The Billionaire's Mermaid

by Amberlee Day

  Cleo put a hand on the woman’s shoulder. “If you need to worry about anybody, it’s probably me. When he figures out that his mermaid is just a normal young woman, I might be the one left out in the cold.”

  Mrs. Fortney shook her head before returning to her business of setting out Cleo’s breakfast and the snow gear. “Like I said, it’s none of my business. I thought he’d finally found someone he was happy with once before, but something soured there. I always thought it was him, but ...”

  Cleo’s brow creased. “Almost married before? Well, that’s not a surprise. He’s thirty-seven. I’m sure he’s been close to marriage a number of times.”

  “Perhaps, but this was just at Christmastime, so not so far in the past as you might think. Anyway, I think you know he’s pretty taken with you, and I hope that’s a good thing. Let me know if you need anything.” The housekeeper made her exit too quickly for Cleo to ask any more questions.

  Van had been close to marriage so recently? Christmas was only two months ago. Who was she? Cleo wouldn’t know; she only knew Van at his home, with Lily and the staff.

  I’m the staff, too. That old hollow feeling began to creep in. Being left alone, abandoned.

  No, she wouldn’t let it. For now, she’d trust in what Van’s kisses told her, what she’d read in his looks. He was attracted to her, yes. But there was more than that. She could feel it. Yes, she’d trust in her instincts for now, and focus on today.

  Pushing the worries from her mind, she rushed through her morning routine. Nothing was going to spoil how wonderful it felt to be held in Van’s arms, or keep her from spending time with him today.

  TWENTY MINUTES LATER, Cleo hurried down the back stairs, full of oatmeal and bundled for the cold morning. She found Van in the kitchen mudroom, pacing. He too was fully clothed for the outdoors. Seeing Cleo, he made a beeline to her. His hands grasped her elbows, and her fingertips found his chest. “I—” Van stopped when Mrs. Fortney passed by the doorway on her way through the kitchen, her eyebrow raised. His hands dropped to his sides, and he took a step back. “Are you ready?”

  Cleo nodded. Awkwardly silent, he helped her put on a pair of snow boots and skis, and when they were both ready, led the way out into the bright new morning.

  Amazing what a difference a day could make. Last night, her time outdoors had been a nightmare. This morning, bundled in proper clothing and without snow pelting her face, Cleo followed Van into a winter wonderland. Eagle Hill had been white with snow ever since Cleo’s arrival, but the storm had brought a soft new covering. Surrounded by the thick forest, it wasn’t long before they were out of view of the house.

  Van led the way, and Cleo followed. Several times he gave her long looks over his shoulder. A happy warmth filled her. Does he think I’m going to disappear?

  The world was white with shining blue skies, brand new for them, and Cleo’s spirits soared in the fresh air. She’d never been on skis before, but cross-country skiing turned out to be easy, and she glided along behind him. When Van stopped and looked around, she drew up beside him and waited. The skis proved to be an awkward foil, but he pulled her as close as he could manage, and kissed her.

  Like the night before, Cleo felt the whole world melt away when Van kissed her. Her fears of abandonment, her loneliness ... it all dissolved with those sweet, tender kisses. It was like she’d found a missing part of her, a place she belonged. She didn’t want it to end, but eventually he put an inch between them.

  “I had to make sure I didn’t imagine this,” Van said, his gloved hand on her cheek. “How are you this morning?”

  “Happy.” She hoped her smile would tell him to kiss her again, and it worked. They stayed for another minute that way, sharing kisses and relishing in this newfound closeness. When Van made the move to go, she reluctantly followed his lead.

  “I can’t let you miss this powder,” he said. “I’m envious! Your first time skiing, and the conditions are perfect.”

  “Yes, it’s the fresh snow that’s making this morning so special. I knew there was something.” She sped by him when he looked to see if she was teasing, but she’d let him judge by the smile she felt in her eyes.

  “Hey, wait,” he said, coming up close behind her. “Let me lead, will you? I don’t want to have to rescue you from the bottom of a cliff. You find danger much too easily.”

  THEY SKIED FOR WHAT Van assured her was miles, though it didn’t feel that way to Cleo. They stopped every so often to enjoy the view, though they spent more time enjoying sweet kisses than they did admiring the valley below.

  Conversation flowed freely between them, talk of places they’d been and comparing their very different childhoods. Cleo shared stories from her competition days, traveling across the United States and to South America. Van told her of his own work and travels. The talks—and sneaking kisses—continued when their excursion ended, and they met again in Van’s library, sitting close on the loveseat near the fire. Samson, who appeared to be recovered from the previous day’s adventure, snored at their feet.

  During lunch, Lily quietly studied her uncle and her mermaid while she ate her fish sticks. Not much got by the bright ten-year-old, and later during their swim time, Cleo answered Lily’s questions honestly. The girl was thrilled to hear that Cleo and Van “liked each other,” as Lily put it. She said she wished Cleo might become her aunt some day.

  I’d like it, too. She didn’t bother chastising herself for hoping too soon. This new closeness with Van made anything feel possible.

  DAYS PASSED, THEN WEEKS. Cleo and Van spent as much time as they could manage in each other’s company. They went ice skating with Lily on Lake Louise, spent a day exploring the Village, and skied together several mornings a week. When the weather kept them inside, they took over Mrs. Fortney’s kitchen and baked chocolate chip cookies with Lily, or the three of them played long games of hide and seek in the massive house. Whenever Lily was “it,” they hid together, quietly talking and kissing until they were found. If there was ever a time in Cleo’s life that she wanted to never end, this was it. Perfect days, and nights filled with dreams of Van, which quickly came true in the morning as she never had to go far in the house before he found her. The idea that things could change didn’t cross her mind. She wouldn’t let it.

  A great many old movies played in the home theater during those weeks, Esther Williams movies and other big band flicks among them. It took Van awhile to really find some he enjoyed, but once Cleo had him hooked on the Thin Man series, he said they ranked right up there as his favorites.

  Late one night, after watching Song of the Thin Man, Cleo and Van stayed curled up on their seat as the closing credits rolled, both reluctant to end the evening. “Why is this place called Eagle Hill?” she asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Why Eagle? I mean, it’s clearly a hill. But why not Lake Louise Hill? Or Rivers Hill? Weren’t your ancestors who owned the place Rivers?”

  “They were,” he said. Cleo suspected that Van had been getting sleepy, but now his voice brightened. Local history was his favorite subject. “When Thomas J. Rivers worked on the railroad through this area, he decided to climb this hill one summer day. He got to a spot with a view—the exact location of that spot is still under debate—and lay down to rest. He fell asleep, and when he woke up, he saw an eagle sitting on a dead tree leaning over the side of the hill, watching him. He felt like it was a sign he should build a house here.”

  “So he did.” Cleo had watched him, entranced. She loved hearing his stories.

  Van smiled at her, and before kissing her, repeated, “So he did.”

  LILY’S SYNCHRO TRAINING was coming along nicely. A couple of times a week they put on their tails and spent their hours in the pool mermaiding. Van still hadn’t joined them. He’d moved his business hours to the afternoon so he could spend the mornings with Cleo. She asked him once why he hadn’t had any out-of-town business to deal with lately, but he only teased that she was tryi
ng to get rid of him.

  “If money can’t buy a few weeks working from home, what good is it?” he told her.

  “I guess so,” she said. “It’s almost as luxurious as buying your own mermaid.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her. “Best investment I ever made,” he said.

  Chapter 21

  One morning before lunch, Cleo and Lily were in the school room, watching synchronized swimming performances online.

  “How do they do it all at the same time?” Lily asked.

  “Well, first you need to be able to perform the moves, and then you learn to do it in sync with the group. It takes a lot of trusting each other, and a lot of practice.”

  “Like weeks?”

  “Much more than that, but every week you do it, you get better at it. You’re really doing well learning your moves, Lily. I’ve been thinking to help strengthen your core, we should start spending some time in your Uncle Van’s weight room.”

  Lily frowned. “I don’t want to lift weights.”

  “No? Have you ever done it? It’s kind of fun.”

  “No way. I’d just drop something heavy on my foot.”

  “I can teach you how to do it safely,” Cleo said, but Lily wasn’t budging. What she wanted to do was synchronized swimming with a group, and she wanted it now.

  Cleo sighed. “I’ll make you a deal. If you can practice synchro with a group for one afternoon, will you give weight training a try?”

  It took a few minutes for Lily to make up her mind, but once she did, she was all in. “It’s a deal,” Lily said. “But where are you going to get a group of swimmers for me to practice with?”

  SURPRISINGLY, GUS AND Mrs. Fortney were the happiest to comply with Cleo’s request.

  “We’re both early risers, and like to get some swimming in before we start work,” Mrs. Fortney said. “When I get here at six, Gus is already well into his laps.”

  Van, from where he stood tentatively in the shallow end, gave her an inquisitive look. “You and Gus, Mrs. Fortney?”

  Mrs. Fortney blushed at the implication. “Oh, hush,” she said, and swam expertly away from him to the other side of the pool. Gus, treading water in the deep end, chuckled.

  Cleo whispered in Van’s ear, “Are they both widowed?”

  “She is, a long time ago. He’s an old bachelor. I never really thought about it, but ... Do you think?”

  Cleo gave Van a sympathetic look. “It’s hard realizing your grandparents might have a romantic side.”

  Van’s frown deepened. “You know they aren’t my grandparents, and I really don’t think they’re romantic. I’m just going to forget you put that picture in my mind.”

  Cleo giggled. She enjoyed watching how quickly he got riled up, and how happily he responded to her redirecting him. “So, you wear a swim shirt in the pool.” Cleo ran her hands along Van’s polyester-covered chest.

  His frown transformed to a grin, and he captured her hands in his. “I do. Is that a problem?”

  “It is. If you’re all covered up, how will I know if you have a hairy chest?”

  Van laughed loudly, and from the other side of the pool Lily chastised him. “Come on, you guys! Quit playing around. How am I supposed to become a champion synchronized swimmer if everyone keeps taking breaks?”

  Cleo batted her eyes at Van before gliding smoothly back to the deep end. “Lily’s right, break’s over. Everyone back to their spots. Loren, how are you doing?”

  The two visiting cooks had agreed to extend their stay at Lake Louise on Van’s request, as they didn’t need to be back in Alaska for another few weeks. Luckily, they had swimming suits with them, as they were just returning from time in the Caribbean. Reva had quickly agreed to help with the synchro when Cleo approached them, but Loren was less enthused. Now, the pale, tattooed man shivered in the pool. “Doing okay,” he said through chattering teeth. “Is this water always so cold?”

  “You just don’t have enough padding to keep you warm,” said Reva, who didn’t have that problem. She was enjoying her time in the pool, and swam nearly as gracefully as Cleo. “You just need to keep moving.”

  “Okay,” Loren said, awkwardly following behind her to get in his spot.

  They were still missing one participant. “Where’s Leonard?” Cleo asked.

  “He had to make a pit stop,” Gus said. “Here he comes now.”

  Leonard, Van’s stylish but questionably competent assistant, rushed from the changing room door and jumped back into the pool. He splashed the whole group, and by the time he surfaced, everyone was complaining.

  “What did you do that for?” Van asked.

  “Sorry,” Leonard said. “It’s so cold once you get out.”

  Loren groaned. “Colder once you get out?”

  “You’ll live.” Reva patted his back.

  Cleo reminded everyone of the simple moves they’d already practiced, before commanding the voice-activated speaker to start the music. As Cleo led them through the moves, some of their team did better than others. Lily, who was Cleo’s real focus, did her best to keep up with Cleo. The others in the group did their best to be bodies filling spaces, but Cleo had to stifle giggles every time she caught sight of the men’s performances. Leonard wasn’t too bad, and Gus hit the moves with more punch than grace. But if she had to pick whether Van or Loren were the worst, it would be a toss-up.

  “I think this would be easier if you could hear the music under water,” Van said at one point.

  “Yes, Mr. Rivers,” Leonard said politely. “I’m sure you’d be excellent if you could just hear the music.”

  Cleo giggled, and swam close to Van. “Actually,” she said just loud enough for him to hear, “if Lily gets serious about synchro, you can get speakers so she can hear the music underwater.”

  “Good to know. I’ll keep that in mind next time I need a negotiating tool.”

  Cleo made her impromptu swim team practice for about thirty more minutes before taking pity on them. “Okay, Lily,” she said. “What do you think? Now that you have an idea what it’s like to work with a group, should we let them go?”

  Lily shrugged. “Sure. But sometime when I get really good, I have to work with a real team.”

  “Of course,” Cleo said. A glance at Van told her two things: he was relieved to be released from synchro duty, but thinking of Lily joining a team away from home hadn’t occurred to him before now.

  I’ll have to work on that soon. It’ll do Lily good to practice around other girls, and to make some friends.

  Once they knew they’d been released, Leonard and Loren each made a beeline for the pool’s only changing station. Leonard reached it first, and even after he slammed the door closed, Loren stood there shivering.

  Reva climbed out of the pool, and went to his rescue. “Here you go,” she said, wrapping her grateful husband in a thick towel. Loren thanked her through chattering teeth.

  Cleo laughed, just as Van came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her. She spun around to face him. “How about you?” she asked. “Are you hooked on synchro, or is it too cold for you?”

  “A little cold,” he said, “but I think I could be convinced to come back.”

  “Oh?” She batted her eyes at him. “Tell me, so I know how to tempt you back into the water.”

  He kissed her lightly. “I’m easy. That’s all it takes.”

  “Mm,” she smiled. “If I were wearing my tail right now, it would be curling.”

  Before he could kiss her again, Lily splashed them hard. “Why did I think this was a good idea?” she said, shaking her blonde curls while the grown-ups laughed.

  Chapter 22

  One day at lunch, Mrs. Fortney banged a plate of BLTs onto the sandwich room table, and headed back into the kitchen without a word. She didn’t look happy.

  “Is something wrong with Mrs. Fortney?” Cleo asked Van.

  He finished a bite of sandwich he’d already dived into before answering with a shrug. �
�She’s making chicken pot pies. She’s always like this when she makes pot pie.”

  The answer didn’t satisfy Cleo. If Mrs. Fortney didn’t like making pot pies, why make them? After lunch she stopped in the kitchen, to see if there was something she could do to help.

  “He always has to have the same thing,” the housekeeper grumbled in response. “Always the pot pie. Why I ever had to serve it in the first place, I don’t know.”

  “Who? Van?” Cleo asked. “If it’s too much work and you don’t want to make it, just say so. He’ll understand.”

  Mrs. Fortney stopped rolling out pie crust and gave Cleo a withering look. “Do you really think I’d have trouble telling Mr. Rivers no? I would not.”

  “Then who are you making it for?”

  The older woman resumed her rolling. “Who indeed. Let’s just say I make pot pie for God and country. I make it as a service to the commonwealth.”

  That was all the answer Cleo could get out of Mrs. Fortney, so she took her concern to Van. He was in his office, reading over some notes before a video conference.

  “The prime minister.” He answered her query without looking up. “He’s stopping by for dinner.”

  “Prime minister of what?” Sometimes Cleo forgot that Eagle Hill, Lake Louise, and the whole Banff National Park was in Canada. When she realized that Van meant the prime minister of Canada, the current prime minister of Canada, a low, nervous giggle escaped her lips.

  That got Van’s attention. “What?”

  “Nothing.” She tried to sound normal.

  “Seriously. You’d never heard of Banff National Park before coming here, but you have a crush on our prime minister?”

  Cleo spread her hands out in surrender, her eyes wide. “Who doesn’t? I mean, come on. You have to admit, he’s pretty awesome.”