Saved by the Sea Lord (Lords of Atlantis Book 9) Page 5

  “So you need a woman who’s smart, cautious, and brave as well as being a great speaker, friendly, organized, and a total diplomat.”

  How amusing. She described herself.

  And he could not argue. The more he watched her, the more capability she showed. She would transition well to the undersea world. Even to the deadly circumstances of the All-Cities Gyre.

  A wave of compulsion welled beneath him, up swelling his need to take her. Claim her. Embark on a journey with only one destination.

  But he would never fulfill his role as her husband.

  She deserved a better warrior than Lotar.

  Deserved…but it was very hard to stop the selfish desires from taking hold. He curled his fingers around the soft weave of the cream dining cloth.

  “I have a stack of bride profiles back at the office. Or you can look around here.” Hazel indicated the other diners. “Of course it would be awkward if you resonated with someone like Erin or Pia, but you’re the merman, so you can see soul lights and know if I’m—if someone is your mate.”

  She should know that he was her soul mate. Even a human could sense that much.

  “Erin or Pia?” he queried.

  “Erin’s married.”

  Erin lifted her phone with a smile.

  “And Pia’s here with her boyfriend.” Hazel waved at the direction Pia had gone with the other male.

  Wait.

  “He is not her soul mate,” Lotar said.

  Hazel’s smile faltered. “Well, it’s a newer relationship, so you can’t say for sure.”

  “He does not make her soul shine.”

  “But maybe they have to grow into it. You know.”

  “No.”

  Hazel bit her lip. “But sometimes people hate each other and become lovers, or they start out fighting and end up the greatest love story of all time.”

  “Then they fight a battle inside. Against their own true heart or clouded mind. Not each other.”

  “Oh, I think they fight each other…”

  “Souls must resonate. You may fight resonance, ignore it, run from it, but if you pursue a mate whose soul does not resonate with yours, you cannot ever truly unite your bodies or produce young fry.”

  “Ah.” She lifted a finger. “That’s a mer thing. Humans can have sex with anybody.”

  Oh.

  Yes. He had forgotten. “Why?”

  Hazel shrugged. “We don’t need resonance, I guess. People fall in and out of crappy relationships every day. We don’t have your clarity, so things get muddied up real quick.”

  How horrifying.

  The others chuckled gently about bad dates, grudges changing over to passion, and ugly divorces. Owen frowned, lost in thought, and poked a green leaf around his plate.

  Hazel strangely accepted this tragedy. “You always start out hoping for the best.”

  “But you must know.” He pressed his palm against the thick bulletproof vest. “And if you force this union, your souls will only vibrate more erratically. Disharmony will fill your heart and tear you apart.”

  Yoshi chimed in. “That happened to more than a few of my buddies. Where were you ten years ago? You could have saved them a killing in divorce fees.”

  The others laughed.

  Pia sat with a small huff, frowned at the fries, and straightened. “Did someone get me more fries?”

  Everyone looked at Owen.

  “I had too many,” Owen said.

  “Aw.” She brightened and dusted the fries with seasonings, then ate one. “That’s so sweet. You shouldn’t have.”

  His soul glowed as well.

  “Hey, Pia.” Yoshi gestured at Lotar. “This guy can see if people are soul mates. Guess what he said about your boyfriend?”

  Her soul dimmed. She laughed with a pained expression and held up her hand without looking at Lotar. “I don’t want to know.”

  She did not want to know?

  “I do not see soul mates,” Lotar corrected them. “I only see if another person dims your light.”

  “No thanks.” She cheerfully scooted the fry through the seasonings. “I just skipped an audition I’ve been in training for over two years, so let’s pretend everything is fine.”

  After a brief pause, the others quickly agreed.

  “Yeah, that’s right,” Hazel comforted her. “Mermen don’t know everything.”

  “Exactly.” Pia chomped her fries.

  But this was a mistake.

  The longer Pia stayed with a male who dimmed her light, the further she would stray from her true destiny. Two years would stretch into five years. Longer. All because she tied herself to a male who dimmed her soul. And if she never left? She would shrink in, darker and smaller, until her light was extinguished.

  “You know…” Hazel drummed her fingers on the table. “Maybe I could start a merman dating assistance program.”

  “That’s what you already do.” Erin exchanged a small card with her server. The others opened their bags and handed over cards or papers. “You introduce mermen to dates.”

  “No, no. Couples would hire a merman to say whether their soul lights resonate. ‘Is this guy your soul mate, or are you wasting your time?’ We could hire ourselves out for first dates, speed dates, bars, clubs. Marriage counselors. So many things.” Hazel touched Lotar’s hand.

  Fire raced up his arm, and his heart thudded hard.

  “Did Erin’s soul get bright or dim when she called her husband?” Hazel asked, not seeming to notice.

  He ground out the word. “Bright.”

  Erin beamed. “I could have told you that.”

  “How about me?” Yoshi threw his arm around Charisma, who was sipping her water. “Do I make her soul shine?”

  Charisma eyed him. Their souls remained steady, neither dimming nor brightening.

  Lotar shook his head.

  Charisma smiled into her glass.

  Yoshi straightened. “I’d say it’s accurate. Hazel, call my firm. If you saved people from expensive divorces, you could print money.”

  “Oh, I know. How many bad dates have we been on?” Hazel removed her hand from his, letting him relax. She shuddered and signed the slip of paper from her server. “So many.”

  “So many,” Charisma agreed, and Pia echoed her.

  “Too bad you’ve got to go on the All-Cities Gyre,” Hazel told him. “We’ll just have to stumble around until the next merman gets a visa.”

  Heat flushed into his pores. The human food he’d consumed churned.

  Lotar had been selfish.

  So very, very selfish.

  Hazel was seeking her soul mate among humans. She had made mistakes like Pia, and she had allowed her soul to be darkened.

  And after he left her, she would make such mistakes again.

  Because he was her soul mate.

  A dim-souled male must not approach Hazel. Touch her hand as she’d touched his. Brush her hair back from her rounded cheek, or kiss…

  His belly clenched.

  No.

  Another male would not brighten her soul.

  Another male might damage her, as Pia’s boyfriend did. And the longer Hazel dimmed herself and made herself small, the harder it would be for her to grow fearless again and unconquerable.

  And she must be that. Because only when she shone as brightly as a star could she claim her true powers.

  She would be a phenomenal mer queen.

  And leaving her behind was far more dangerous.

  “Well.” Hazel pushed back her chair, stood, and stretched. “Should we get you to a hotel? It’s been a long day. I’ll look over the profiles again and you could at least meet a couple brides.”

  Lotar stood as well. “No.”

  “Hey, come on. You might meet the bride of your dreams.”

  “I have.”

  Hazel blinked. “You’ve met a smart, brave, organized, great speaker, total diplomat bride?”

  He nodded.

  “Who’s also your so
ul mate?”

  “Yes.”

  She blinked again, lashes fluttering like she wanted to look around to see who he meant when the answer could not be more obvious.

  And then she understood.

  Her chest flared. Bright. A star within a sun. Her soul reacted to his, their resonance building as their souls entwined. “You think…? A great speaker? Is…right now?”

  He pulled her into his arms.

  This was right. It was responsible.

  She might hate him someday.

  But he did this for her.

  Hazel rested her hands against his thick vest. “But…me?”

  “You.”

  Six

  What?

  What, what, what, what?

  Lotar’s fierce gaze scorched her. His hard body was unyielding, like hugging a plank, and the arm that curled around her cinched tight. He had stalked her, studied her, hunted her. And now he pounced.

  He thought she was smart.

  And brave.

  And organized, and cautious, and a good speaker, and…

  Yes. He really did.

  He…did.

  A gush of heat flooded her body.

  This total warrior who had so arrogantly assured her he would never bring a bride on the All-Cities Gyre because she couldn’t handle the dangers was now equally confident that Hazel could.

  He thought she could do this.

  Dannika thought she could do this. Her friends thought she could do this.

  The only one who wasn’t sure was Hazel.

  But with the right partner, maybe she could accomplish anything.

  Lotar thought so.

  And with every cell, she wanted to straddle his waist and say, Yes. Absolutely. Right now.

  His lips swooped toward hers.

  A first kiss—

  “What?” her friends cried. “Hold up. Wait, what?”

  He tensed, arrested, and his gaze flicked over her shoulder, evaluating the danger.

  Her first kiss…

  Hazel licked her untouched lips, eased onto her heels, and faced her friends. Lotar released her much too easily. “Okay, I know it’s sudden, but that’s how it is for mermen.”

  “Lotar.” Yoshi crossed his arms. “I must grill the two of you like you’re asking my daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Erin snorted. “You don’t have a daughter.”

  “Someday I might, and I have to practice.” Yoshi pointed at Hazel. “You met him today?”

  “Yep.”

  “And is he your soul mate?”

  “We’re vibing.”

  “Vibing, vibing…” Yoshi pulled out his novelty keychain, a small black eight ball, and shook it. “Is ‘vibing’ good enough? … ‘All signs point to yes.’ Well, there’s nothing I can do, guys. The fates have spoken. So watch out for crazy underwater homeowners and loose dogs. Because, you know. Postman.”

  Oh, God.

  The All-Cities Gyre.

  But Lotar pulled her to his side and looked down at her. She could almost hear him. Do not dim your soul light. They would figure out her fear of ruining the All-Cities Gyre. His fear of taking a bride into the dangerous blue.

  Somehow.

  But how?

  The dinner broke up with more congratulations and requests for postcards—impossible since the spots she’d surface were isolated islands—and Hazel called up another rideshare. Her thoughts pinwheeled.

  Was this happening? Was she crazy?

  The rideshare dropped them at the familiar steps of her apartment building. She input the security code and led Lotar into the narrow entrance. This building creaked with a stuffy smell, but it had AC, and the prewar tile had a nice old-style charm.

  She got in the clattering elevator.

  Oh.

  They weren’t supposed to be here.

  “Ah, crap.” She held out her hand to stop the doors, but they closed and the elevator ascended. “We’re supposed to go to your hotel.”

  He studied her. The elevator was suddenly way too small for the two of them, and she pressed her back against the metal wall. His soft voice tickled her ear like the first nibble of a kiss. “Is it a problem?”

  “It’s autopilot. I’m used to bringing friends back to my place. It’s not a great place, but for somebody looking to crash for a night, it’s okay. The bed’s kind of small.” Especially considering his height and delicious, looming presence. “It might not be what you’re used to.”

  He followed her out of the elevator and down the hall. She unlocked the triple locks and pushed open the door.

  The small studio got great reflected light for its position in the middle of the building, with a neat terrace she was going to grow her own urban garden on someday, a dusting of twinkle lights she’d someday use to make a wall feature, and bunches of succulents atop her freecycle shelves. It wasn’t much, but she was proud of it, and it was always neat because…

  Her pothos, Phil, had tumbled off his shelf, and dirt sprayed across the floor. The bed looked like someone had thrown a fit in it, and a shredded cereal box cluttered her counter. The smell of sour milk hit her nose.

  “Oh God.”

  She dropped the bag of pepper-sprayed clothes, relocked the door behind them, then hurriedly scooped Phil back into his container—cracked, and she’d liked that thrift store find, what a pity—and put him on the counter while she dumped the half-filled bowl of soured cereal milk.

  “Sorry about the mess. The guy who stayed last night was supposed to be chill. My brother and his girlfriend both vouched for him, but it turns out he was a jerk who wanted me to be his hotel.”

  He’d tried to take her bed and make her sleep on the guest futon, but she’d shut that right down. In the morning, his attitude had gotten worse. And he’d slammed the door when they were leaving, which must have knocked her pothos off the shelf.

  Poor Phil.

  And he’d had the gall to complain to her brother and post on her class’s Facebook group. She’d gotten so mad posting what really happened that she’d almost missed her stop.

  But whatever. “The bed’s a little short for you. I’m guessing you normally sleep in a long. Right?”

  Lotar peered out her window as though securing all exits, then prowled back to her. “No.”

  “Really? Huh.”

  “I have never slept in a human bed.”

  A wave of awareness washed over her. “Never?”

  He focused on her with sweet intensity. A single, efficient shake of his head sent her heart throbbing.

  Pulsing into her body.

  Because he was a warrior who’d found his bride.

  She swallowed and slowly stood. “So…soul mates. You think maybe I could be yours?”

  “No. I know.” He looked down on her. “You are.”

  Dominant intensity crackled off his ripped body. He stood so large in the enclosed space, and she wanted to kiss his neck, unbutton the shirt, find the muscle she’d briefly seen in the customs room, and lick.

  But she had to tell him…

  Her nose tickled.

  The pepper spray, right.

  “We should…” Her throat closed. She coughed and cleared it. “You should get a shower.”

  “Shower?”

  “Yeah, this way.” She led him into the tiny bathroom, navigated around the toilet, and pulled open the door. She barely fit her knees around the toilet, but that meant they’d fit an entire three-quarters shower inside. For her, it was luxurious. She twisted the dials and aimed the special upgraded rain showerhead she’d bought. “Here’s hot and here’s cold.”

  Oh, if he’d never slept in a bed before, had he never used a shower either? She stepped back. “You take off your clothes, and…”

  He stood right behind her. For being so large, he was impressively silent. His clothes were piled outside the door.

  He was fully nude.

  And those tattoos, like his muscles, went all the way down.

  Long gray slashes a
cross his abdomen, thighs, calves. Cock. The bulge in his shorts hadn’t been her imagination. He was impressively sized, girthy, something to really get her hands around—and currently relaxed. But the longer she stared as the shower pattered and gentle steam fogged the small mirror, his cock lengthened and hardened, as though summoned by her attention.

  An answering tingle filled her body.

  She’d been excited about a man before, but this felt different. Instead of being swept up in a hazy night of passion, she felt clear-eyed, in control.

  And that was kind of scary in itself.

  It was much easier to get swept away, honestly.

  She unbuttoned her blouse, half-heartedly folded it, and placed it on the toilet lid. The rest of her clothes went the same way. She stood nude before him.

  His gaze traveled down her body, crown to toes, and back up again.

  And what did he see? The roots she needed to dye again, as soon as she decided whether her next color was going to be mocha latte or mahogany. The old manicure that needed filing and fills. Her not-perky, asymmetrical, side-set breasts, her elephant-skin elbows that absorbed moisturizer like a sponge, her knobby knees scarred with years of diving for softballs in uneven fields, climbing for badminton birdies in rough trees, and unsuccessfully trying to teach herself how to inline skate. The extra five pounds on her belly. The extra fifteen on her butt.

  He saw it all without judgment. This was who she was. Totally open, totally revealed. His gaze lifted to her eyes. The dark pupils pulled her in. The iridescent gray threads had overwhelmed what she now saw were ordinary light blue irises.

  Her mom had blue eyes, which meant she had half the alleles and they’d have a fifty-fifty chance of having a baby with blue eyes.

  “Ah.” She cleared her throat and backed to the closed shower door. “So let’s wash off the pepper spray and, uh, everything else.”

  She opened the door for him to enter, and he did so.

  “The soap’s there.” She pointed at the bar. “Lather and rinse. Um, you’re going to smell like vanilla and cardamom. I hope you don’t mind.”

  He swept the soap over his skin, efficient and functional, and handed the bar to her. She eased into the shower, closing the door behind her, and edged around his body to get under the water. He eased out of her way, effortlessly moving without their skin even touching. She washed her hair for good measure. He watched her intently, a solid presence taking up most of her shower, but he didn’t attack.