Stolen by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 4) Page 2

  With his familiar touch, her soul light flared to a bright, sweet heat. The air between them flooded with pulses of arousal. Her flush awoke his hunger.

  They had exchanged a million kisses. Morning kisses, welcome kisses, hungry kisses. And then, none. In days of endless darkness, he had dreamed of her fiery taste.

  Elan tilted his head to fit his lips to hers.

  Her hand cupped his jaw to stop him.

  He hesitated.

  Her slender thumb stroked his cheek. Plump lips teased his rough chin. Her whisper emerged as a desperate, hungry plea. “You can’t. I’ve forgotten.”

  “Remember. Now.”

  “I…” She closed her eyes and sucked in a deep breath as though savoring him. “No. I just can’t.”

  “Then I will remind you.” He buried his mouth in her kiss.

  Chapter Two

  With the touch of Elan’s lips, Zara’s world collapsed.

  His firm lips stamped hers like a promise and then softened, nibbled at her resistance. His tongue stroked her seam and teeth scored her plump lower lip. Sensation cascaded over her in a waterfall.

  This was Elan. Elan was life. She needed him like she needed oxygen. She’d been numb for a year. Desperately, she needed him filling her body with sensation.

  Zara opened her mouth to him.

  His tongue delved in, tasting and exploring, curling around hers in a sensual dance, giving and taking and giving again. She almost cried. He tightened, his only sign of triumph to press her closer and make her more aware of his desire.

  She couldn’t melt. She couldn’t fall back into this all-consuming passion. She wasn’t the same. Nothing was the same.

  But…

  His scent, ocean salt and masculinity, entranced her nose. Strong biceps secured her to his side and his thick cock pressed his arousal against her hip, sending little rivulets of hunger to her feminine center. It had been so long, and she had only ever, in her whole life, wanted him.

  He kissed her as if there was no tomorrow, no yesterday, only now.

  She sank into his delicious embrace, savoring his addictive flavor. Every thrust of her tongue only heated her with more desire, feeding her need as it stoked her hunger. Her heart pounded, breasts swelled, thighs squeezed together as the ache of reawakened pleasure brought her back to life.

  The male who had been her husband knew her body, knew what she liked, and generously gave it to her. He always had. He always would.

  Or would he?

  Shock cut through her passion. She shuddered and pushed free.

  Elan released her reluctantly. Dark shadows scored his passionate, aquamarine-threaded blue eyes. He breathed heavily.

  So did she.

  She pressed both hands against her racing heart. Elan made her too vulnerable. And the only way to keep herself safe was to cut him off now. Before once more he curled around her soul and awoke her old, shattered fantasies.

  He started to reach for her. “Zara—”

  She stopped him with everything she had. “This can’t happen again.”

  His jaw flexed. Unspoken in his powerful stance was that it would happen again. But he dropped his hand.

  Good.

  In Elan’s arms, her son Zain watched them with wide, beautiful eyes. He’d spent the whole kiss nestled in the crook of Elan’s right arm.

  Need to touch her baby surged again. Prove he was real, stroke his baby skin, and apologize for the twisting, shameful ache. She had failed to protect him and this year of lost time was her fault.

  Zain turned away, intuiting her desperation.

  Her heart broke. Again.

  “Your sadness is too heavy.” Elan covered Zain’s trembling shoulders with seaweed. “Calm yourself.”

  “You try,” she snapped, cinching one arm around her waist to keep her eviscerated feelings from spilling out.

  Elan’s jaw tightened.

  Yes. She was out of line. Zara didn’t want to yell. She wanted her baby, who she hadn’t seen in a year, to nestle in her arms. Not burrow away in fear.

  She forced her apology through her teeth. “Sorry.”

  Elan’s brows drew together sadly. “Do not be sorry. He needs your calm, not your apology.”

  How could she be calm when emotions bulged out of her chest like a shaken soda can? Desire — fear — horror — need exploded in her heart. Seeing Zain and Elan tore down her very foundations, leaving her raw and pulsing heart flayed open.

  Zain whimpered.

  Hurting Zain was literally the last thing she wanted to do.

  Zara hardened herself.

  She wouldn’t frighten her son. She wouldn’t touch him until he no longer feared her. She wouldn’t traumatize him with her brokenness and need. She’d take her time and make their relationship right.

  Elan was another story.

  The crowds on the other side of the Azores beach barrier grew louder and the island polícia, behind her, discussed what to do with Elan and Zain. The head officer asked her sister Milly, who was standing just inside the barrier, about where they were staying.

  “We have a house,” Milly answered. “But it’s not open to guests.”

  “They may be placed in a detention facility,” the officer said in excellent, nearly accentless English. “No merman has ever requested asylum. This matter could go in front of the President.”

  Zara couldn’t leave them in a detention facility. She had to recover her equilibrium to reconnect with her son, which meant that right now, she needed to keep Elan close. Even though he destroyed her equilibrium like a sand castle under a crashing wave.

  She gripped onto control like fighting for a handful of sand. “You and Zain will stay with me until we figure this out. But once I’ve calmed down, you have to go.”

  The shadows under his eyes darkened. “Only me?”

  “Only you.”

  Even though Zain was heart-breakingly terrified of her, she would never let her baby go. Never again. His fear would fade. She would win him over.

  His father was another matter.

  “We’ll work out a custody arrangement for Zain.”

  Elan’s firm brow said he would fight. But he was still too honorable to argue.

  That’s exactly why he’d have to go.

  Not only for her peace of mind.

  For his sanity.

  Chapter Three

  Zara’s younger sister drove a growling metal “car” around the primordial volcanic island and up into the verdant hillsides.

  Elan held Zain to his chest, sheltering him from passing cars, lowing cows, and twittering birds inside the familiar weave of seaweed. Milly had requested he leave it at the shore, but he’d refused. It was one thing to expose himself to the surface-dwellers. Elan would not compromise his son in that way.

  This wasn’t what he’d expected.

  Zara sat stiffly in the passenger’s seat. From the corners of her eyes, she stole glimpses of Zain. She was clearly determined not to frighten him. And not to touch Elan.

  This wasn’t what he’d imagined.

  He’d wanted her to race into his arms. He’d wanted her to hold him tightly, shine with the brightness of a hundred suns, smother him with fierce kisses, and sparkle with their rekindled dreams.

  He’d wanted his wife.

  Instead, she was shut up tight. Just like their first meeting. A hard shell without any cracks, cold on the outside, like the dead. She wanted him gone. And she didn’t know of his violent misdeeds. How would she react once she knew?

  Zain whimpered.

  Ah, Elan’s own soul light must be darkening. Plunging into darkness repelled a child as surely as a reprimand. Worse, because Zain couldn’t understand what he had done wrong to cause his parents’ dark feelings.

  Elan controlled his emotions with iron focus. Zain relaxed.

  Soon, Zara would also learn this control. She was a disciplined student and would pick it up immediately. And then, he would be forced out of her life.

&nbs
p; Forever.

  Zain moved and whimpered again.

  Zara glanced at Elan sharply.

  Elan rubbed Zain’s back through the seaweed, shushing and calming him. These dark thoughts hurt everyone. He needed to show Zara his grit. She would fall in love with him again, and then he would stay. They would be a family.

  He swore it.

  “Here’s our house.” Milly brought the car to a gentle rest behind a white-washed house nestled in a hillside. Pots of blue flowers bloomed next to a closed door. “We bought it with the Sea Opal gemstone you gave us — er, Zara — for her, uh, stay.”

  Some warriors might be upset to hear their treasured bride offering had been given away, but Zara had unapologetically declared his jewel would fund Milly’s college education. This advanced “college” training was apparently critical for Milly’s future and Zara’s sacrifice was a sign of her protective spirit. She cared fiercely for her loves.

  Which no longer included him.

  He tightened on the pain before it could affect Zain. “It is a good house?”

  “Pretty good,” Milly confirmed, turning off the engine. “Two bedrooms, close to school, and you can’t argue with the privacy.”

  “Then the jewel was not used for your college education?”

  “Oh, it was. You gave her a huge Sea Opal. We had extra.”

  “You did not keep the extra for your memories?”

  Milly hesitated and glanced at Zara.

  Zara made a flubbing noise. “No. Why? I was glad it was gone.” She exited the car.

  Had he misunderstood? Had Zara rejected the mer from the very beginning? Dark shadows curled around his heart and squeezed doubts like poison into his blood.

  Zara opened the door and helped unbuckle Elan’s seatbelt. She refused to look at him.

  Zain suddenly cried.

  Her face whitened and her expression turned stricken. She took a step back and put the car door between them. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to get so close.”

  This was his error. His out-of-control emotions.

  He forced his fears and pains into the mass of dark matter deep in his chest, took a calming breath, and stepped out of the car, Zain over his shoulder. “It was not you.”

  She didn’t look as though she believed him.

  He brushed her cheek with his knuckles. Whenever they touched, the dark fears plaguing him receded to silence. “He is sensitive. Our adjustment will take time.”

  “I know. I’m just … I know.” Zara pulled back, closed the car door, crossed the dark gravel, and pushed open the thick, brown door. “This is the kitchen. Don’t touch. If you need something, ask.”

  “Teach me.”

  “No point. These appliances are finicky and old.”

  “I desire to learn.”

  Her jaw tightened. “You won’t be here long enough for it to matter.”

  “Teach me for my future, then.”

  “I…” She looked up at him for the briefest moment and then away. “The living room is through here.”

  He took in the smooth rock floors and wood furniture. Unlike his undersea castle, this airy building was highly insecure. Open windows and multiple doors lowered defensibility. And the bedrooms were dangerously spread out. Her sister’s bedroom hid in a small, enclosed loft. On the ground floor, well away from the other rooms, was Zara’s bedroom.

  She paused in front of her doorway. Inside, dusky furniture and quiet paint submerged the space in muted gray. “You may sleep here.”

  “In your room.”

  “I’ll be in Milly’s.”

  He rested a palm on the doorframe and leaned over her. “Running away?”

  Her nostrils flared and her pupils dilated.

  As he’d learned on the beach, even though she refused him, her body remembered their love. If only her body remembered, he would start there. Slowly, he would rebuild her trust until all of her was filled with love.

  Her hot gaze trailed down his arm, across his flexed pectorals, across his bare torso. “There’s no reason to stay.”

  He dropped his voice, pushing and teasing her. “This is your room.”

  Her lips parted. Her tongue slid across her lower lip as if she were remembering how he tasted.

  His cock pulsed hard. He leaned closer, tempting her.

  Suddenly, she blinked and leaned back. “I’m sorry?”

  He wasn’t. Hunger was a look he needed to see in her eyes again. “We were talking about where you will sleep.”

  “Yes. Upstairs. While you sleep here.” She frowned at the seaweed. “Is that Zain’s blanket?”

  He had created it to shelter Zain from view, but their son was a big fan of curling his fingers in the woven threads. “He does enjoy holding the plant.”

  “It’ll dry out if we don’t keep it damp.” She bit her lip. “Put it in the bathroom.”

  Elan placed the seaweed — and a very determined-to-hold-onto-it Zain — in her chipped white tub. Zara added an inch of water to dampen the green fronds. Zain reached for the gushing water and gurgled adorably, splishing and splashing, as though he’d never been in shallows before. His baby fins scooped the liquid.

  She softened. “He looks so natural. Are you sure he’s okay in the air?”

  “Yes.” Elan eased behind her, and when she did not pull away, he slipped his fingers into her lax hand. “He is half human.”

  “When will he be able to shift to feet?”

  “He must practice.”

  Elan slid an arm around her waist and cinched her against him.

  His plan to start with her body began now. Would she allow him this much touch?

  She stiffened and then melted, even settling her hand on his forearm.

  Yes.

  He nestled his chin in the fluffy, dark hair on the crown of her head. Her soft buttocks cheeks pillowed his hardening cock. The attractive dimples in her back were covered by her shirt, but he felt their dips. Her shoulder blades flattened against his chest.

  He curled his fingers around her waist and breathed in her warmth.

  She fit. Her soft pieces into his hard ones. His. She was the reason he had done everything. She was the only one who mattered.

  He teased her sensitive neck with feathery kisses.

  Her soul light flared and then darkened in warning.

  He tried to pull himself back. Reel in his control, release her, and give her the distance her soul light said she wanted.

  Instead of pushing him away, in a soft voice, she asked, “Did they hurt you for wanting to come here today?”

  “No.” He hugged her for asking, for caring. For not — his greatest fear — forgetting him and moving on. “Not for today.”

  Her fingers curled around his.

  He closed his eyes. This. He’d wanted only this.

  Her soul light dipped, and she pulled away. “But you took a year to come to the surface?”

  This time, he did let her go. “I was delayed.”

  “By what?”

  “Many things.”

  Her sharp eyes narrowed.

  His body felt cold from her absence. How strange that he barely noticed the frigid temperatures at the bottom of the ocean, but after holding Zara, a gentle breeze lifted a shivery prickle.

  Her question and hurt gaze edged with accusation.

  She rejected him. She rejected the mer. And her rejection felt like ice needles in his veins.

  Footsteps approached the bathroom doorway.

  He moved swiftly in front of Zara. His hands flexed for his trident; he placed his palm on Zara’s chest to keep her safe.

  “Hi. I found … uh …” Milly trailed off. Concern colored her face, and she looked between him and Zara. “Is something wrong?”

  Zara placed a gentle hand on his arm. Her touch soothed his tension. “You found what?”

  “This shirt.” Milly held up a billowing white covering of short sleeves. Blue and yellow marked the front. She pushed it at him. “If it fits, I can stop by t
he consignment shop for more.”

  He made no move to take the shirt. Milly was not his bride. An honorable warrior touched no other female.

  After a brief hesitation, Zara reached around Elan and took the shirt. “Thank you.”

  Milly frowned. “Sure.”

  He accepted the shirt from Zara and pulled it on. It squeezed his shoulders and flapped an inch above his waist, brushing the hem of his tight orange shorts.

  Zara eyed the gap of skin between his articles of clothing. “A larger size.”

  “Got it.” Milly punched a note into her phone. “And I’m heading to the market. Does Zain need formula?”

  Zara turned to Elan for the answer.

  “Formula?” Elan repeated.

  “Baby formula,” Milly said. “You know, like milk.”

  “What is milk?”

  Milly’s mouth opened and closed. She looked at Zara with consternation.

  Zara’s mouth set in a thin, hard line. Her tone was sharp, judgmental. “How did Zain ever survive?”

  “Easily.” Ridges of irritation crawled up his back. Having her so close in front of him but so far out of reach crushed his patience. “He is well-fed and healthy as you see.”

  She tsked. “Clearly that’s a miracle.”

  “It is no miracle. Young fry are our treasures. Just because our ways are different does not make them wrong.”

  “Yes.” She tapped his chest. “It does.”

  Her accusation dug into his deepest, darkest fears. She couldn’t know, but undercutting Zain’s raising was one of the most painful ways she could hurt him.

  “You would have seen our ways in a different light if you had stayed,” he said stiffly.

  “Since your ‘ways’ involve pulling a newborn from his mother’s breast, that wasn’t an option for me. And it was wrong.”

  “That is only one practice.”

  Her soul light shuddered. “Do you dare to defend it?”

  Behind them, Zain whimpered.

  Zara started forward.

  Zain lifted his arms to Elan and whimpered again, urgent.

  Zara stopped. Pain flashed across her face.

  Elan lifted Zain, soothing the anxious baby. “Shh. Calm.”

  Zain quieted.