by Vivian Arend
Matt’s grip tightened. “No, I don’t want him to do anything more than complete the ceremonial ritual, but it’s your right to accept more.”
“No. Nothing more.” The words exploded out, and she watched James’s expression fade from one of anticipation to resignation.
“Ah, well, a fellow’s got to hope, you know.”
Matt growled lightly. “Go on, and don’t take all day.”
James dipped his head politely, then reached out a hand to Laurin. She glanced hesitantly at Matt. He nodded, and she took a steadying breath and placed her fingers in James’s. He kissed them briefly before tugging her closer and nestling her tight against him. Her naked skin had cooled in the brief time they’d stood talking, and a physical connection between them flickered like embers under a fine layer of ashes. Banked heat, waiting to flare up with the slightest provocation. He slipped his fingers around her neck and pressed their lips together.
Deep disappointment and blessed relief hit simultaneously. The man was sexy, and giving, and…just didn’t turn her on. The thought of having another man touch her while she made love with Matt—that didn’t seem as far-fetched as she’d believed at the start of the evening. There was something simmering far below the surface that had been extremely turned on watching the performance.
But not with James.
The otter shifter released her with a sigh, shaking his head sorrowfully. He clicked his tongue and turned to Matt. “Ah, mate, you’ve found yourself a fine one with this lady.”
Matt surrounded her, taking possession and hiding her frame against his. “I have, and you remember it.”
James tilted his head cockily. “Well, if you’ll not take me as a third right now, then I’d best return to my party.”
He spun and strode the few paces back to where the others of his clan had resumed their lovemaking. Laurin had had enough. She tucked her face into Matt’s neck and shook as the whole evening crashed in on her.
His lips touched her temple. Tender. Warm. “Let me get you home.”
She let him take her by the hand and lead her back to their cabin, and all the time that word spun in her brain. Home.
It was becoming clearer that meant less a physical location and more wherever Matt happened to be.
Chapter Seven
The tide would turn in a few short hours. Matt moved smoothly over the deck as he made the final adjustments he needed to ready the Stormchild to sail. There were extra bodies scattered all over the ship—members of the clan lending a hand bringing his and Laurin’s possessions on board, as well as stealing a final opportunity to snoop on the shaman and his lady’s private space.
Matt had never looked forward to moving to a new community more in his life.
“Ho, the ship.” Willam stood at the railing, peering toward the wheelhouse. “Is your woman already on board?”
Probably hoped Matt would somehow forget and leave without her. As if that was possible. Since the night of the ceremony they’d been linked even closer. Not only in their physical reactions, but it was as if the ceremony had triggered some kind of revelation in both of them.
“She’s with the children, saying farewell and giving last-minute assignments.”
Willam nodded. He clapped his hands and a group of men appeared, carrying a heavy chest and lowering it carefully to the decking.
Matt strode over. “What is this?”
The otter chief grinned. “Your wedding gift from my people.”
“But we can’t—”
The man’s hand rose regally to stop Matt’s protests. “You honored us by being the first community you visited after becoming one. We honor you as is your right and our privilege.”
Willam crossed his arms over his bulky chest. Stubborn, good-hearted fool. There was nothing Matt needed from this clan, but to turn the gift away?
He bowed. “We give you thanks.”
Willam smiled, his teeth flashing white. “You’re welcome.”
The clan leader turned to the dock and clapped again, and another group scurried on board. Matt eyed the second chest with trepidation. Generosity was one thing, but he had to be able to stow all these new items safely and the Stormchild wasn’t built like a barge. “Are there many more, sir?”
A loud laugh escaped the man. “This is for Laurin. She can thank me properly the next time you return.”
There was far too much innuendo implied in that comment, but Matt chose to let it go. The leader turned and walked away without another glance, leaving Matt silently amused as he directed the clan men where to store the chests.
The rest of their leave-taking was far less dramatic than their arrival. Laurin arrived within five minutes of her expected time, the gathering of little ones who had escorted her scattering back to their mothers as she made her way over the plank to reach the deck. He waved, and finished his prep, watching her every chance he got until she ducked below and disappeared from his sight. When she returned topside she wore a thin tank top, her arms bare to the sunshine and the rising breeze. She leaned back on the cabin house, her dark eyes fixed on him as he took them out of the marina. A dozen of the clan still sprawled naked on the deck and she raised a brow and indicated them with her head.
“It’s okay,” he called out. “They’re simply looking for an adventure.”
She crossed her arms. “How long is this adventure supposed to last?”
“Not long.” The Stormchild broke free from the harbor, the waves rising to greet the keel and the clan shouted in delight. One after another they raced to the prow and leapt from the deck, shifting in midair to land with a splash in their otter forms.
Laurin rushed forward, laughter escaping as she wrapped an arm around Matt’s waist. “They are the most rambunctious, the most fun loving, and the most alive of any of the People of the Sea.”
Matt nuzzled under her ear with his nose, keeping one arm wrapped around her waist and the other firmly on the tiller. “And they can totally drive a person insane.”
She smiled at him, her eyes widening as she stared over his shoulder. “Shit. I think we picked up a stowaway.”
Matt twisted his head and swore. The last thing he’d expected, the last person he wanted to see. “James. You sea dog. What the hell are you doing?”
His friend pushed off the tarp that had covered him and stood, running a hand through his dark hair. He was naked, as usual, and grinned at Laurin while wiggling his brows. “Just thought I’d check one more time if you needed me for anything.”
“Go.”
Matt roared it out at the same instant Laurin seconded his command, pointing back toward the village, her other fist firmly planted on her hip.
James raised his hands in entreaty. “Fine, I’ll leave. But you’ll need a third sometime. I wanted you to know I’m available…”
Matt didn’t think of using his shaman power. In fact, he was sure he had a tight grip on his reflexes, but suddenly James slid across the deck, hit the railing and tipped over backward. The size of the resulting splash indicated the man hadn’t had time to shift to otter before reaching the water’s surface.
Hell. He didn’t know Laurin had the ability to do that. Matt twisted to stare at her in surprise. “Remind me not to piss you off.”
“Me? What did I do? I didn’t think that was a very nice way for you to treat your friend, even if he’s got sex on the brain.”
“That wasn’t me.” He let go of the tiller and went to peer over the railing. Otters danced and played around the Stormchild, leaping the wake in some crazy imitation of their dolphin cousins.
Laurin’s face was white. “Then how…?”
He motioned her to wheelhouse, switching the controls and preparing to sail. “We can talk about it more when we get underway. But I think, perhaps, your powers and mine decided James had had enough of our time.”
“We did that together?”
“It’s the only explanation.” She looked so concerned he paused to smooth a hand down her arm, c
omforting her. “It’s okay. As strange as it seems, there was no harm done by it. And don’t worry about James—trust me, it’s not the first time he’s ever been kicked out from where he wasn’t requested.”
She gave a laugh and nodded, kissing his cheek before moving to get out of his way.
Laurin tucked the last of her things into the compartments in the forward berth. Leaving any community was usually bittersweet, but this was the first time she’d actually not looked forward to her next destination.
The journey there with Matt—time with some privacy—was all that was on her mind.
She’d never realized how very lonely she’d become over the past years. Moving from community to community had ensured her secrecy, but had also never allowed her to find anyone to confide in. This past month having Matt by her side had been a delight. Someone to talk to in the evenings, someone to bounce ideas off, even if it was in the stolen moments between his busy schedule and her own.
The cold empty ache in her core was warmer these days, and she would willingly confess it was because of Matt’s presence in her life.
She made her way toward the deck, stopping in the galley to put on a kettle of water for coffee. The tidy kitchen area made her smile—everything about the Stormchild reminded her of Matt. Organized, neat, and yet full of energy and surprises. His very presence was felt in the surroundings. She stirred sweetener into their drinks and covered the mugs with travel lids to take topside with her.
He was unfurling the spinnaker, aligning it with wind and letting the Stormchild move slowly with the rising breeze.
“Need me to do anything?” she called out.
He tossed a brilliant smile at her over his shoulder even as he shook his head. “Nearly done.”
Laurin put his coffee into a cup holder alongside the aft seating before wandering forward to face the direction of their travel. Sunlight danced on the ocean’s surface, tiny sparkles flashing as waves curled and broke before their prow.
Traveling forward. Headed for new destinations. She had children to teach all along the coast, with adjustments to make to fit her schedules with Matt’s. Every place they stopped she’d find new delights to entertain her. The ship dipped and rose, cradled by the ocean. It reminded her of flying—of the rise and fall when she soared on the wind currents, and suddenly the similarities between their worlds seemed far greater than the differences.
A pair of arms wrapped around her, Matt’s cheek pressed close to hers. His breath warmed her as he spoke. “You happy?”
She nodded. “I had a wonderful time with the otter folk. The teaching went well and…” How much could she say? How much did she want to admit? The connection between them grew deeper all the time, but she still didn’t understand why.
He twisted her to face him and slanted his mouth over hers. Kissing away her fears that lingered on the surface. When she would have moved against him, though, he withdrew, brushing his fingertips over her lips. “And what? You can’t start a sentence like that and not finish it.”
Laurin stared at the horizon, the bright water meeting the endless sky. “We still don’t know why we’re together.”
“Do we need to know?”
She frowned. “Of course.”
“Right now? Isn’t it enough to know that we’re headed in the proper direction?” He cupped her face in his hand, the ocean she always saw reflected in his eyes flooding her soul as he stared back. “We don’t know what tomorrow will bring, but for now, I am content that we are together. Not just physically, but in all the ways that count.” He adjusted their position, turning his back to the wind. “I admire you, Laurin. The advances you accomplished with the children in a limited time—extraordinary. The way you handled the clan and their idiosyncrasies in a polite and yet direct manner—political genius.”
She laughed. “Yes, finding new ways to ask for my clothes to be returned always involves diplomatic sweet talk.”
They exchanged smiles, the warmth of their bodies melding together like a soft and comfortable blanket. Then the bright light in his eyes deepened to hunger. She saw his passion rise and knew it was for her. Because of her. His voice, when he spoke again, had dropped a level, turning thick with desire.
“You put aside your natural modesty and honored me with your body. That meant your mind and soul willingly gave as well, and I will never forget it.”
A shiver ran along her skin as his magic washed her. A blessing. A promise. Her own powers stirred and meshed with his—creating an almost intoxicating blend.
He kissed her again, this time an increased urgency accompanying his touch. She fell under his spell, letting her own needs surface. They could have carried on, been carried away into the most natural consequences if the wind hadn’t chosen that moment to gust, flapping the sails wildly.
Matt stepped back, his gaze stroking her skin even as he moved to the ropes to fasten them tighter. “I’m not done with you.”
“Promises, promises.”
She danced away as he made a teasing grab in her direction. Laurin slipped out of reach, sliding closer to the wheelhouse, only to discover a large chest she hadn’t seen before tucked against the wall. The clasps opened easily and she nudged the lid upward, a flash of brightness hitting her eye.
On top of a layer of fabric rested a picture frame. Tiny pieces of abalone and minute shell fragments intertwined in the most intricate design, forming a triad of chains woven in relief against the vertical and cross posts. In the center there was a picture of her and Matt, the sun backlighting them. She stood on the rocky outcrop outside the village, her hand extended toward him. He was reaching up toward her, his head tilted back, feet firmly placed on the beach. Their fingers had just touched, the sun shining like a spotlight on the connection point.
Her heart skipped a beat.
She stared for the longest time, only subtly aware of the ship’s movements as Matt guided them. When they’d set out together, not so very long ago, it had been a relationship built completely on mutual attraction. The mystical attachment that followed had been unexpected, but he was right—all they had to do right now was acknowledge it existed. The why would eventually make itself clear.
But there was another emotion growing. She clutched the picture to her chest and twisted to stare at Matt as he turned them into the shelter of a bay for the night. He guided the Stormchild confidently, as he’d dealt with so many other issues over the past days. He’d said he admired her…
There was plenty to admire about him as well.
The splash of the anchor hitting the water woke her from her reverie and she started. He approached smoothly, his expression indulgent and pleased.
“You found our gifts from the otter clan. Is there something that pleases you?”
She nodded, then held out the picture. Laurin waited to see his response, anxiety fluttering inside—maybe he wouldn’t see the significance of the shot. He knelt beside her and brushed her hair behind one ear. He cupped her neck, touching their foreheads together. They stayed that way for a long time, their breaths synchronizing, bodies swaying slightly with the gentle movement of the ship as she rested for the night.
He tilted her chin and Laurin saw it in his eyes. He understood. A rush of emotion hit her and she wondered how fear and joy, uncertainty and confidence, could all be present simultaneously, but somehow, they were.
Matt brushed his lips against hers, speaking with the whisper of the wind. “We will move forward together. Wherever this path takes us.”
Laurin smiled and leaned into his frame, tucking into the protection of his body. Accepting the worship of his hands, the steadfastness of his caring.
The water’s path was uncertain, but she’d take the journey. With him.
About the Author
Vivian Arend has hiked, biked, skied and paddled her way around most of North America and parts of Europe. Throughout all the wandering in the wilderness, stories have been planted and they are bursting out in vivid colour. Paranorm
al, twisted fairytales, red-hot contemporaries—the genres are all over.
Between times of living with no running water, she home schools her teenaged children and tries to keep up with her husband—the instigator of most of the wilderness adventures.
She loves to hear from readers: [email protected]. You can also drop by www.vivianarend.com for more information on what is coming next.
Look for these titles by Vivian Arend
Now Available:
Granite Lake Wolves
Wolf Signs
Wolf Flight
Wolf Games
Wolf Tracks
Forces of Nature
Tidal Wave
Whirlpool
Turner Twins
Turn It On
Turn It Up
Stormchild
Falling, Freestyle
Coming Soon:
Silent Storm
Rising, Freestyle
Rocky Mountain Heat
These elements have no desire to be tamed…
Stormchild
© 2010 Vivian Arend
Pacific Passion, Book 1
As the new traveling doctor for the Pacific Inside Passage settlements, Matthew Jentry balances dual roles for his water-shifter people—caring for their health as a human-trained physician, and for their spiritual needs as a shaman.
Distractions of the female kind are not on his agenda, but his magical bloodline makes him a target for every marriage-minded woman within range. There’s something about the mysterious Laurin Marshall, though, that he finds far too enticing. It’s just as well that it’s time for him to move on.
Laurin thought she had perfected her guise as a mild-mannered teacher, but the sexual fireworks she and Matt touch off are threatening to blow her cover out of the water. Luckily it’s time for her to catch the boat to her next assignment.
When she discovers she’ll be sailing with Matt, she realizes there’s only one thing more dangerous than their unforgettable one-night stand—being trapped with him on a boat that gives “riding out the storm” a whole new meaning…
