Romantically Enchanted: A Twisted Fairytale Collection Page 13

  "My apologies." The voice was melodic and sweet, and he groaned at the realization that the woman had remained with him. She held James within her arms, and all that soft, smooth skin rubbed against him as she swam him to shore. His angel. James turned to look at her. The golden hair and perfect, flawless skin he remembered. Dear God, she was—

  His knees hit sand and he received another face full of water. They had washed up onto the beach and she was dragging him from the waves…and having a rather difficult time of it. He should help her, but he couldn't feel half his body, and the half he could feel, he wished he couldn't.

  He reached out his hands to brace against the beach in order to stand, and his raw, burned stump connected with the sand. He sucked in a breath and dropped, even though they were knee-deep in the water. His hand was gone. Somehow, he'd forgotten that otherwise unforgettable detail, as distracted as he was by the pretty face beside him and the fact that every inch of him hurt.

  "You're wounded!" the woman exclaimed in that melodic voice of hers. Did it make him a terrible person to be soothed by her fretting over him?

  "A scratch, really." Why did he want to impress her? It was already clear he was half dead. Why posture to protect his pride? She'd pulled him out of the water and swam them to shore.

  His eyes bulged as his previous assumption before he got a face full of sand had been proven correct. She's not wearing anything.

  James flopped onto his back, determined to have a good look at his savior without putting pressure on his left arm. He immediately determined he'd fallen victim to feverous delusions because, while he'd come to terms that the woman wasn't actually an angel—he hurt way too much to be in heaven—and she definitely was nude, she couldn't be human. She was too perfect, too beautiful, and she'd been too at home in the water. As his gaze dropped lower, and he cursed himself for the lack of gentlemanly control, he stopped breathing. She was impossible. She couldn't exist, unless he was going mad. "You're a…"

  She looked down at herself. Most of her lower half remained hidden in the shallow water, but golden scales of a fish tail extended up her abdomen to stop above her navel, and swelling a little higher on the sides to cover her hips. Her bare nipples were the same color as her scales and hair. Though the lighting was poor, her eyes seemed to be the same shade. With her softly tanned skin, even in the moonlight she appeared to be made of gold. He longed to touch her but clenched the fingers of his remaining hand to tamp down the urge. The tales of mermaids he'd heard from his time at sea made them out to be vicious hunters with a beautiful face but bloodthirsty motives. Would he lose his other hand if he dared?

  The mermaid broke her gaze away from his and stared at the water. "Am I as disappointing to your eyes as I am to those of my people?"

  What? How could a woman so beautiful believe she was anything but? "I don't understand." His statement was true on multiple accounts. Her existence, what had happened to him, and her belief that she was flawed in appearance.

  She sighed and looked at the severed stump of his left wrist. He almost wanted to shove it back into the saltwater to hide the imperfection from her sight. If anyone was disappointing to look upon, that honor belonged to him. He'd be considered an invalid when he returned to London. There were worse things too, but his family name would be in the gossip sheet for months. Something that wouldn't do his sister any good during her first season.

  "I need to take you farther onto shore," she spoke again, breaking his troubling thoughts. "If you'd allow me to touch you again." When she looked at him, no pity lingered there. He was thankful for that.

  He opened and closed his mouth a few times as he struggled for words to such a statement. "Why wouldn't I let you touch me?" As he started to shake his head and became increasingly more aware of the pain in his arm and side, the concept of her hands on his body brought him comfort. Would her touch bring temporary relief? He longed to find out.

  "A moment ago, you flinched and spun out of my grasp as you realized what I am is not what pleases you."

  "Pleases…what? You're the most beautiful woman I have ever laid eyes on. If I pulled away, it was because I couldn't see you from the position I was in and desperately needed to." Apparently, women of the land and sea required reassurances and pretty words. It was no difficult feat, but amusing, nonetheless.

  "Oh." She looked away and toyed with a lock of her hair coyly. The fact he couldn't tell if she'd blushed or not made him curse the lack of sunlight. Would she shimmer and sparkle in daytime? Were her scales rough or smooth to the touch? He jerked back as he realized he'd been leaning in closer to her. Bloody hell, he'd be consumed by her like a moth with no concept of the dangers inherent of flying too close to a flame. Perhaps there was a reason sirens were often depicted as mermaids. Who needed song when they looked like she did?

  "What is your name?" Never had he once believed mermaids were real despite the silly superstitions of his crew, and now that he had one in front of him, he didn't know quite what to say to her. Her hair had thankfully fallen over her breasts, which helped control his desire to look at them. She would turn him into a rakehell yet.

  "Ione." A brilliant smile lit her face, and she caught hold of his hand and laid his palm against her cheek. "My name is Ione."

  Her skin was so soft and warm despite the slight chill of the sea breeze. "Thank you for saving me, Ione. I'm Cap—James. You may call me James." He didn't bother with formalities since she wasn't of his world and would not care as to what his family name and position meant. "Unfortunately, I'm dying I believe. You should not witness such ugliness. Help me out of the tide, and I won't keep you from your destination." He didn't see how he'd survive the night. If he managed to make it back to the manor, he'd surely give into fever and die of illness or infection. No one deserved to witness that if it could be avoided.

  Ione's smile fell, and then, with a determined lifting of her chin, she released his hand and grabbed hold of him under the arms again. Her body shimmered a moment before her scales disappeared and turned to human legs. Vaguely, as she moved and her hair parted, he took note that her nipples darkened to a normal, rosy hue when that happened. Intriguing. He slammed his eyes shut as she stood so he wouldn't be caught staring at the apex of her thighs. But it was too late. She was hairless and not at all hidden from his gaze. What blood he hadn't lost began to rush to his groin.

  He opened his eyes as Ione hefted him up onto shore and collapsed beside him, unabashed by her nudity. "You are not going to die, James. Not on my watch."

  Squeezing his eyes shut again and trying to control that other part of himself before she noticed, he shook his head and nodded toward the North Sea. "You cannot control nature." His single regret during his passing would be failing his sister. Underwood, the venomous imp, would undoubtedly harm her. James wished he'd survive long enough to send word to the docks that his ship was being stolen out from under them. Underwood would forge his signature on the papers and act like all was well, the rapscallion. Regardless of whether or not he was outed by the boy, he didn't want the brat to get what he wanted. Underwood needed to learn respect and, evidently, something civilized people referred to as morality.

  "Are you sure about that?" Ione said so quietly James almost didn't make it out. Then she turned to him, clutching his wet shirt in her hands. He enjoyed the feel of her hands on him, even if in comfort and not more pleasurable reasons. "If I were human like you, what would you do?"

  He felt his eyebrows lift up high and he bit back the obvious answer, but despite his time as a smuggler, he was raised a gentleman. "Pardon my confusion... Are you asking what I'd be doing right now if I weren't dying, or suggesting you'd like to hear how I'd court you?" He gritted his teeth against another wave of pain and laid back against the sand.

  "You won't die," Ione stated as if she knew it with absolute certainty. "Tell me about this…courting?" He looked at her again, and the skin between her eyebrows was wrinkled up as though she were perplexed by the very idea. It wa
s adorable.

  He wished he shared her confidence where his longevity was concerned. "It would be difficult since you don't have a family or house on land to do so properly. By all the rules of my people, us being together alone right now implies we've done things we have not." He didn't want to scare her away with talk of how she'd be ruined, so he tiptoed around it as best he could. "You couldn't reside with me unless we were married. I'd have to obtain a special license and hide you away in my father's country estate to avoid a scandal until we were wed."

  Too bad it was all fantasy. He'd be dead, and she lived in the ocean. What a fine pair they made.

  Ione set that determined chin again and stood, giving him a tantalizing view of her fully naked form. He didn't shut his eyes this time. She was indeed hairless, aside from that on her head and eyebrows. His throat, already raw, went drier than he thought possible. His body continued to react—proof enough he wasn't quite dead yet. And she'd saved him with no reason to do so except kindness. What he wouldn't give to have such a remarkable woman in his bed. To come home to at night or after a long voyage. To love and cherish and provide for until his final days.

  It just wasn't to be.

  "I'm not sure I am completely clear on why marriage is so important to your kind in order to be alone with a woman, but I can work with this." Ione nodded to herself. "However, I need your word that you will never tell another person about my heritage or how you really met me. It's the only way. The safety of my people will always be more important than my own wishes." A sad tone coated her words. She sounded…lonely. Why would someone with such a warm nature and natural radiance about them be lonely?

  Granted, James didn't quite understand what he agreed to by offering his word. Half of him believed he'd have done anything she said at that point just to be near her as long as he could. Besides, when he died, who would he tell? "I swear on my life I will never reveal your secret to another."

  Her smile was radiant. "Stay here."

  He snorted. "I am positive I will not be going anywhere any time soon, love."

  She nodded again and waded back into the waves, sparing him a brief backward glance. When the water reached her waist, she dove forward, a golden fishtail shooting upward, fins splashing as she disappeared below.

  "And there she goes," he told himself as the woman of his dreams swam away. "At least I can die with her in my mind." With that, he laid his head back on the sand and closed his eyes despite the niggling feeling that she'd been a delusion all along.

  CHAPTER 3

  IONE DIDN'T GO FAR. Poseidon rarely ventured on land, and was more tolerant if summoned within his watery kingdom, which, at the moment, consisted of all the oceans, seas, rivers, and lakes on the planet. With Oceanus imprisoned along with the majority of the Titans, the Olympian sea god relished his dominion and not having to share it with many from their pantheon. Nereus, Ione's father, had grown into a hermit of sorts and hadn't been seen in centuries—not even by his daughters—which might have had a factor in the eventuality of her kind to wander off on their own.

  With luck, she approached a sunken ship, broken apart from years of deterioration. Inside, she found a sharp splinter of wood and used it to make a small cut on the back of her forearm, gritting against the momentary pain. As the blood welled and rose into the water around her in a gesture of tribute, she spoke the ancient tongue of her people, summoning the sea god. Moments later, after the cut on her arm had already healed, the ocean floor rumbled ever so slightly, and a man appeared on the broken ship's deck. He didn't have a fin like her; instead, he stood before her in scaled armor made from the skin of crocodiles and gripped his silver trident in one hand. He kept his dark hair short, and never had she seen him with a beard like men above often carved into statues and likenesses of him.

  "Ah, Ione." Poseidon glanced around them, speaking in her mind. "A long way from home today, aren't we? This is the coast of England. What brings you to the North Sea?"

  So that was where she'd ended up. She mentally chided herself for being so caught up with rescuing James that she'd slipped into speaking English with him and hadn't really noticed. "Yes, I… I've decided to make a life for myself like many of my sisters before me. And I have called to you for one final request before I go." Though she'd made her decision on land, vocalizing it made her hesitate. Ione wasn't known for spontaneity, yet she felt a strange impulse to follow her heart on this. She didn't want to go as far as thinking her attraction and connection to James was love at first sight, but something about him called to her in a way nothing ever had. It wasn't only the desire to mate. It was something more. Something she had yet to understand.

  The god blinked rapidly, taken aback, but lowered the trident so the three sharp prongs faced downward. "I'm listening."

  "I rescued a human who was injured and left to drown. I would ask that he be healed and made whole." She quickly tacked on, "And I fully prepare to trade my immortality for humanity as balance." Lest the god believe she was asking favors without sacrifice in return. Giving equated receiving. Unless a god wished to gift or reward, asking came with a steep price.

  Poseidon's dark eyebrows shot upward. "Do you know anything about this human? Maybe he was left to die for a reason. He could have lied about what happened to him in order to deceive you. Males of any species care about one thing when it comes to beautiful females, and humans are the most deceptive species of them all."

  Ione swam back a few paces. She hadn't considered that. However, she'd always had a decent sense for recognizing negative energy. Nothing about James gave her any reason to doubt his decency. If that made her a fool, then so be it. She set out for an adventure and a change, and she would be lying to say she didn't want to mate with him—she also didn't want to drown a man she'd rescued from that very fate when they were done.

  Besides, she couldn't walk among humans seamlessly, as James had pointed out. She had no place to call home on the shore, and no background and no one she knew to call upon for a visit to adapt properly before rushing into anything. She would need James to adjust to life above the waves. And if she didn't like it, she'd run away again. Have a new adventure—even if the thought of leaving him so soon made her heart ache a little.

  "I've made my decision."

  Poseidon sighed. "Wouldn't you rather mate with him and have me erase the memory so you don't have to kill him? Your sisters talk, a lot. You're the only Nereid to have never taken a mate properly. You'll have to eventually, and if that's the thing holding you back—"

  She held up a hand to stop him, irritated at the lecture though she'd expected it. "First of all, I don't have to mate with anyone if I don't want to. I've been fine taking care of my needs by myself." Just because nymphs were sensual creatures that required stimulation to thrive didn't mean they needed anyone specifically to give it to them. Well, that wasn't exactly true. Mortal nymphs often did need a partner. Immortal ones, those born into the immortality that was, could handle their own needs without much issue.

  "Spare me from headstrong females." The god rolled his eyes heavenward. "Where is this human? Take me to him."

  Ione swam back in the direction of the shore and breached the surface, relieved to spot James right where she'd left him. Her joy turned to panic when she realized he wasn't moving. Poseidon appeared on the beach beside the human and nudged him with the bottom of his trident.

  "Is he alive?" Ione asked as she shifted her tail into legs and exited the sea. The magic worked for a few hours at most, which was why she needed Poseidon's help if she wanted to be on land permanently. "He was all right when I left him, though in a lot of pain." She worried her bottom lip at the prospect that she misread his state and he might have perished in the time she'd been away.

  The sea god stroked his chin while regarding James. "He's lost a lot of blood from his wound, though whoever did it stopped the bleeding soon after by burning the flesh over it like they hadn't actually wanted him to die. How very peculiar." He glanced at her. "You
say he was left to drown? Tossed overboard, perhaps?"

  She cringed. That sounded painful. Despite her enhanced healing, she'd never been wounded more than a cut or scrape here or there. So she didn't have a basis for the level of agony he was experiencing. She wanted to find who had done it to him and make them hurt instead. "I don't know. Maybe he jumped in to escape." Ione could barely make out the rise and fall of his chest to prove he was still breathing. "Is he…salvageable?"

  Poseidon made a sound in the back of his throat and shrugged. "Perhaps. But I would like to assess this human before I grant him any gifts." He met her gaze. "Or leave you with him. Despite what you believe is best, you've never spent time with humans."

  With that, he tapped the base of his trident on the sand three times and turned to regard the ocean. A few moments later, Triton appeared, waist deep in water, curling his lip at James' unconscious form. "What is that?"

  "Ione's pet human," Poseidon said in a bored tone. "Come ashore and assess him, please."

  With a dramatic exhalation, the blond god shifted his fins to feet and stomped onto shore with human legs, clothing himself with his magic in crocodile armor like Poseidon's. Triton kept his hair long, and the color was similar to her own. She always felt her coloring resembled one of his daughters rather than Nereus'. The Nereids were so vibrant with their hair and scales in varied greens, blues, violets and more, where her golds and yellows made her appear washed out and pale in comparison. She'd been teased mercilessly about it as a young girl. Even those of her sisters who lived without tails on the shores of islands with little or no inhabitants were more beautiful.

  Ione had reached her limit on feeling inferior and alone. She wanted more. James could be the catalyst to a new life. She didn't have to stay with him if he turned out to be as bad as Poseidon feared. If he could but help her start a human life, that would be enough. For a time.