Katrina stared at the design on the computer screen. She loved her job. Loved setting her artistry loose to create something original. It was meticulous work, but once the project was done, she experienced a sense of accomplishment and satisfaction nothing else could touch.
At the moment all she could think about was Drew. He’d been subdued the night before, visibly tired, and it had been her fault. She’d behaved thoughtlessly.
In the days since they’d met, the damn preternatural side-effects had tormented him from the beginning. Why wasn’t it doing the same to her? Was there something wrong with her?
Cheryl swung into her cubby and parked her rear on the counter next to Katrina. “Are you about finished? I’m starving.”
“Yes.” She saved her work and closed out the program. She needed a distraction and some advice. But how could she ask questions without revealing too many secrets? She slid open the bottom drawer of her desk and pulled out her purse.
They wandered down the street to a down town deli and ordered a Reuben sandwich and chips to share, and a drink for each of them. They found a table outside the restaurant, even though the day was a little crisp, and spent a short while people-watching while they ate.
“How are things with Howard?” Katrina asked. She crumpled her napkin and stuffed it into the empty bag their lunch came in.
Cheryl grinned. “He’s great. We’re great.”
“Good. I’m glad.” Katrina was relieved Drew’s gift left no lingering affect to disrupt the normal development of their relationship.
“How are things going with Mr. Sexy Voice?”
“He’s more than that, Cheryl.”
Cheryl’s smile dimmed. “So it’s getting serious quick?”
“No. Yes. It’s a little difficult to explain.” Katrina remained silent for a moment. “I met his parents.”
“Whoa! Really?” She leaned forward and propped her elbows on the table, her expression of surprise saying already?’
Katrina smiled. “They’re both really unique.”
“How did you happen to meet them?”
“I told you about the weird vibe I got from the doctor who’s going to do my surgery.”
“Yeah.” Cheryl raised a brow, concern in her expression.
“Drew took me to their house so I could talk to his father about the guy. He’s a doctor, too.”
“What did he say?”
“What I already knew. If I didn’t trust the guy, I shouldn’t allow him to do the surgery. He’s checking into other surgeons, but he won’t find any. I’ve looked for a long time. I thought Dr. Turner was going to do my surgery. I like him, he seems very caring, and we’ve built a rapport. Somehow I must have missed that very important piece of information during our last meeting, or misunderstood.” Tears suddenly threatened and she blinked rapidly to stave them off. “I should have taken you up on your offer to go with me to the appointments.” Her anxiety level rose. “The surgery has been scheduled for a week from today.”
“That’s a good thing, isn’t it? You can get it behind you. This other doctor, what about him creeps you out?”
“It was the way he looked at me, touched me, that made me uneasy.”
“Was it an attraction thing?” Cheryl leaned forward, her demeanor protectively aggressive. “He didn’t make a pass, did he?
“No. He couldn’t do that with Dr. Turner watching. It was more subtle. There was something avid in his expression, and the way he tucked my hair behind my ear…” She shivered. “Then he was pushy about wanting to do more scans.”
“Maybe he was attracted to you. Guys are guys. But he can’t date you as long as you’re his patient.”
“I’m not interested in dating him—ever.” Since she’d met Drew she hadn’t any interest in any other man. But as controlled and controlling as Dr. Powell seemed during the consultation, she could only imagine how much more he might be in his personal life.
Cheryl rested her fingers on Katrina’s arm in a soothing gesture. “You’re all worked up today. Did something happen between you and Drew?”
She’d never had a friend as close as Cheryl. Her friend shared everything with her, while Katrina told her only the information that wasn’t affected by her being a Mermaid. She longed to have a friend she could trust with the supernatural stuff too. Could she trust Cheryl with all her secrets?
“We didn’t have a fight. But trying to build a relationship with someone like me is more work than with a normal woman, as he’s already discovering. I’m afraid he’ll get tired of everything being such a struggle.”
“If he does, he doesn’t deserve you, Katrina.”
“If I don’t do everything I can to make it easier for him, I don’t deserve him, either.”
“If you’re talking about sex, guys don’t need easy. They need to earn the right to be with us. We’re not just playthings or sperm depositories.”
Katrina smiled at Cheryl’s fierce expression. “Drew doesn’t treat me like that.” She’d break his neck if he did. “Besides, he wouldn’t have taken me to see his father if he felt that way about me. He understands I’m not going to jump into bed with him right away.”
“He has this strong sexual vibe. I was worried that you’d given in to it and he was being a dick.”
Katrina laughed. “No, he’s not being a dick. But physically we’re so attracted to each other, the world could catch fire and we wouldn’t even notice. It’s almost too much to resist.”
“But?” Cheryl encouraged.
“What if it burns itself out for one of us and not the other?”
Cheryl remained silent for a moment. “That’s the question we all ask ourselves, Katrina. He seems like a nice guy. A little more elemental than I like in my men, but you have that kind of vibe too.”
Katrina leaned forward. “What do you mean?”
“You have this…” Cheryl tilted her head. “It’s hard to describe. You’re like one of those Japanese geishas, all cool waters, grace, and control, with secret passions beneath the mask. And he’s all in-your-face sensuality, sex, and fire. It kind of makes sense you’re drawn to each other. They say opposites attract.”
Katrina stared at her. Cheryl might act like the fashionista party girl, but she had depths of her own, and there was nothing wrong with her instincts about people. She’d proven it to Katrina more than once since they’d become friends.
Cheryl smiled. “You won’t ever know if you suit each other unless you give it a shot. And what’s that quote? ‘ ’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.’”
“I’m not saying you should rush home, invite him over, and jump his bones for a night of wild monkey sex, but when you’ve finally made up your mind to trust him…” Cheryl shrugged.
Katrina sat silent a moment. “What does he sound like when he speaks?”
Cheryl frowned and looked away for a moment. She swallowed. “His voice is deep, but not deep deep, just manly deep, if you can imagine that. And when he sings it’s a little raspy, and sends chills down your body.”
Katrina ran a hand over her brow. She told herself she didn’t feel jealous of the women who were able to enjoy his voice. He wasn’t physically being unfaithful, and she had no right to feel he was, but the sharp twinge of hurt and frustration set her teeth on edge.
She was going to have to deal with this if they became a real couple. He was a Siren. It was in his nature to seduce. It was an unavoidable aspect of how he made his living. And it could be worse. He could have chosen to be a male stripper.
“So you’re going to have the surgery even though you’re not crazy about the guy who’s doing it,” Cheryl said, distracting her from the thoughts circling endlessly through her head.
“I guess so.”
“There will be a nurse and an anesthesiologist in the operating room with him. So he can’t do anything weird during the surgery. You can ask for the other doctor to be present when you have to go back.”
“You’re right.” But the vise-like anxiety clamped around her chest all day remained. She’d been poised to receive a text from Drew canceling their dinner plans. Surely he wouldn’t stand her up without texting her. She checked her phone, though she hadn’t felt it vibrate and, seeing no new messages, stuck it back in her pocket.
“I’ve invited Drew to dinner tonight. What do you think I should fix?”
“Those divine Greek kabobs you make and the flat bread and salad.”
Katrina laughed. “I’ll make extra so I can bring you some for lunch tomorrow.”
Cheryl grinned. “Genius idea. Extra tzatziki sauce.”
When they stood to get back to work, Katrina touched her arm. “Will you come to the hospital with me for the surgery?”
“Of course I will.”
“Thanks, Cheryl.” She wanted to ask Drew to come, too. What was it he’d said last night? They needed to find their rhythm. She was going to control her feelings and rein in her libido. Maybe then they’d be able to slip into the right rhythm.
Graham put the images of Katrina’s skull up on the computer. He found her condition one of the most fascinating he’d ever seen. The extra sinus didn’t seem attached to any part of the normal system that ran above the eyes and below. It was completely self-contained, positioned directly in alignment with her frontal lobe.
She’d said she rarely had headaches, and that she only occasionally experienced sinus issues.
Then what purpose could the damn thing serve? If only she’d allow him to take more scans before the surgery. Damn it!
He dragged her personal information from the file, which included a copy of her driver’s license. The photo didn’t do her justice. She was much more than the dismal picture could capture. He didn’t know why he felt that way, why he was certain of it. He sensed there was more behind her wall of shy reserve.
There was something about the way she smelled which attracted him. How odd was it that her scent would capture his attention. Most women used perfume, and he enjoyed certain fragrances, but he’d never been able to pinpoint what scent Katrina wore. It smelled natural and light, barely there at times, then stronger at others. It was somehow familiar to him, but attempting to attach the scent to a specific memory had defeated him.
He’d ask her next time they met. Maybe once he knew what it was, he’d be able to put aside this nagging feeling of something he’d forgotten but needed to remember.
Restless, he got to his feet to pace. Why couldn’t he get this woman out of his head? He wanted to spend time with her, to learn why she looked so wary whenever he got too close. What was it about him that put her on edge? He knew he came across as arrogant and pushy sometimes, but he could be charming too. He hadn’t had the opportunity to be charming with her, but he would.
He needed to go home and put this out of his mind for a while. He tucked the pages back in the file, lingering for a moment on the home address Katrina had provided.
He couldn’t go over to her apartment, but he could drive by and maybe catch a glimpse of her.
What was he thinking? He wasn’t desperate for a woman, and he wasn’t a stalker. He had to get this obsession under control.
Drew grasped the handles of the thermal bag his mother had insisted he take. Rehearsal had gone well, and he was free for the rest of the evening. After finding out he had dinner plans with Katrina, Celeste had called him to come by and pick up dessert, then pushed the wine on him.
He wasn’t even sure Katrina drank wine. Last night at the club she’d had a soft drink, and the night before she’d barely touched her champagne.
He keyed in the security code, and walked through the lobby to the elevators. On the way up he practiced the breathing techniques his father had taught him and visualized closing the mental door to block Katrina’s feelings.
After he got out of the elevator, a little more than halfway down the hall to her apartment, he slowed, expecting to feel the pressure against his chest as he had the night before. Nothing! She was either late getting home, or he had finally gotten a handle on this. He sighed with relief, allowed his shoulders to relax, and moved on to her door.
He pushed the doorbell, and after only a moment’s wait it swung open.
“Hello.” A quick smile lit her face.
He no longer felt her emotions, but he hardened immediately anyway. “Hey.” He advanced into the room when she stepped back. “I brought dessert and wine.” Though his hands were full, the need to kiss her swept over him. He handed her the dessert container instead.
“Thank you. The only thing I have that qualifies as dessert is rocky road ice cream. The only bottle of wine I have is one the girls at the office bought me for my birthday. We’re having Greek kabobs, made with beef instead of the traditional lamb, orzo, flat bread, and salad.”
A bar separated the kitchen from the living room. It was there she had laid out her pans, bowls and ingredients. She slipped the yoke of an apron around her neck, wrapped the ties around her slender waist, and then tied them in front, covering her leggings and a lightweight, thigh-length sweater.
“You really can cook.” He flashed her a delighted smile.
“You might want to wait until it’s done and you taste it before coming to that conclusion,” she teased as she pushed up her sleeves.
He chuckled. It was a relief not to be bombarded by her emotions and fighting his own. For the first time in days he felt like himself. “Since we’re having red meat, I can open the red and pour you a glass to sip while you cook.”
“That sounds nice.” She retrieved a corkscrew from a drawer and handed it to him, then set two wine glasses on the counter.
“Do you like cucumbers?” she asked. “I was going to add them to the salad.”
“I haven’t met a vegetable I didn’t like,” Drew answered. He fitted the corkscrew into place and popped free the cork.
“Me, either. But I thought most men were all about meat.”
“I haven’t met a steak I didn’t like, either.” He poured them both a glass of wine and set hers close at hand.
He pulled up one of the two bar stools. “Can I do something to help?”
She was busy slicing a cucumber on a chopping board and didn’t realize he’d spoken. He took the opportunity to observe her.
This was the woman he would care for and desire for the rest of his life. Yes, there were preternatural forces at work, but he had chosen her that first night at the club, when he’d tried to stop her from leaving. He’d looked for her for days. As choices went, he couldn’t have done better.
She sliced two tomatoes then, lifted the cutting board to slide the vegetables into a freshly torn lettuce and spinach blend. She grated carrots, dropped in some pitted Kalamata olives, tossed the salad with a spoon and fork, then added crumbled feta cheese. She expertly drizzled a cooked dressing over the top and stored the salad in the refrigerator.
When she moved to the meat marinating in a glass dish she looked up.
“Does being deaf really intensify your other senses?” he asked.
“I know I’m a little more sensitive to smells than some of my hearing friends. But I can’t tell if it’s because I’m deaf or my Mer qualities have something to do with it. If being deaf does cause the difference, it may be because without sound to distract me I concentrate more on scent, taste, and vision to maneuver through life.”
That made sense. “Do you need any help?”
“No, thanks.” She started slipping cubes of meat onto wooden skewers between cherry tomatoes, pearl onions, zucchini, and green peppers.
“You do realize you’re fixing enough for an army.”
“Yes. I promised Cheryl I’d bring her some for lunch tomorrow.”
“She’s a close friend?”
“Yes, closer than any other friend I’ve ever had. She’s sensed some things about us both, but doesn’t realize it goes more deeply than she understands. She says we’re both elemental.”
“Elemental?”
“Earth, Air, Fire, Water. It seems I’m more water and you’re more fire.”
“Well, she’s got part of it right.” There was certainly enough sexual fire between them.
“You seem more relaxed today.”
As opposed to last night when he’d been exhausted from the throes of sexual deprivation and emotional overload? “I am. I hung out with my father for a while this morning, took a nap, and practiced with the band. And now I’m eating dinner with you. We could go for a walk on the beach afterward since it’s my night off.” Until he learned more about what they had in common, he chose the one thing he knew they shared.
“That sounds lovely.” She placed the skewers on a rectangular cookie sheet, checked the oven, and slid the pan in. She poured orzo into a boiling pot of liquid, took out a lemon and began grating the peel with a file-like grater, releasing the tart scent.
“What’s in the pot?” he asked.
“Chicken stock, onions, garlic, a few spices, and I’m going to sprinkle in the lemon peel while it cooks.
“You really do cook.” There was an intimacy to sharing this process with her he’d never recognized before. He could envision them spending moments like this every night while they shared their day and unwound.
She laughed. “It’s something I can excel at. But I can’t grill. I don’t have a deck or balcony to grill on.”
“I do. Any time you want to grill, you can come over to my apartment and we’ll do it together.”
Her look settled on his face in a way that shot blood south and made his temperature rise. He shifted his focus to food and introduced a conversation about what they both liked to eat. Her favorite was chicken, while his was steak.
“We’d have both missed out on our favorites if we’d stayed offshore.”
Katrina periodically checked the kabobs, drizzling the marinade over them while they cooked.
He was learning how to wait until her attention could be directed at him so they could communicate.
“Will you teach me how to sign?” he asked.
“What is it you want to learn to say?” She leaned back against the counter and sipped her wine.
“All the important things.”
“So you can learn how to pick up deaf chicks like me?” Katrina laughed.
Drew cocked a brow. “Your place or mine?”
She shook her head.
“Believe it or not, I’ve never used any kind of line to pick up a lady.” And more times than not he hadn’t had to use his Siren wiles either.
She studied him for a moment. “I believe that. All you have to do is smile.”
He did just that, and laughed when she blushed and then shifted her attention to the counter timer she’d set. She removed the kabobs from the stove and turned off the pasta.
“I didn’t have time to fix fresh flat bread, but I bought some from a bakery close by. I’ll get the tzatziki sauce and the salad while you pour us more wine.”
She placed the bread, salad, and sauce on the table and removed her apron. Then they served themselves from the stove. Because he just had to touch her, Drew purposely brushed his hand against the small of her back while she spooned the rice-like pasta onto his plate. Though she never looked up, her scent rose to blend with the spices she’d used in the food and she shifted closer.
They sat at her small, round table. She asked about each member of his band.
“Simon is the old man of the group. He and I met in college. He’d been discharged from the Marines a couple of months before, and he’d joined up right after high school. He’s probably the most musically talented person I’ve ever met. He can play multiple instruments, but he can really make an electric guitar sing. He’s married and they’re expecting their first child.”
He chewed a small cube of the deliciously marinated meat. “Tony, our base player, is from a large Italian family. He was the first in his family to go to college. Most of his siblings and cousins have gone into vocational things. When he went into music, his parents were a little upset. They were looking forward to having a doctor or lawyer in the family. They’re a little more accepting now he’s signed a recording contract.”
He paused for a moment, noticing the color and variety of the table setting with mismatched colored bowls and plates. The artistic flare she brought to the food and the table triggered his smile.
“Rand is the only one of us who didn’t go to college. He’s come up hard. His father abandoned him and his mother when she was six months pregnant, and he’s never come back into the picture. His mom raised him alone, but she’s had some issues and been in and out of rehab.”
“Is that why he has such an attitude?” she asked.
“Some of it. Sometimes I feel he’s behaving the way people expect him to. He’s a naturally gifted musician and songwriter, but he somehow always ends up going off track. Right now he’s on the straight and narrow. If the three of us can keep him moving in the right direction, maybe we won’t have to shit-can him. He’d be hard to replace.” Drew was surprised how much regret he felt at the idea of losing Rand. He was a pain in the ass, a rabble-rouser, and an aggravation, but he could be funny when the mood struck him, and he was a demon on his drums.
Katrina’s voice broke into his thoughts. “You can’t be responsible for anyone but yourself. If he wants what the four of you have earned badly enough, he’ll keep it together.”
“I hope you’re right.”
She urged him on with, “And then there’s you.”
“Yeah.” How much could he share with her?
“Where and when was your first performance as a musician?”
“High school. Three other guys and I threw together a band a month before an annual talent show. We were all closet musicians but had never played in public.” He grimaced. “It was pretty ugly.”
She laughed. “And when did you discover you could affect women with your voice?”
“That same night. My father had tried to warn me. I didn’t realize what he meant until after the show. For days afterward girls followed me around the school like groupies.” What he’d first thought was cool, ended up being—he shook his head—like being stalked.
“Isn’t that what’s happening again, Drew?” Her expression was so earnest.
He considered her words for a moment while he finished his last bite of beef and green pepper. He took a sip of wine to wash it down. “I don’t know. But I couldn’t hold the other guys back by refusing to sign the contract. There’s a balance of talent between us that makes our music popular. It isn’t all just about my voice.”
Though he sensed she wanted to say more, instead she asked, “Would you like coffee with dessert?”
“I thought we might go for that walk first, then eat dessert later.”
“Okay.” She leaned back in her seat. “How powerful is your voice?”
He hesitated, reluctant to tell her.
She leaned forward and rested her elbows on the table. “I saw the way you worked the crowd at the club. How you built them to a fever pitch, then gave them what they craved, then eased them back down. How are you going to reproduce that digitally?”
Defensive because of her questions, he felt his anger begin to build.
She continued. “Theoretically you could addict someone to that sexual high you create. When you sing, it’s like you’re having sex with every woman who hears you.”
Why was she suddenly using this to push him away? He was tempted to drop the mental wall he’d built between them to get a better read on her, but the idea of being out of control again dissuaded him.
He had begun to bond with this woman. If she broke it off now and set him adrift…
Drew leaned forward and placed his hand over hers. “Don’t do this, Katrina.”