“What if you hurt yourself?”
“I’m fine.”
“But the doctor said to stay in bed.”
“I am in bed. With you. And we’re both naked.”
“But—”
“Shh.”
Nat ended Annie’s objections by lowering his lips to hers. The slick, sweet heat of his kiss left her so weak that all she could do was moan. The kiss felt decadent. Reckless. Which brought her right back to reality.
“I’m worried this might make things worse and—” Her words were muffled by his continuing kiss, and she felt something hard and long poke into her belly. Nat sure didn’t appear to be physically impaired. In fact, he seemed robustly healthy. Gifted, even.
“I want you, Annie.” He pressed her wrists against the mattress and continued to leave soft and leisurely kisses along her neck, shoulders, and chest. “I want to make love to you. I want you to call out my name and beg for more. I want you to glisten, baby.”
Annie chuckled, knowing she’d long ago passed the glistening stage, sure he knew it, too. Her laughter turned into a gasp of pleasure the instant his soft lips brushed the top of her left breast, then her right. Involuntarily, she began to wiggle and arch up beneath him. When Nat gently bit down on a nipple and sucked, she nearly shot off the bed.
“You like that, huh?” Nat moved on to the other nipple. His hands left her wrists and traveled up into her hair again, then down her arms to her sides, eventually settling on her hips. Annie felt his fingers claim her flesh as he pressed his weight—and his way-above-average erection—into her stomach. Nat’s touch had an unusual intensity. His skin felt so hot. The sensation of his tongue and lips was extraordinarily electric. Her body hummed with awareness from her scalp to her pinkie toes. And in what she suspected would be her last moment of clearheadedness, Annie fumbled around inside the drawer of her bedside table until she found a condom.
“Are you always this prepared?” Nat asked, raising his head from her breast and taking the foil packet from her fingers.
“Yes.” She wrapped her legs around the backs of his thighs and squeezed.
“Are you always such a greedy little sex vixen?”
“No.”
When Nat smiled, his eyes flashed. Annie couldn’t decide whether it was a spark of delight or a warning to her that things were about to get interesting. She hoped it was a little of both.
“Annie Parker, I’m going to ravish you. I’m going to make you mine.” Nat began to slowly push himself further down her body, his lips and tongue trailing down between her breasts toward her belly button, which he greeted with a quick flick of his tongue. At that moment, she felt him pull away and push her legs apart, a move that made her whimper in anticipation. Oh God, she wanted this. She wanted him.
Nat looked up, his gaze locking on to hers, as he used his hands to press her wide open. Annie couldn’t remember the last time she felt so helpless, so exposed. Maybe she never had. Maybe she’d never allowed herself to.
Nat gave her a wicked little grin, then resumed using his lips and tongue to drive her insane. First she felt his kisses on the inside of her thighs. Next came a series of nibbles and licks, his mouth making its way toward her sex. The instant she felt Nat’s tongue slide along her opening, Annie tipped her head back and gasped at the acute pleasure.
And that was it. She knew there would be no turning back, no second-guessing. Whatever was happening between them was too powerful and too perfect to question. She knew that all she could do was hold on and enjoy her good fortune.
Nat took his sweet time teasing her with a trick bag of sexual moves that left her defenseless. There were long, deep licks and quick touches of the tip of his tongue. There were intervals of sucking—soft, then harder—that segued into one, two, then three fingers entering her, only to leave and start again. When he focused all his skills on her hard clitoris, she couldn’t help but scream. Before she could regain her composure, he’d slipped on the condom, realigned himself, and positioned himself against the entrance to her body.
“Annie,” he whispered.
She opened her eyes and realized she could barely see him through her tears. She couldn’t speak, so she nodded.
Nat smiled as he stroked the side of her cheek and brushed away her hair. “I need to be inside you now,” he whispered.
“Yes.” Annie felt how she’d instinctively opened wider for him, her body welcoming him. “Please, Nat.”
His mouth covered hers. She tasted herself—salty like the sea, rich and female—the juices of a greedy, love-starved woman. And as Nat pushed inside her in a single long, slow thrust, she swore she heard the waves crashing through her heart, through her soul.
• • •
Annie opened her eyes, took a breath, and knew that everything had changed.
One of her legs was thrown across Nat’s thighs and her head rested on his chest. His body felt hot and firm against hers, and their feet were entwined. Her hand lay on his hard belly, and his hand covered hers protectively.
Nat was asleep, his breathing deep and slow. Annie peeked up at him and saw how relaxed and peaceful his face was, how handsome. Suddenly, she felt a twinge of guilt for being such a terrible nursemaid. In fact, she sucked so bad at nursing that she had no idea what time it was or how long Nat had been asleep, which was a real no-no. Plus, she’d just had wild, bed-rocking sex for hours on end with a patient who was supposed to be resting and might even have a concussion, an offense that surely would be frowned upon by everyone—except maybe Rowan.
Though Nat stirred, she continued to observe him. He had a strong neck and a firm jawline. She noticed that his face had become scruffier as the hours passed and decided a bit of beard looked unbearably sexy on him. His hair was just long enough to give him some bad-boy possibilities. But those lips! They were the most erotic lips of any man she’d ever known, smooth and straight, soft, the foundation for that magical smile. And, boy, did he know how to use them. Annie thought it amusing that Nat had grown up in what sounded like one of the most ordinary places in the world, yet he was the most extraordinary man she’d ever known.
At first she’d found him slightly intimidating, with all that cocky male energy and his hipster clothing. But he’d grown on her. Fast. And it was difficult to believe that she’d just met Nat and he’d already accomplished the impossible—he’d gotten her to let down her guard.
She closed her eyes and nestled in to him again, a sudden sadness enveloping her. It wasn’t fair. The idea that Nathaniel Ravelle would be leaving as soon as he’d finished whatever he’d come to Bayberry Island to do made her want to cry. All night she’d been trying to push away the knowledge of the inevitable, but it kept returning, even in moments of extreme pleasure. But how could she pretend to be surprised by this? She’d let him in. She’d taken the most deadly of all fatal missteps. She’d allowed herself to want him, to have expectations about their relationship, though she had no idea if Nat had any of his own.
Annie sighed, promising herself two things: She would keep her anxiety to herself, and she would enjoy what time she and Nat had together, no matter how brief it might be.
Though she didn’t want this moment to end, it was time to wake Nat to check that he was alert and oriented. Plus, she needed to know how much time they had before the doctor showed up, because finding them naked together in bed, clothes and cats thrown every which way, probably wouldn’t go over well with a health care professional.
“I know you’re awake,” Nat whispered, gently stroking her hair.
When Annie smiled, her cheek pushed against his chest. “How could you tell?”
“I hear your brain working.”
She giggled. “It works when I’m asleep, too.”
“Not like it is now.” He pulled her tighter. “Right now, your brain sounds like a 767 taking off from LAX. Care to share what’s going on in there?”
She shrugged. “Just that if I were a good nursemaid, I would rouse you, make sure you were still thinking straight.”
Nat began to move her hand, the one resting on his belly, pushing it under the blankets. Her fingertips encountered a part of Nat that she’d already become quite familiar with. It was silky, hard, and thick. It was perfection. It had turned her into a helpless and oversexed wreck of a woman who now had all kinds of expectations. She couldn’t help but smile. “I said ‘roused,’ not ‘aroused.’”
“My bad.”
Annie stroked him, feeling how rapidly he grew in her hand. She loved the effect her touch had on him. “Don’t get me wrong. I can work with aroused.”
“Yes, you certainly can.” Nat turned on his side, facing her. He cradled her head in the crook of his left elbow and slid his right hand along her ribs, into the valley of her waist and up along the rise of her hip and back again. All the while he gazed into her eyes and smiled softly.
“You are so beautiful, Annie.”
She’d heard this dozens of times that night, but she didn’t mind him repeating himself. “Thank you.”
“Do you know what I find to be the most beautiful thing about you?”
Nat’s voice had become rough with emotion. The sudden change put her on alert. “You have a favorite thing in particular?”
“I do.” He continued to look at her, a gentleness in his expression that she hadn’t seen before.
Her hands stilled. Somehow, Annie knew the conversation was about to veer away from playful sex talk and move into a deeper place. It surprised her a little. It scared her even more. As it was, she was barely containing her anxiety.
Don’t go. Don’t leave. Stay with me, Nat. Stay with me always.
“Do you want to know what it is?”
She nodded.
Nat brought his finger to her throat and slid it down the front of her chest. “The most beautiful thing about you is”—he brushed across the top of both her breasts, then pressed his index finger into the center of her sternum—“right here. It’s your heart, Annie Parker. You are impossibly beautiful in your heart, the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”
For a second, she forgot how to breathe. The tears built and there was nothing she could do to stop them.
“But there’s something that comes a close second.” Nat dragged his fingertip up from her chest, over her chin and lips, and along the bridge of her nose. He tapped her forehead. “Your mind.”
Annie smiled through her tears. She wished she could come up with a clever response, but her emotions were so strong she couldn’t speak. All she could do was nod softly.
“It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said. “I feel what you feel. All I’ve been thinking about is how I could make it work here.”
“What?” Annie’s pulse just spiked. What was he saying?
“I’ve been trying to figure out how I could spend a lot of my time here on Bayberry Island, with you.”
Nat kissed her then. It was sweet and earnest and it seemed to reach deeper inside her being than any kiss that had come before it. It knocked the breath from her.
He eventually removed his lips and leaned his forehead against hers. “There’s something I need to ask you to do for me, Annie.”
She pulled back and looked at him. The last time a man started a request that way, he was gunning for two thousand dollars to bail his brother out of jail on the mainland, plus thirty bucks for the round-trip ferry ride. Instead, he’d gotten a one-way trip out of her life. But, as if Annie needed further proof that she’d completely lost all grasp of reality, she simply said, “Anything, Nat.”
He smiled. “I need you to tell me a story.”
Annie narrowed one eye at him and tipped her chin down. “Say what?”
“A story.”
“Are we talking a mermaid-and-sea-captain kind of story?”
He was embarrassed! His cheeks had just flushed and he looked away. “Yes,” Nat said.
Annie had no idea where he was going with this, but she trusted him. For some reason, she trusted Nathaniel Ravelle completely. “Should I get one of my books?”
“Actually, I’d like hear the original story. The legend. The whole thing.” He glanced up at her again. “Like I said, I didn’t read up on it, and I think it would be much better coming from you.”
Annie brushed away any remaining tears. She touched his chin and studied him. “Is this to prepare for your show?”
Nat shook his head. “I want to hear the story for me.”
She blinked in surprise. “Is there any particular reason why you—”
“I think it might be an important tale for me to hear. I have a lot to learn about love. This could be a good place to start. Besides, I happen to be naked and in bed with the island’s storyteller-in-residence at the moment.”
“I see.” Annie felt her mouth twitch. So the California-cool customer wanted to hear the over-the-top romantic tale of her little island? “I’d be happy to tell you, Nat. Unlike one of my own novels, I really do have this story memorized. I’ve been hearing it since first grade.”
She cleared her throat before she began. “Once upon a time . . . well, on March 14, 1881, to be exact, an Irish immigrant named Rutherford Flynn was out on his fishing boat when an epic nor’easter hit.”
“Is that your friend’s relative?”
“Oh yes. He was Rowan’s great-great-great grandfather, to be exact. In a way, the Flynns are like the island’s first family. Rutherford started Flynn Fisheries when he settled here, and it became the island’s largest employer, the basis of the entire economy for more than a hundred years.”
“Interesting.”
Annie kissed Nat softly, which distracted her. “So, where was I?”
“The nor’easter.”
“Right. So Rutherford was at the helm of the Safe Haven, the lead fishing boat in his company’s fleet, when the storm hit. As the story goes, he fought valiantly to guide the boats to shore, but all seemed lost as the gale-force winds and sea swells tossed them off course.”
“Sounds dramatic.”
“Well, all good stories are. Then, suddenly—as Rutherford would later explain in great detail to anyone who would sit still long enough to listen—he spotted a mermaid at the boat’s side, strangely illuminated in the dark, swirling water. Her raven hair fanned out around her. Her beautiful, dark eyes locked on his as she smiled reassuringly.”
Nat frowned.
“Is something wrong?”
“No, please go on. This is great. I clearly picked the right person to tell me this story.”
She smiled. “Anyway, Rutherford watched in awe as the mermaid pulled his boat to the cove, and the other boats followed, saving most of the male population of the island and its future generations in the process. Now, this is where things get good.”
“I can’t wait.”
“According to the legend, poor Rutherford was so overcome with emotion that the instant his ship was secured, he dove into the frigid Atlantic in search of the divine creature who had saved them, attempting to pledge his undying love and devotion to her. The fool nearly drowned, of course, but his men managed to pull him from the crashing ice-cold sea. They dragged him to the inn, where he slipped into a fevered illness for days.”
“I’ll be damned.”
“When he awoke, his eyes landed on the beautiful innkeeper’s daughter, who had been nursing him back to health. And what did he see? The same shiny raven black hair and dark, beautiful eyes that he’d seen in the mermaid! Despite the girl’s protests, Rutherford swore the women were one and the same, and he rolled off his sickbed to one knee and pledged to cherish her and love her until the end of time.”
Nat’s eyes went wide.
“According to the legend, they ended up insanely happy together, and Rutherford’s business boomed and his family grew. He built a luxurious mansion for his wife, which is now the Safe Haven B and B.”
“Ah, okay. Makes perfect sense.”
“Now, ol’ Rutherford, who some believed had lost his entire pack of marbles by that time, commissioned a bronze mermaid statue and fountain for the center of town to be made in his wife’s likeness. You have to remember that this was during the Victorian era and this was New England, right? So when the huge, nearly naked mermaid was unveiled, the locals freaked. But what could they do? By that time, Rutherford was not just the biggest employer on the island, he was the mayor.”
“Sounds like Chicago.”
Annie laughed. “So, soon after the statue was unveiled, stories began to circulate about her special powers. Overemotional girls swore the mermaid could reveal to them their true loves. But only if they asked with a pure heart.”
“You mean they had to be virgins?”
“No. I mean they had to have good intentions. I’ll get to more of the rules in a minute.”
“This story sure has a lot of damn rules.”
Annie grinned. “Baby, we’re just getting started.”
Ezra chose that moment to thud onto the bed again. He tried to shove his fat cat body between them, but Annie and Nat guided him toward their feet, smiling at each other the whole time.
“I lost my train of thought.”
“The mermaid rules.”
“Oh, right. So young women swore the mermaid could deliver their true loves. The men who kissed the mermaid’s hand claimed to fall under a magical spell. They said they suddenly were consumed with a passion beyond reason for one particular girl they envisioned in their mind’s eye—often one they’d never met and had no name for! As the years went by, this basic legend evolved into its expanded, modern-day form.”
Nat looked slightly upset.
Annie thought maybe the story was too long. “I can stop here if you want me to.”
“Hell no. Don’t you dare!”
She laughed. “Okay, so here’s the legend as it stands today: True love is like the sea—beautiful, deep, and life-giving but unpredictable, powerful, and even dangerous. To succeed at love, you must set out on your journey with a true heart and be prepared to be tossed by waves of passion, be willing to drown in love’s undertow. The legend claims that anyone who comes to the mermaid, kisses her hand, and pledges to go wherever love leads will find happiness. But beware.” Annie wiggled her eyebrows for effect. “Anyone who comes to the Great Mermaid with preconceived notions about the ‘who-what-wheres’ of true love will find heartache instead.”
Nat’s face blanched white. He looked almost seasick.
“Are you all right?”
He blinked at Annie. “Yeah. But I need some clarification on something you just said.”
“Sure.”
“All this stuff that’s supposed to happen—you know, the passion beyond reason thing and the magical spell and undertow shit—that can happen only if you go to the mermaid personally, right? I mean, someone else can’t go to the mermaid and plead your case without your knowledge, right? The mermaid just can’t throw something like that on an unsuspecting passerby, right?”
“No. You have to go to her yourself and make your request—if you believe in any of this crap, that is.”
Nat nodded and thanked her for telling the story, but she could tell something still troubled him.
And then she remembered . . .
“Hold up,” she said. “I take back that last part. There’s supposed to be another way the mermaid juju can get you, but it’s just as goofy as everything else about the legend.”
Nat’s eyes got big again. “What’s the other way?”
“Well, back when we were teenagers, Rowan told me that Mona and her minions have a bunch of secret rituals that no one’s supposed to know about—pledges and chanting and handshakes and stupid stuff like that. But one night, Rowan eavesdropped on them.
“She overheard them talking about performing a ritual—I think they even called it an ‘intervention.’ It was for a woman who refused to believe in the power of the Great Mermaid. Apparently, they were waiting for a solstice or special moon phase or some ridiculous thing, and when it came, they planned to put on their wigs and scales—”
Annie stopped. They jolted up at the same time, startling Ezra so much that he hissed before he thumped off the bed. Annie and Nat stared at each other in silence for a very long moment.
Then Nat said, “I think yesterday was the winter solstice.”