Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 102166 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 511(@200wpm)___ 409(@250wpm)___ 341(@300wpm)
“Can you leave that pretty gold card of yours? I’m feeling peckish.”
Monty was going to charge at least five hundred dollars’ worth of sushi to his card. But it beat him trying to eat Checkers again. So Finn left his card on the island before leaving the apartment.
He hadn’t been down to the pool since that first night with Iris.
He was surprised to walk up to the door that had once just been glass to see a new screen on it.
Mermaid Privacy Screen was scrawled across it.
Huh.
That was nice.
Though he wasn’t sure if someone had asked the super to put it up out of genuine concern for Iris’s privacy. Or because they’d been upset that their kids or husband had witnessed some unexpected nudity.
Finn felt an unexpected jolt of possessiveness, not wanting anyone to see Iris like that. Even if he knew it was natural for her and her culture to be comfortable with their bodies.
He reached for the door and moved inside.
The moment he opened the door, the air shifted, smelling unmistakably briny and wild, like a storm rolling off the sea. The humidity wrapped around him like a memory. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he could hear a whale song. Or maybe that was just in his head, stirred up by the presence of the woman he couldn’t get out of his blood.
Iris’s tail slapped the water when she dove under.
She swam away from him, so he had just a moment to watch how perfectly she moved through the water. Like the two of them recognized each other. Like they were meant for each other.
And, of course, they were.
He felt a pang as he sat down on a chaise, suddenly feeling like he’d stolen something sacred from the place she belonged.
But, of course, she was a grown woman. If she didn’t want to be there, she didn’t have to.
She’d chosen land.
He hadn’t stolen her from the ocean.
“Did Monty tell you I was here?” Iris asked, her sea glass eyes glaring at him from the side of the pool.
“He was trying to schmooze my credit card out of me, so you can’t be too mad at him.”
“That’s to be determined,” she said, pushing off the wall of the pool to float on her back.
Finn tried not to notice the way her breasts peeked out from between the wet strands of her hair.
Clearly, he failed.
And this was not a good time to be having desire burning through his veins.
“Why are you here?” Iris asked, gaze still on the ceiling.
“We need to talk.”
“I’d rather not.”
“I’m afraid it’s not optional.”
Iris swam to the edge of the pool, effortlessly hauling herself out onto the cement, her tail glistening. He had an almost overwhelming urge to reach out and feel it for himself.
So he curled his hands into fists.
“Why do you sound like my tutor when I wasn’t paying attention to my lessons?” she asked, reaching toward her bag to pull out a shell comb and start the process of brushing out her long strands. The motion made that citrus-salt scent of hers drift over to Finn. It wasn’t helping the whole desire thing.
“We need to talk about that interview you did.”
“Why would we need to talk about that? I thought that was what you wanted. To go public.”
There it was again.
A tightness and coolness to her tone.
Completely different from the faux enthusiasm in her little news interview.
“Yes,” Finn agreed. He took a steadying breath, his gaze watching as her tail slowly disappeared, leaving perfect legs in its wake.
Finn shifted in his seat, his pants brushing against a part of him that refused to listen to reason, nearly dragging a groan out of him.
“Then what’s the problem?” she asked. Her voice pitched higher. Almost as fake as it had been in the interview.
“We needed to go public in the right way.”
“Oh, yes, optics. How could I forget?”
“It’s important that we project the right image.”
“Triton forbid anything real interrupts the narrative.”
“It’s not that it’s fake. It’s—”
“What did Marsha want?” Iris interrupted.
“I’m sorry?”
“What did Marsha Grand want?”
“It was just … campaign stuff.”
“Campaign stuff,” she repeated. Her voice grew tight. “Was it some big secret?”
“Not especially.”
“Can you ever just … give a real answer?” she snapped, making Finn straighten.
“That was a real answer.”
“It’s always perfectly twisted so you don’t make anyone unhappy. Mr. Electable,” she said, turning onto all fours, then slowly getting to her feet. “Manicured messaging in a suit. All optics. No authenticity. I mean, when’s the last time you felt anything real?”
His hand shot out, closing gently around her wrist, drawing her closer.
“I’m feeling something real right now.”
Could she read the sincerity on his face?
Did she hear the thickness in his voice?
Iris’s gaze cut to his, surprise crossing her pretty face for a moment as he applied pressure. Not exactly pulling her, leaving the ball in her court.