a deep breath. Gulp. Whatever. He was breathing water.
She’d done this to him. He’d gotten lost in that kiss, and all along, she’d been changing him.
She’s a mermaid, Hardington. Not exactly prime wife and mother material, no matter how you respond to her.
Right. Forget that she’d been everything he’d wanted. That she had the power—both real and inherent— to make him forget what she was. He had to rescue Michael, and this mermaid magic sucked, as far as he was concerned. The sooner this was over, and he and Michael were on land, away from her and sea monsters and everything else, the better.
“I’m fine, Angel.” He had to be fine. He dropped his arm to his side. “Where to?” He adjusted his grip on the grappling hook. Not as dangerous as a harpoon, and with his lack of willpower against Angel’s magic, he didn’t hold out much hope against a sea monster’s, but Logan was glad he was holding it. God only knew what would have happened a moment ago if he’d had two free hands.
“Over there, Logan.”
He followed where she pointed, amazed to see a building where none had existed before. It looked like something out of a fairy tale with turrets and balconies and rows of gothic windows decorating its pink façade. A reef wound around the exterior with every color of coral he’d ever seen, and some he hadn’t. Gray obe¬lisks flanked a massive set of white marble doors and sea grass covered the top of the structure; thousands of colorful tropical fish floated among the gently fanning tendrils, a soft, almost indistinguishable murmur drifting along the current.
“Along with the ability to breathe water, you can now see and hear things that other Humans can’t.” She flicked her tail and headed toward the building, reposi-tioning her hair. “And not to freak you out, but you’ll hear fish talking, too.”
A stingray fluttered along the sandy bottom beneath him, a sea anemone on its back, waving its tentacles as if to emphasize a point.
Logan swam after Angel. “Fish talk, too?” Hmm, his voice sounded normal to him.
As if on cue, a pod of dolphins raced up to them, and one answered that question before she did.
“Princess, I—”
“Princess?” Logan almost shouted. “Now you’re a
princess?”
“I’ve always been a princess, Logan. My father was the High Councilman.”
As if that explained anything. Logan had a headache.
“As I was saying,” the dolphin continued, “I advise against this course of action.”
Angel didn’t stop swimming. “I understand, Captain, but I have to do this.”
Princess? Captain? The dolphin was military? Angel was royalty?
Jesus. There was a whole other world down here that mankind knew nothing about.
“We can’t come with you, Your Highness.”
“I know.” Angel arced gracefully back around to face Logan. “I can’t help dolphins remain under water any longer than they already can, Logan, so it’ll just be you and me. Are you sure you still want to go?”
What was his choice? Leaving Michael to the sea monster’s mercy and Angel to defeat it by herself? “Hell yes, I’m coming.”
The dolphin nodded toward the surface. “We’ll wait there for your return.”
Angel thanked the dolphins and set off again, swim-ming over a sandy mound rising from the ocean floor. At the peak, a sea cucumber sneezed and the starfish that was inching up the side answered, “Gods bless you.”
If Michael weren’t missing and the situation so dire, Logan was sure he’d never believe what he was seeing. But the fact that he was swimming next to a mermaid,
understanding fish and dolphins, hearing an echinoderm sneeze, well, Logan was finding his worldview severely skewed—and severely screwed.“Is there anything that doesn’t talk?”
A crab saluted him from the opposite side of the sand mound, and Logan returned the gesture before realizing the thing was a crab. A pincer-bearing, toe-grabbing, butter-dippable crab.
“Not really,” Angel answered.
Logan wanted his old life back. His old ignorance. Where the craziest thing in his world was the ex-girlfriend who’d changed her name to Rainbow and dropped a heretofore unknown child on his doorstep. Not some new world order where fish talked and mer-maids frolicked. Where sea monsters stole children from their fathers who were just trying to raise their kids in a safe, sane, normal world.
It wasn’t lost on Logan that Rainbow’s hippie life-style was the one that would offer Michael the more normal childhood at the moment—or that he was the parent who wasn’t able to.
But, by God, that was going to change.