Her Frog Prince

by Shirley Jump

  "I never said you were."

  He shook his head. "Sometimes, Parris, you don't need to speak."

  "What's that supposed to mean?"

  "I've seen the way you look at me. Like I'm an idiot because I can't coordinate a shirt with a pair of pants. I spend my days on boats like this one." He indicated the whaling boat. "A suit would be a bit out of place."

  Brad looked far from scruffy today. He had on a navy tank top and khaki shorts, both of which set off his tan and showed that beneath everything, he was a man.

  A very muscular man. A very…handsome man.

  She swallowed and took a step back, refusing to say that to him. To acknowledge those feelings, to him or herself. She was not going down that road today. She was already on the wrong boat. No need to make any more wrong turns. "They have to turn the boat around. Now."

  "No can do."

  "I can't miss the Kingmans' brunch. They're donating to the auction."

  "And I can't miss my whale. He's going to take me to the squids." Brad's focus went to the ocean. "I hope."

  "I cannot spend my day on this heap."

  He turned and looked at her, a slow glance that swept her from head to toe. "Not in those shoes, you can't."

  "Not in any shoes, not in any outfit," Parris said, infuriated that her cheeks were hot, her traitorous body pleased with his perusal. "We have to turn around."

  "Sorry." He grinned. "You're stuck with me. Déjà vu."

  "Not for long." She dug in her purse, yanked out her cell phone and flipped it open. A blank, black face greeted her. No power. In all the rush with the auction in the past couple of days, she'd forgotten to charge it. She muttered a curse under her breath. "Can this day get any worse?"

  "Sure it can. But it can also get better. You're stuck here, Parris. So why not enjoy it?"

  She took a look around the battered, stinky decks. "I don't think so."

  Brad shrugged. "Suit yourself." Then he walked away, clambering up the steps to the pilothouse.

  There was only one solution. Mutiny.

  A little over an hour later, Brad found Parris belowdecks, clutching the tabletop as if it were an oak tree in a hurricane. "Are you going to sit there and sulk all day?"

  She swung her head toward him in a slow semicircle. Her skin had gone ashen, nearly green. She had her lips pursed together tightly, as if the mere act of speaking would send her stomach over the edge.

  He couldn't keep from smiling. From his perpetual station by the coffeepot, Jerry sent Brad a grin and arched his brow, silently questioning who the woman was. Brad didn't elaborate. He did, however, bite back the urge to tell Parris she deserved a little nausea for the way she'd treated him. "Ocean a little rough for you?"

  She scowled. "Let me die alone, please."

  Brad laughed and took her arm, tugging her gently to her feet. "Come on. You're not going to get better staying down here."

  "I don't want to get better. I want to die." She pressed a hand to her stomach.

  "Trust me."

  She gave him a glance that told him how much she trusted him. She must have felt worse than she looked, though, because she went along with him, limp as a damp towel. He helped her up the ladder, those ridiculous shoes catching on the holes in the aluminum treads.

  Brad put out a hand to steady her. He connected with her lithe waist and she moved, taking a step. The silky fabric of her dress shifted against her side, rubbing against his palm, as smooth as gliding along her bare skin.

  Brad missed the next step and nearly fell down the ladder. Keep a little distance. A much better plan.

  Yeah, except the more distance he had, the more he noticed the shapely curve of her backside, the heart-shaped flex of her calves, the smooth tightness of her thighs.

  The boat rocked over a wave and Parris swayed into his arms. A burst of heat exploded in his chest. "Steady there," he told himself more than her. Gigi took one look at them, bumping into each other like two boats that couldn't stay on course, and padded off to the sunny bow.

  "I am steady." She jerked forward and went back to climbing the ladder, putting a lot more distance between them than before.

  Hmm. Maybe the impervious Parris wasn't so immune to him after all.

  He shook his head. He was here to do research. Important data that he needed to gather today if he was going to have any hope of wowing the research foundation in a week. Since he hadn't chosen the mating habits of marine biologists with uppity society women as his subject, he needed to refocus on whales and squid.

  Not Parris and those awesome legs.

  She reached the top step and paused on the deck before throwing back her head, squaring her shoulders and striding away from him. She took two steady steps before wavering, her face going apple-green again.

  Brad scrambled after her and wrapped an arm around her waist. Oh damn. Bad idea. She felt even better close up. Like Christmas and his birthday rolled into one. "Here, grab on to the railing and stare at the horizon."

  "What? Why?"

  "Trust me. It works."

  Her lips tightened into a line again and she clutched at her stomach, eyes closed.

  "That's going to make it worse," he whispered in her ear. From their stations around the boat, the crew watched Brad and Parris's entire exchange. Well, watched Parris. Women with gorgeous legs, skimpy dresses and three-inch heels were not frequent visitors to Tabitha's Curse.

  "I don't care if it makes it worse." Then she let out a moan that negated her statement and swung against him. She clearly wasn't going to last long if he didn't take desperate measures.

  Brad moved behind her, planting his legs on either side of her, then took her hands with his and placed them on the railings, locking their fingers together. "Open your eyes."

  "I don't like being told what to do."

  "If you don't open your eyes and look at the horizon, I will tickle you."

  That did the trick. She swung her head around to glare at him. "You wouldn't dare."

  "Try me." He grinned. "Now if you're going to stare at something, look at where the water ends and the sky begins instead of at me."

  "Why?"

  "Oh, for God's sake, Parris. Do you have to question everything I tell you? Just do it."

  Icicles would have shattered in the cold glance she gave him, but after a second, she did as she was told. He remained where he was, holding her tight.

  A stupid plan because, being so close to her, in such an intimate position, had his mind on everything but what was in the ocean below them. He could feel every curve of her body, every breath she took. As the boat rose and fell with the slow curl of the waves, so too did his libido.

  Well, that only went up.

  Oh damn. "You, ah, feeling better now?"

  "Yeah. Uh, a lot." She let out a breath and shifted forward.

  Thank God. He swallowed and released her, backing away and willing his body to stop responding to hers.

  Yeah, he'd have better luck telling the sun to stop shining.

  "I have some…" His mind drew a blank as he searched for the name of the animal he was here to find. "Whales. Yeah, whales to look for. I should leave you alone. Look at the horizon whenever you feel ill."

  But she didn't release him that easily. She turned, putting her back to the railing and her emerald eyes on him. His feet refused to go anywhere: "Why whales? What do they have to do with squid?"

  "Do you know anything about giant squids?"

  She grimaced. "Only that the thought of them turns my stomach."

  He chuckled. "Well, I suppose they are kind of gross. But fascinating."

  "See, this is why you need a makeover. Probably a dating counselor. Squid are not 'fascinating' conversation with a woman you're interested in."

  "You think I'm interested in you?"

  She opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "I never said that."

  "Then I can talk squid all I want, right? Save the sparkling tidbits for the other women."


  Once again, she looked as if she were about to say something but then thought better of it. "Then by all means, tell me about your squid and whales. Why are you so interested in squid anyway?"

  "It's not really all squid. Just giant squid. They're real, but they're also mythical in a way because no one's ever seen one alive."

  "Ever? Then how do you know they exist?"

  "Because we find dead ones all the time. Two have washed up in Florida, one in nineteen sixty-nine and one in nineteen seventy-eight."

  "That doesn't seem like a lot."

  "Well, those are the, ah, whole ones. A lot more are found in the stomachs of whales and parts are found in fisherman's nets."

  "Eww." She looked at the horizon again. "So you're out here to try to find a live one?"

  He laughed. "I think every marine biologist from here to New Zealand would give his right arm for that. No, what I'm hoping to do is catch a sperm whale going after one for a little lunch and maybe get some pictures. Catching a fifty-foot squid isn't in the plan for today."

  "And how are you going to get a picture? Jump in there with your Kodak?"

  "Rover's going to help me." He gestured toward a bright yellow waterproof video camera attached to the cabling and crane on the bow. "Jerry, my assistant, and I are going to try to get some candid shots of a sperm-whale buffet. They're the only known predators of the giant squid. If you can't find the prey—"

  "Look for the hunter."

  "Exactly."

  The shared thought connected them for a moment, drawing their gazes and minds together, charging the air between them. For an instant, he wanted to draw nearer to her, to prolong the moment. How long had it been since he'd let a woman into his world?

  Easy answer. Never. No woman Brad had dated had ever taken an interest in what he did, especially Susan. Parris came from the same stock and yet she seemed different from Susan in so many ways.

  But in the end, Parris lived in the world he'd escaped. The same flash-and-dash society his mother wanted him to rejoin, tie in hand. Parris was the wrong type of woman for him and the last one he should be thinking about kissing. And yet he did think about it—constantly.

  What was it about this woman that simultaneously infuriated and attracted him? It was as if he saw something of himself in her, and at the same time, she brought out the worst in him.

  Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a burst of water, then a long brown-gray torpedo shape gliding along the ocean surface. "Turn around," he said softly. "And look."

  When she did, she gasped in surprise. "It's a whale!"

  "Yep. A sperm whale to be exact. See the little hump on the back, followed by a row of bumps? It's hard to see, but his head is huge and boxy. Sperm whales have the biggest heads of all the mammals in the world. It's almost a third of the whale's whole length."

  "Really?"

  "Yeah. The shape of their head and the coloring tells you it's a sperm whale."

  "It's so…big. I never thought…" Her voice trailed off, her jaw slack.

  "The males can grow to be up to sixty feet in length. This one's not that big, maybe twenty-five feet. He's probably a teenager."

  "Will it get closer to the boat?"

  "Maybe. Sperm whales can be pretty friendly."

  She put her hand over his on the railing, in an unconscious gesture. Her touch was warm and tender.

  So unlike the Parris he thought he knew. His body reacted in all the ways he'd told it not to, craving more of her touch.

  "Oh no, it's going under the water."

  "He'll be back. And usually where there's one, there's more."

  Beside him, Parris had stilled with anticipation. Her eyes were bright, and a smile played at her lips. Her seasickness forgotten, she stood at the edge of the deck, waiting as eagerly as a child beside a Christmas tree.

  "There's another one," Brad said, pointing. "See how he's just hanging there, on the surface, not swimming? That's called logging. Because he—"

  "Looks like a log?"

  "Exactly." Once again, the shared thought seemed to draw them closer. Ignoring his earlier resolve to stay away, Brad closed the physical gap between them and put an arm around her waist, pointing out the characteristics of the new whale, showing her where the blowhole was, explaining how whalers calculated, by the animal's length, the time a whale could spend under water before needing a breath.

  The boat was in the middle of a whale pod. On any other day, Brad would have been leaping at the Rover, hustling to get the camera into the water and take advantage of this prime opportunity.

  But for once, his mind wasn't on work. It was on the lithe woman beside him who was such an odd juxtaposition of bite and temptation.

  And that was dangerous for his career—and for him. Very, very dangerous.

  Chapter Four

  The sun had already set by the time Tabitha's Curse chugged back into port, but Parris barely even noticed the hour. For the first time in ages, she'd forgotten about the auction and the responsibilities waiting for her on shore. She'd forgotten about everything except the amazing world Brad had shown her beneath the ocean.

  Not to mention the other side of the man she had stereotyped as a beach bum.

  She'd been wrong. About a lot of things.

  "That was really incredible," she told him, when he joined her on the bow after having wrapped up his research and shut down his equipment. He and his partner Jerry had spent a lot of time, after the camera had surfaced, writing down their results and then packing all the computers, video screens, cables and cameras with the care of jewelers handling rare gems.

  "I never get tired of being out here," Brad said.

  The docks were only a hundred yards away. Parris closed her eyes, opened them, but the docks were still there. Maybe the engine would break down or the fog would reappear.

  Anything to delay the inevitable return to reality. She'd enjoyed herself out here with Brad, more than she wanted to admit. Gigi, who'd spent a good portion of the day sleeping in the sun on the deck, came up beside her. Parris reached down and absently patted the chow's head.

  Parris inhaled the salty air and, with it, a sense of relaxation. It had been a long time since she'd enjoyed anything. All the shopping trips, endless dinner parties… none of them held any appeal anymore. They seemed as empty as the deflated balloons at the end of a party.

  "I guess today really showed me all the great things you can see if you learn to be patient." She laughed. "That's not one of my strong suits, in case you hadn't noticed."

  Brad turned away from the railing. "I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. I thought you'd be bored, considering we didn't see any giant squid."

  She smiled. "Giant squid aren't the only interesting things in the ocean."

  Parris didn't want to tell him that after he'd rescued her from her seasickness, she hadn't been bored for a second. First, watching the whales, then watching as the camera was lowered into the water. After the Rover was on its undersea journey, she and Brad had gone into the cabin, where he had a laptop, TV screen and recording devices connected to the exploring camera. She'd been able to watch the Rover as it made its descent, glimpsing marine life in living color the whole way down.

  But most of all, she'd watched Brad's face, the fascination in his eyes as he'd followed everything from the tiny fish darting by to the flick of a whale's tail as it brushed within kissing distance of the camera. He loved his work, that much was clear.

  He had the one thing she had been seeking for herself. A passion for something that wasn't money- or reward-driven. Brad Smith was clearly a man with more depth than the oceans he plumbed.

  He wasn't like anyone she'd ever met before. He was more…vivid. Stronger. She knew, after today, that being involved with him would require more from her than she'd ever given before.

  That was something that alternately scared and intrigued her.

  Brad turned back to the railing, hands draped across the silver pole. "My dream is to have enough funding t
o be able to attach a camera to the back of a sperm whale."

  "Why would you want to do that?"

  "With a remote camera, I can go where the whale goes and not be hindered by the weather above or the schedule of the boat. Plus, no one's ever attempted mounting a camera on a sperm whale before, though they've been successful in doing it to great white sharks." He grinned. "It's not easy to get a sixty-foot animal to cooperate when you want to stick something on its back."

  "It's not easy to get a five-foot-seven woman to do what you want, either." She smirked.

  He chuckled. "Ain't that the truth?" He ran a hand along the railing. "You're awfully nice today. What happened to the woman I pulled into my boat?"

  "What do you mean?"

  "The one who called me 'fisher boy' and had an attitude longer than the Gulf Coast?"

  Heat filled her face. "I'm sorry about that."

  "You're sorry?"

  "Hey! I'm apologizing. Don't be difficult."

  "I'm difficult?"

  "You'll be swimming with those whales sooner than you think if you don't stop giving me a hard time." She put a hand on his back, pretending she would push him over.

  The zap of electricity that traveled up her arm at the contact told her she was the one going over the edge. What had she been thinking? She had a business to run, not a romance to start.

  Hadn't she learned love was a lot of smoke and mirrors anyway? It would dissipate as surely as the fog, leaving her on an old, stinky boat going right back to the place where she'd started—Tabitha's Curse. A metaphor for her life.

  Brad took her hand in his, a smile on his face. "So, have you given any more thought to my request?"

  "The makeover?"

  "Yeah. You still owe me a couple favors, you know. I did rescue you from the sharks, after all."

  They had reached the docks. The captain was cutting the engines, turning and reversing as needed to bring the boat in alignment with the wooden edge. "I can't. I don't have time."

  "Can't? Or won't?"

  "You don't understand. I—"

  Brad jerked away. "I understand perfectly."

  "It's just—"

  "You don't want to sully the reputation of your business with a squid man makeover?"