Nik gazed up at the sea nymph sitting above him on Storm and ran his tongue across his lips. Merielle’s crimson locks had shifted to reveal most of a glorious full breast, complete with dusky nipple and well … He was just a man after all. The sooner he got her back to the house and into some clothes the sooner he could treat her as he must. Like an enemy -- someone whom he would tolerate for as long as he had to. She was too alluring, distracting, and she was scared stiff, if he was any judge.
He kept his arms looped around her hips and closed his eyes to block out the sight of her bare flesh. Her body trembled as though this was the most terrifying thing in the world, instead of just a ride on an ordinary beast. Nik tried to remove his arms, but she held onto him like a lifeline. Like he would save her. Huh!
“Do not let go, please. I am sure I will topple over.”
“You’ll be fine, madam.”
“Get me down and carry me, sir!”
Nik gritted his teeth. “I can’t carry you up that track. Stop fighting me!”
“There must be another way. I cannot balance up here, and this beast scares me.”
Nik spied a suspicious moistness in her eyes. Oh Goddess, no! Spare me her tears!
“Now don’t go crying,” he said, still trying to distance himself from that luscious breast.
“I am not crying. I will not cry over this horse,” she said, sounding like she was trying to convince herself of that. Her hands clutched his shoulders, her grip almost painful. “Can you not climb up here and keep me steady?”
Nik gazed skywards, praying for strength. But as he prayed to a Goddess, he figured perhaps he was wasting his prayers. Now a God would have been a whole different kettle of fish. A God would have been on Nik’s side.
“Damn it, yes, I can ride up there with you. If I must.”
“You must,” she said.
“You’ll have to let me go first. Take a good grip on his mane.”
Merielle released his shoulders and he guided her hands to the luxuriant silver mane of his horse. Nik vaulted up behind the mermaid, still unable to believe she was real. If anyone saw them, all hell would break loose. Many folk didn’t believe in the existence of the sea nymphs, but in coastal areas believers were more common, especially amongst seafaring families.
Nik reached either side of Merielle and grabbed the reins while she turned her upper body towards him, wrapping her arms tight around his waist. When he urged Storm forward she clung even tighter and a faint cry escaped her lips. Storm danced to the side, spooked by the sound.
“Hush now or we’ll both end up in a heap,” he said, trying to inject a soothing note into his voice. This was no easy task as the last thing he felt was calm with Merielle perched in his lap, her hip against his groin, the curve of her breast pressing his chest. He swallowed hard, appalled at the sensations her proximity stirred in his body. She was a mermaid, damn it, not a human. Good for nothing except killing sailors. He had to remember that -- she was not like him in any way.
Clinging to that thought, he guided Storm up the cliff path, trying to ignore the soft curves of the being who had wrapped her arms around him as if she would never let him go. They gained the top of the cliff and crossed the short distance to his cottage. Nik reined Storm in at the front gate.
“We’ve arrived, Merielle. You may let go.” Her face was still buried in his chest, her breathing shallow and rapid, her hands clutched his shirt tighter than clams. “Merielle?”
She pushed her face away and gazed up at him. “Promise you will not let me fall?”
Nik rolled his eyes skyward again. “Do you think I’m going to drop you on your head after all the effort of bringing you up the cliff?”
She unclenched her hands from his back and he slipped off Storm, careful to keep her supported.
*
Meri slid off the horse into Nikolas’s arms, and he carried her through the door and into his cozy residence. Flames crackled at the end of the room, and a pot emitted aromas that had her stomach grumbling. Before she could make more than a cursory study of her surroundings, Nikolas deposited her in a chair and strode away. She leaned back to see where he went, and the chair shifted, trying to pitch her onto the floor. She grabbed the arms, squealing with fright, but the backward motion halted. A chair that rocked! How miraculous! Meri experimented with a few cautious rocks back and forth, deciding she liked this very much.
“Are you cold?” Nikolas had stalked back into the central room and stood with his hands on his hips, a scowl on his face.
“I am rarely cold, my lord.”
“Hungry? I have a fish and vegetable soup over the fire.”
“I am indeed ravenous, and fish would be delightful.”
If anything, her host’s scowl deepened, but he strode across the room and retrieved bowls from a shelf near the flames, spooning the soup into them. He scooped her up and transferred her to a cushioned chair so that she could eat her food at the table. The delicious aroma of the fish mingled with more foreign scents. Meri used a slender utensil to scoop an orange blob from the broth. She popped it into her mouth and chewed. It was soft and a little sweet and … she didn’t like it at all. Meri shuddered and spat the foul lump back into her bowl.
“What was that?” she said. “It was truly ghastly.” Her eyes met those of Nikolas across the table, who was wolfing down the soup as though it was to be his last meal.
“Your gratitude overwhelms me, madam.” He grabbed a hunk of soft, fluffy whiteness and dipped it into the bowl then stuffed it into his mouth. “It’s not good manners to criticize the meal a host places before you. Even your people must know that.”
Meri picked around in the bowl and popped a piece of fish and a tiny shrimp in her mouth. “We do not eat such fare so how can I know what to do when it is served? The fish and crustacean I can enjoy though, even if it is not straight from the sea.” She gobbled up all the seafood and then lifted the bowl to drink the broth. When she lowered it again, the eyes of her host were upon her. The intensity in them reminded her of the killer whales who chased her in the ocean.
“How is your shoulder?” He had such beautiful eyes when he wasn’t gazing at her as if he wished to kill her.
“It throbs,” Meri said, rubbing the tender flesh. “Do you have unguents that would help?”
Nikolas stood. “Something of the sort.” He moved to the shelves and took down two vessels and a bowl. From one jar he removed gray sticks that he snapped into small pieces and dropped into the bowl. With efficient, practiced movements, he ground the material into a powder and stirred it into a pot of warm water along with a generous dollop of a thick amber liquid. “Drink this,” he said, pushing the mixture towards her.
Meri raised the pot to her lips and sipped carefully. It was sweet but left a bitter aftertaste. She drank it all down and a wonderful lassitude flowed through her body. Her eyes drifted shut but snapped open again as she felt hands on her shoulder.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
“Pull your hair away unless you wish this ointment to get stuck in it.”
She followed his order and heard a sudden intake of breath from her host. He stalked away only to return with a white shirt which he thrust at her. “Cover yourself with that while I tend your shoulder, and then you can wear it.”
Meri draped the shirt over her chest and Nikolas’s hands resumed their gentle application of the sticky ointment. Her shoulder, nay her whole body, warmed under his touch though his attentions were purely medicinal and the pain they produced could only just be borne.
“You’ve wrenched all the muscles around the shoulder joint. It’ll be weeks healing properly, and you’ll be unable to use it for at least the next week.” His fingers left her skin. “You may dress now.”
“I will require help,” she said.
Nikolas sighed and walked around to stand before her. He took the shirt from her and shook it out before dropping it over her head and helping her pull her arms through the sleeves. It was a garment such as sailors often wore, and rough against her skin. She pulled her hair from its folds and settled the cloth around her. “I do not like the feel of it,” she said. “Though loose, it still confines.”
“Be that as it may,” Nikolas said, “I can’t have you lounging about the place bare. It’s not proper.”
“No one is here to see,” she said.
“I am here,” he said, “and I would rather not see so much flesh.” He busied himself putting the medicines away and tidying the kitchen.
Meri thought about his words. Was she so ugly to this man that he did not wish to have her flesh exposed to his gaze? Most men that she had encountered had stared with open admiration at her curves, had seemed not the slightest bit uncomfortable with her nudity. True, she felt a little disquiet at exposing herself to Nikolas in such close confines, but his words caused her to look upon her body with more censure than she would normally have applied.
His words interrupted her thoughts. “You should rest.” His eyes raked her from head to tail. “You may take my bed.”
“Bed? The term is unfamiliar.”
“It is where we humans generally rest. Come,” he said, scooping her into his arms. “I’ll show you.” He strode into another room, her weight seeming hardly to matter to him, so powerful were his shoulders, his back, his legs. Meri closed her eyes at the thought of those muscles wrapped around her. What was amiss with her? Nikolas deposited her in the middle of a soft platform covered with blankets.
“This is a bed. It’s where I sleep. Place your head here.” He patted a small plump cushion and drew a blanket over her tail. “I’ll wake you at dusk.” With that he strode from the room, pulling the door closed behind him.
Meri relaxed against softness she had never experienced before, and eventually she slept.
*
Nik breathed deeply as he closed the bedroom door. A mermaid in his home, his bed. What was he to do with her? One night. He could deal with one night. But what then? She was clearly incapable of fending for herself for at least a week, perhaps longer. His gut clenched at the thought of sending her out into the world. Who knew he still had it in him to care about another being? He didn’t want company, or responsibility. His self-imposed exile suited him well. Another reason the sea nymph grated on his nerves.
Regardless, she was here and would have to be dealt with. He grabbed some wood and headed outside, seating himself on his favorite chair in the sun. His fingers wielded the knife as his mind sorted the latest problem to enter his life. Before long, a form started to appear, a sea creature with a dolphin’s tale and woman’s torso. Merielle. House guest, enemy, vulnerable, injured and foreign. As if against his will, the form continued to take shape. He had no wish to create her image, but it seemed his mind, his fingers, had another agenda. And he supposed that carving the sea nymph might help sort his thoughts about what to do with her. So he carved, sanded, polished, and pondered.
As the sun began to cross the horizon, Nik beheld his creation and marveled at the beauty in its form. Possibly the most stunning work he had yet fashioned. He was not a stranger to the magic of creation that artists employed, but this was the closest he had ever come to the process of creation guiding his hand, of the subconscious emerging from his fingers to shape his work. Unimaginable joy suffused him and beneath that, a kernel of disquiet. What did it mean?
As he ran his fingers over the shapely curves and smooth lines of his mermaid, Nik acknowledged one thing. Merielle’s appearance in his life was no accident. She had been sent to him, or something within him had drawn her. Could she help him find his brother? He couldn’t afford to send her back to the sea, at least not yet. He had to be patient, allow her to heal, and wait for the opportunity she would bring.
*
Despite the softness of the bed beneath her, Meri slept soundly for some hours, but she awoke to a throbbing right shoulder. She sat up in the bed and tossed the blanket from her tail. It still gleamed in the faint light, a sure sign that she was well-hydrated. Nikolas stuck his head into the room and delicious seafood aromas floated in with him.
She took a moment to admire what she could see of him. Golden tanned skin, unruly knotted blond locks that were now free to cascade down his back, piercing eyes that were neither green or blue, wide cheek bones with that wicked scar, and a strong square jaw. Nikolas was an individual of uncommon attractiveness. Where was the woman to share his home? And how did he come to be living in this shack on the cliffs when his whole bearing bespoke power and command. Had he fallen on hard times?
“Hungry?” he asked.
“I am ravenous, Nikolas.”
“Good,” he said, entering the room fully so she could admire the rest of him. His arms reached towards her, snagging her body to his chest and conveying her from the room and back to the kitchen table. A bowl of steaming food lay before her. This time it teemed with pieces of fish, mussels, crabs and prawns, and strands of seaweed entwined the tasty morsels. There were no horrid lumps of orange or brown to be seen.
Meri gazed at him in surprise. “This is not the same as the earlier repast, Nikolas. I do not see those …” She could not remember the word for the nasty things.
“Vegetables,” he said.
“Yes, that is the word I seek.”
“You didn’t like them, so I cooked without them. I can’t promise I’ll always do so, but I can’t see you discard so much of your meal. You need your strength.”
“It will not be your concern after this night.”
“I’ve been giving that some thought.”
Meri’s heart jumped at his words, but she pulled her sudden joy back under control. Wait. “Oh?” Yes, that was calm, controlled, dignified. She must step carefully with this man for no matter what she hoped to gain, it would not help to anger him.
Nikolas frowned, as if expecting a different response. “Yes. I may have been somewhat hasty to suggest tossing you out after a night’s rest.” His gaze burned and under it, she became hot. “Your shoulder will be long healing and you might not survive if I were to return you to the sea. Strangely, I don’t wish to be responsible for your demise.”
“I am hardly defenseless.” Too late, she realized that reminding him of the events earlier when she nearly killed him might not help her case.
“You have defenses, yes, but they won’t help you swim and dive.” He paused as if to judge the effect of his words. “I’d like to offer you refuge until your shoulder is healed.”
“Thank you, but are you certain you wish to do this?”
“No. I’m almost certain I’ll live to regret taking you in, but equally, I can’t abide the thought of you adrift in the sea or falling prey to some hungry killer whale.”
His words made real her situation, the fact that she had taken her first steps on the path away from her family, the ocean, everything she had ever known. The realities of the world Nikolas inhabited might be far more frightening than anything she had yet encountered.
“I’ve upset you.” His gaze trapped hers again, not warm, not welcoming, and not trusting.
Meri shivered. She could not tell Nikolas she had turned her back on the sea. One such as she simply could not do that, at least not in this form. He would ask more questions, and if he found out what she truly planned he would never trust her, never let down his guard. No, best just to accept his hospitality.
“I thank you for extending your protection beyond the morrow, Nikolas.” She returned his gaze, distracted by the turquoise of his eyes. “You are right. I would be vulnerable were I to return to the sea, but I am equally vulnerable in your world. I do not think you realize how much care I will require. And then there is the need for secrecy.”
“I receive few visitors here. As for your care, I think I can manage.”
At his smirk, her heart quickened but Meri wrangled her errant feelings back under control. This man hated her, and the only reason he allowed her in his house was … Why would Nikolas agree to keep her underfoot? He said he could not abide the thought of her alone and vulnerable but that could not be the only reason. His hatred of her people was personal.
“Why are you really helping me, Nikolas?” she asked. “How can you bring yourself to aid one of the mer people?”
A small muscle twitched in his jaw and his shoulders tensed. “I don’t wish to talk about this.”
“Tell me why you hate me.”
Nikolas stood, and his chair fell over backwards. He tangled his hands in the locks of his hair, pulling them as if he wished to cause himself pain. Meri watched, trying to wrap herself in calm, wondering if he would reveal his torment.
“Your people killed my brother,” he said finally.