She nuzzled her head into his chest. “Not that I ever remember.” At least not since Carlyle rebelled.
“Even if I locate his lost treasure?” he asked.
“The great conch? He told you about that?” she sat up in surprise.
Dad never mentioned that lost symbol of the mer-king’s power. When the mer-people were chased from their home by marauding sharks, it had disappeared in the chaos. The then mer-king had ruled that as precious as it was, it was still not valuable enough to risk mer lives to retrieve it. In the centuries since, Serene suspected its power and beauty had been mythologized far beyond the truth.
“What conch?” Anton broke into her thoughts. “He didn’t say anything about a conch. Just that his greatest treasure was missing. I guess I assumed he meant your brother.”
She patted him. “Probably. Forget about the conch. Legend has it that it was left behind centuries ago in our abandoned caverns. Even if the waters around there were not shark infested, the caves lie too deep for a man or a bear to plumb.”
“Seems a bit dangerous just to get back a sea shell.”
“The great conch wasn’t just a sea shell,” she corrected loyally. “They say a single blast on it could summon all the mer-people at once. Dad claims it was encrusted with pearls and reinforced with gold.” She chuckled. “You know how stories grow with telling.”
He stroked her back. “So they do. Every teller adds a little something extra and before long your great-great-grand’s handsome, nineteenth century, tooled-leather bible is a first edition Gutenberg.”
“Exactly. Promise me you won’t try to find it?” she begged.
He sighed. “I promise. Think if I find Carlyle that will convince your father that we’re meant to be?”
She sighed. “Only Neptune knows.”
How long could this love affair last if her father wasn’t on board? Not long, unless she went back on her word. Which would mean leaving West Haven. She couldn’t leave the ocean. But Oregon had a lot of islands. A lot of coastline. Was she brave enough and ballsy enough to follow Carlyle’s lead? She wouldn’t exactly be alone – she would have Anton. And yet even though being with Anton felt right, breaking her word did not. She had sworn on the Pacific.
Her bear broke into her musings again. “How about him letting the mermaids join in the patrol last night? Wasn’t that a break with mer tradition?”
“I guess so. But he didn’t expand the roster this morning to include us in the regular patrols.” It hadn’t even crossed her father’s stubborn mind.
Anton’s big hand worked its way from the tender area at the nape of her neck and traveled down her spine caressing each vertebra. Electric desire followed where his fingers played. He ended with a tender squeeze of her bottom. “You’re my mate,” he said obstinately. “I’m not letting you go.” He rolled her beneath him. “We’ll just have to find a way.”
His words warmed her. He sounded so sure. But she knew that Anton’s will was going to meet its match in her father. Their love was doomed.
“No,” she pushed at his chest.
“What?” He reared back. “Did I hurt you, love? You’re still pretty scraped up.”
“Nope. But it’s my turn.”
“You want to be on top?” He sounded hopeful.
“Hmm.”
He flopped onto his back and spread his arms. “Bring it on, babe.”
She might not have him forever, but by George she was going to build some great memories. She straddled Anton’s muscular thighs and reached for his tackle. His balls were heavy in her hands. His cock long, hard and hot. He moaned so loudly she was certain that Justine in the next room could hear. But she didn’t care. They might not get everything they needed, but they could have tonight.
“I won’t last if you keep that up,” Anton panted. His entire body was covered in a sheen of sweat, his mouth open in a spasm of arousal.
“So?” She grinned at him and bent to take him into her mouth.
His response was everything she had dreamed of. She swirled her tongue over the dripping cap to the accompaniment of his guttural song. His balls tightened under her kneading fingers. She backed off and nibbled her way down to the base and back to the tip. Rinse and repeat.
“You’re killing me,” he groaned. His scent hung thick and intoxicating in the air.
“Want me to stop?”
“No.”
She giggled. No other word for the silly noise she made against his cock. Her lips vibrated against the steely length sending little flutters from her mouth to her pussy. So she did it again, and again. Letting his excitement feed her own.
“You laughing at me, sweetheart?” His big hands were tugging gently at her hair and his head was writhing from side to side. The taste of his big, damp body was intoxicating. She nipped the base of his cock and kissed her way back to the cap by way of response, chuckling for sheer joy.
“I need to be inside you,” he panted. “Please.”
All at once she was desperate too. She settled down over his hot, slick shaft and felt him touch the heart of her. The electricity she felt when they made love settled into a heady pulsing. Hot lights flickered at the edge of her vision as she rode him. A paranormal aurora borealis formed. As if her aura and his set off fireworks.
His mouth was hot and eager under hers. He tasted of bear and testosterone. A familiar taste. The right taste. The taste of her one true love. She released his mouth and sat up and increased her pace. He bucked beneath her. Her passage convulsed. Her folds quivered with the shock of her orgasm. He flooded her.
“Jesus,” he whispered. “I promised I wouldn’t do that.”
“Do what?” she murmured sleepily, not wanting to let go of the delicious sensation of being close to him, her pleasure amplified by his.
“Knock you up.”
“Huh?”
“You rode me bareback, sweetheart. There is no way my boys are not going to seek out your girls and make us some babies.”
“Babies?”
“I told you, bears run to big litters.”
“So you did.” But the thought did not prevent her from drifting peacefully to sleep in her lover’s burly arms.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
Anton~
Serena slept peacefully in his arms. He had never had a lover like this. Never. It was not merely that her body pleased him. Not just that she fit his cock like the proverbial glove. It was something deeper.
Every time he made love to her, he felt an increased intimacy, as if their souls were tightly yoked. Damn straight. No matter what her father believed, Serena was his destiny. It was his job to find a way to convince the mer-king of that.
His joining in the search for Carmody, despite the unfairness of being treated like a predatory pedophile, should have established his lack of viciousness. But even if the folks on Ghost Hill had slapped his back and shaken his hand, the mer-king was unmoved.
Not that Serena’s dad was afraid of hunters. Old Roger’s objections weren’t based on fear. The mer-king just wanted to keep his bloodlines pure. Well, that ship had just sailed. Anton inhaled Serena’s scent. Was it just his imagination, or was she ripening already?
She couldn’t be pregnant. Not that fast. But in his heart of hearts he didn’t doubt his potency or her receptivity. King Roger was going to be justifiably homicidal. Even before bear cubs with gills were born. Anton was going to have to do some pretty fancy footwork to get his ass out of this crack. And yet the thought of his love carrying his cubs couldn’t distress him. Not hardly.
What did distress him was the prospect of his kids growing up without their maternal grandparents. Family was everything. If his babies were half-mer they would need the support of their mer clan. His family’s love might not be an adequate replacement. So before he and Serena could be happy, the Merrymans needed to get on board.
First thing to accomplish was to find the crown prince. Holden hadn’t called Anton back. That didn’t mean his boss wasn’t looking for Carlyl
e. Only that he hadn’t found Serena’s brother yet. Anton could only hope that the mer-king had been wrong about his son. No point showing up with some hopeless drifter or junkie and expecting to be rewarded with the princess.
He eased Serena back onto her pillow and got dressed again. Leaving her after making love sucked. But unless he made his own luck, this was just a taste of his sad and sorry future.
He gave her cheek a kiss, tucked his little bear into her relaxed hand, and headed for his truck. He could get in a couple hours of sleep at Sunflower before it was time for work. Maybe a solution would come to him in his sleep.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
Robin~
“As you know, Otto Coleridge has taken early retirement, effective immediately. I’m appointing you interim sheriff, Walter,” Robin said.
Uneasiness crept into Walter Babcock’s eyes. He fidgeted slightly in the visitor’s chair. “Now, Ms. Fairchild, I’d have to resign from the town council. Couldn’t do both.”
“Mystic Bay needs you,” Robin said smoothly. “So does the entire island. Provided you sit out all policing issues, I think you could continue to fill your seat at least until the next election.”
Walter looked pleased, but his reply was typically modest. “Folks may not want a rabbit as sheriff.”
“Then they would be foolish. I admit it would be a risk – for you, not Mystic Bay. You might hold the job until the current term is up, run for sheriff instead of councillor, and wind up with neither job nor seat on the council. But you will always have a job here at the inn. And the museum is going to need full-time security. Quinn Drake has already sounded me out about luring you over there to run things.” The dragon shifter and rabbit had forged an unlikely friendship when Walter saved Moira from a blackmailer.*
Walter perked up. “I sure can’t afford to be unemployed. And I didn’t like to trade on my friendship with Quinn to get hired on at the museum. But Melissa is pregnant again. A raise would be a big help.”
“The sheriff’s salary would be about double what you make as a deputy and working at the inn combined,” Robin said.
“You reckon folks would be okay with paying me the same as Otto Coleridge?”
“One of you went to the police academy,” Robin said tartly. “And knows what he’s doing. And it isn’t Otto.” She paused. “Will you accept the post?”
“I guess likely. But I think I should talk it over first with Melissa.”
“You do that, Walter. Your Melissa is a sensible woman.”
*Desired by the Dragon
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
Serena~
She was swimming with her family. Mom’s hair floated around her face, the brown dye rinsed away by the sea to reveal an autumn sunset. Justine’s and Charlotte’s hair was confined in shimmering braids that gave them each a second, iridescent tail. Dad’s blue-black hair had turned its natural teal. A gold wreath circled his brow. Carlyle’s rippling curls had the turquoise and azure vibrancy of a tropical sea.
She didn’t recognize this stretch of ocean they were swimming through. The sea floor sloped away beneath their stroking limbs, too distant to see. There were no sea-marks. None at all. No forests of undulating kelp. No reefs. The water was the deep gray of thunderclouds.
“What about sharks?” she asked in the language of dreams. Or perhaps her mind spoke to the others.
“All gone. Chased away by the orcas,” said Carlyle briskly.
“Keep your tridents handy,” ordered Dad cheerfully.
“Aye, sire,” they chorused.
Serena was suddenly aware that she carried one. It was lighter in her hand than her father’s had been. Lighter and better balanced. But just as lethal. It gave her confidence. The joy of swimming with her family warmed and strengthened her. But where were they?
“It’s around here somewhere,” Carlyle said obscurely. Everyone else seemed to know what he meant.
A stream of electric-blue dragonfish engulfed their small party. Gray sea lions in hot pursuit brushed past them as if they were invisible. For an instant she lost visual contact with her family and panic engulfed her. The unknown peril of the open sea turned her tail muscles sluggish.
“It’s okay, sis,” Carlyle appeared beside her. “We’re beside you. You’re safe. Not far now.”
What were they seeking, so far out to sea? In no man’s waters?
“We’re in search of the great conch, of course, and the realm of our ancestors.” Carlyle and Dad spoke in grave unison.
She relaxed and followed their lead through the deep dark water.
Serena sat up in bed and shrugged off the last tendrils of her dream. Anton had gone, of course. They had decided that he wouldn’t leave his truck outside her cottage all night for the neighbors to gossip about.
She closed her fist around her little bear before she could drop it. The uneasy delight created by her dream began to dissipate. It was just a dream. A dream of family concord and the closing of the aching void left by Carlyle’s banishment. If only.
And yet it had left her jumpy. As if she truly had been swimming with sharks. The memory of the pressure of that cold black water oppressed her mind. The little bear warmed her hand reassuringly. It was just a dream. Nothing more. Carlyle was gone, never to return. Even if Dad had changed his mind about exiling his son, none of them knew where he was.
Swimming in shark-free waters, she hoped. Painting somewhere where the ocean spray danced bright and white against rocks gilded by the sunset. Not questing for the lost conch of the mer-kings. Even if it had been the magical instrument legend claimed, it was not worth losing his life over.
But, oh, if they had it back, King Roger could blow a single blast and summon his crown prince home. Smiling, sleep reclaimed her. Her talisman remained pressed between cheek and hand.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN
Anton~
He sent Serena a good morning text, but until the crew broke for morning coffee had no opportunity to check his cell for a reply. The mist had cleared, and the sky was as blue as if rain were never going to fall in the northwest again. The coffee urns in the tent dispensed hot comfort. The guys laughed and joked, stretching their arms and easing out their backs. Anton sat down with his mug to check his messages.
Serena had wished him a good morning by text. Signed it with a pair of lips. See you at lunch, he replied.
But when lunch came, she did not accompany the caterers from the Tidewater Inn. He asked Lucy where she was. That provoked a few snickers from the guys and a pair of raised eyebrows from the caterer.
“Took the day off,” Lucy responded.
Anton spent the remainder of his lunch hour outside in the winter sunshine working on his oyster shell. Gabby had lent him her rotary drill kit. He gingerly stripped away an oval of the mottled gray area behind his half-completed carving. Foolishness on his part. He was likely to damage shell and carve beyond repair. And yet the shell itself seemed to cry out for light to set the glowing interior ablaze.
The mermaid’s rippling hair was going to form a shimmering pastel nimbus around her face and body. Her tail curved left to take advantage of a surprising stripe of deep violet that ran through that section of nacre. He should be working on the features of his mate, not delicately chipping away this rough outer layer. But it seemed his hands would not obey his rational mind, for they continued to create light where there had been only shade.
There was still no reply from Serena when he went back to work with Bedford. And then the work week was over and it was the weekend. Just where the heck had his mate gotten to? Mustn’t become another Roger. Serena didn’t need a second despot in her life.
She was waiting for him on the back porch when he got back to Sunflower. He hadn’t realized how worried he had been until the sight of her relaxed his body. She was dressed in jeans and a parka against the chill of the evening, her pretty hair hidden by a knitted hat.
“Hey, are you okay?” He slammed the truck door.
S
he raised her face for his kiss. “I’m fine. Took a mental health day. Cooked us some supper.” She picked up a soft-sided picnic cooler.
“That’s good.” Was she worried about being pregnant? She didn’t seem anxious to him. Just preoccupied.
They went in through the kitchen door. “How was your day?” She took a casserole out of her bag and slipped it into the oven.
“We framed the second story,” he said.
“Already?”
“Yeah. Once the foundations are done, a building goes up fast. We should be roofing by next week.”
Her face fell. “And then you’ll go back to Denver?”
“Would you come with me?” he asked.
“I couldn’t live so far above sea level,” she said sorrowfully. “How would I breathe?”
He kissed her. Just a light homecoming kiss. “I’m not going anywhere without you,” he vowed.
She smiled with relief, but her smile faded fast. “What will you do in Mystic Bay when the museum is built?”
“Work on the high school gym,” he said. “I understand the Rutherfords have hired Bear Claw to put it up. That should take us into the middle of next year before I have to worry about a job.”
“What about your job in Denver?”
He shrugged. “They’ll have to manage without this bear. Could be my boss will keep me on contract.” He kissed her again. “Don’t you worry, sweetheart. Bears are good providers.”
“I was thinking more of Mom and Dad getting you kicked off the island,” she said dryly.
“Oh. Would you come with me? Plenty of islands in the San Juans.”
“I don’t know.” Her voice faded.
“No need to decide tonight, sweetheart.” Anton stretched. “Listen, I need to clean up. Give me a moment.”
“I could wash your back.” Despite her sorrowful indecision, her smile was sultry.
“So you could. What about your supper?”
“It can be left alone until we’re done.” Pulling off her knitted cap had released her hair from whatever loose knot it had been in. It spilled over her sweater in tumbling waves that were a sensual delight. Unfortunately, she bunched it and swiftly twisted it into another knot on top of her head. Only a few spiraling ringlets framed her face.
Beloved by the Bear: A Shifters in Love Fun & Flirty Romance (Mystic Bay Book 3) Page 13
