Sins Against the Sea (18 page)

Time dragged as she brewed her tea and buttered her toast. She took her time eating, but there was still no sign of Mrs. MacLeod. Worry began to gnaw. What if the old lady came after she’d gone and found Kew-in sleeping upstairs? Would there be trouble? Should she leave a note on the door? Maybe. Probably. Oh!̶but what if Finlay Trowbridge found it? Would he make trouble for her with Peter?

She clenched her jaw at the thought. Of course he would. She had no doubt he’d do anything and everything in his power to sabotage her. He was a Finman, after all, and Finmen were even more evil than humans, which was saying a lot.

She bit her lip between sips of tea and nibbles of toast. What to do? Maybe she could talk to MacInnes and get back before Kew-in awoke. Then, if Mrs. MacLeod stopped by, she might still be here.

Deciding that was the best way to proceed, Corey finished her breakfast and put her dishes in the sink. Time was of the essence. She could wash them later. Hurrying back upstairs, she washed her face and brushed her teeth and hair before checking on Kew-in. She was happy to find he was still sleeping soundly and, with any luck, wouldn’t rouse before she returned.

She put on her coat and went outside. From the porch, she surveyed the beach. Her stomach knotted when she saw Finlay Trowbridge talking to a member of the clean-up crew. Luckily, he didn’t see her. MacInnes was down by the water, taking pictures. She watched him for several moments, weighing whether or not to share the things she and Kew-in suspected about Conch. Seeing no harm in being upfront, she made her way to the rocks.

“MacInnes, I need to talk to you.”

“If you’ve come to feed me the party line, you can save your breath.”

“I haven’t,” she told him. “I’ve come to ask to borrow your boat. We think Conch is using vanishing magic to cover up an illegal drilling platform here in the Minch.”

Interest lit up his eyes. “Is that so? Well, well. I knew the greedy bastards were up to something…though, admittedly, I never dreamed it was anything quite that diabolical.”

“It is, believe me, and I have good reason to suspect Peter Blackwell, the president of Conch, is behind the whole scheme.”

“Oh, aye? Well, it wouldn’t surprise me. But what makes you think so?”

“Lots of things…starting with him being the only survivor of a shipwreck that killed my father, an engineer for Conch. The day before my dad died, he mailed home the blueprints for a self-contained drilling platform he’d designed—a sort of underwater space station. A few weeks later, Peter offered me a job at Conch when I finished my master’s degree. Right after I started working for him, he asked for the blueprints back.”

“Did you give them to him?”

“I didn’t feel I had a choice,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “Nor did I think much of it at the time.”

“So, you think they built this space-age platform here in the Minch, and are hiding it with Finfolk magic?” He laughed. “That’s a pretty far-fetched supposition, lass. How do you intend to prove it?”

“By breaking the enchantment and exposing the platform. First, however, we have to find someone who knows the counter-spell. Kew-in, my
boyfriend
, knows someone he thinks might know—but we need a boat to get to her.” She took a breath and looked into his eyes. “Would you be willing to loan us yours? It should only take a few hours to get there and back—and just think of the incredible story you’ll have if we succeed!”

He stroked his chin and looked thoughtful for a few moments before he said, “I might let you use my boat—if you agree to my terms.”

When he didn’t go on she prodded him. “Which are…?”

“The first is that you give me an exclusive on the story.”

“Done…and the other?”

“That you take me with you.”

Corey had to think carefully about his second request. If he went with them, he might see the selkie or figure out that Kew-in was more than human. Yes, the risks were relatively small, but she’d still rather she and Kew-in went alone. At the same time, they needed a boat, and the only others anchored in the bay belonged to the coastguard or the members of the clean-up crew. She could hardly canvass their owners without arousing Trowbridge’s suspicions, and if he found out they were onto his little scheme, well…she’d rather not think about what he might do to them. According to her mother’s stories, Finmen were evil, ruthless creatures who thought nothing of killing the humans who got in their way.

“I can live with you coming along, but the decision’s not mine alone to make,” she said at last. “The person we’re going to see is Kew-in’s friend, so I’ll have to ask him if he’s okay with it before I can give you an answer.”

“Fine,” the reporter said. “Then hurry on back to the cottage and ask your boyfriend’s permission, while I take more pictures of the devastation.”

Though his tone and the implication she was some witless woman who couldn’t make a move without consulting a man offended her deeply, she let the goad pass. She would not be pressured into making a decision that wasn’t hers to make. Leaving MacInnes, she dashed back to the cottage to find Kew-in was no longer in bed.

She found him in the room in which he’d spent the first part of the night. Dressed in jeans with frayed tears at the knees and a tight gray T-shirt that accentuated his athletic upper body, he was sitting in a chair, reading the English-Gaelic dictionary. His long hair spilled over his shoulders in a way she found incredibly sexy.

In fact, he looked as hot in clothes as he did without them.

She hovered in the doorway, admiring him from a distance. If she got too close, she might not get back to MacInnes anytime soon.

“Where’d you get the clothes?”

Kew-in looked up from the book and met her gaze. “I found them in a bag in one of the closets. Where have you been?”

“To see a man about a boat.”

His brow furrowed. “The reporter?”

She nodded and explained MacInnes’ demands.

When she’d finished, Kew-in shrugged one of his powerful shoulders. “As I will go ashore alone, I do not see where it will make much difference where Robharta is concerned—and, as far as you are concerned, I will feel better knowing you are not on your own. Provided he is honorable, of course.”

While she did not completely trust the reporter to behave like a gentleman, neither did she believe he’d force himself on her. “He knows you’re my boyfriend.”

She regretted the remark as soon as it slipped from her lips. For one thing, “boyfriend” seemed like such a juvenile term. For another, they had reached no firm agreement on the status of their relationship.

He smiled and a playful gleam came into his eyes. “Am I your boyfriend, Cordelia?”

A rush of hot blood heated her face. “Do you want to be?”

“Aye,” he said, grinning like a love struck schoolboy, “and so much more.”

Too embarrassed to keep standing there, she started to go, but he brought her back to the doorway with a telepathic,
Wait, I’m not finished.

“Tell the reporter I agree to his terms, provided he agrees to mine.” Her expectant gaze met his. “He will remain aboard the boat with you…and behave himself while I speak to the selkie, if and when she should appear. He also is to ask me no questions about the meeting. While selkies are not quite as cautious about their human interactions as are my people, it would still be wrong of me to bring trouble to her door. Especially when seeking a favor.”

Corey understood and agreed. “I will tell him your terms and see what he says.”

“Also find out which boat is his and let him know we will meet him there at first light.” He gave her a devastating smile. “Then get rid of him so we can get back to what we were doing last night.”

A quiver of desire went through Corey as she bounded back down the stairs and out the front door. She hurried back to the shore and, after communicating Kew-in’s terms, MacInnes readily agreed—a little too readily for comfort. As soon as she could, she returned to the cottage.

As she climbed the stairs, she hoped things with Kew-in would work out. Her logical mind couldn’t see the way, but her reason wasn’t in charge right now. Her heart was. All her life, she’d rejected that part of herself, rejected the magic in the world, and now she wanted to believe in it more than anything. Her scientific approach to life had never brought her happiness, so she was more than ready to embrace the wondrous and unexplainable for a change.

Upstairs, Corey found Kew-in in the kitchen, looking inside the refrigerator. He lifted his head as she came in. “How did it go?”

“Fine,” she said. “Are you hungry?”

“Aye.”

As she made him a tuna sandwich, she filled him in on the plan.

After he’d eaten, she kissed him, tasting fish. Kew-in returned the kiss and ran his hands up and down her back in a motion that reminded her of waves lapping the shore. It felt good to be in his arms. So good and so right. Yet, they were from two different worlds. To be together, he would have to give up everything he’d known before.

Tell me about your world under the sea.

His tongue swept into her mouth and clashed with hers in a tuna-flavored battle.

What do you wish to know?

Start with how it looks and go from there.

I live in a beautiful city inside a cave under the Charmed Isles. The dwellings are built mainly of pebbles, coral, and driftwood, and, because of the dynaflagelites, everything, even the walls of the cave, emits a soft blue-green glow. At the center is the ruin of a castle that slid into the sea centuries ago. The warriors moved it, stone by stone, and rebuilt it inside the cave. The castle belongs to Murtagh, the chieftain of our clan. Since my father died, I have lived there with him and his son, Shan, my closest friend.

Won’t you miss them if you don’t return?

Aye, but I will miss you more if I do.

How can you be sure of that?

I know because I cared for another woman once—the breeding Nic who claimed me last springtide—and I felt like a crab with a missing claw after returning to my people.

His words punched her heart with such force she found it hard to breathe. Breaking free of his mouth, she looked down at him with tears in her eyes. “Oh, Kew-in. Are you still in love with her?”

“I might be, were she still alive,” he said with sadness in his eyes, “but she crossed over giving birth to my son. They both did.”

She brushed his hair back from his face. “I’m so sorry.”

“Death is a part of the cycle of life,” he said calmly. “Their souls will be reborn. Just as your father’s will.”

The mention of her dad tore at her heart. She could keep her head in the sand no longer. “Please tell me you had nothing to do with the sinking of
Nautilus
.”

“I wondered when this might come up…and why it had not before now.” He held her gaze. “I will not lie to you, Cordelia. I was there and, though I felt pity for him, I could do nothing to help. To do so is a capital offense in my culture. Any warrior who helps a human marked for death is impaled upon his own trident and left for the sharks to feed upon.”

She cringed at the image of his skewered body being torn to pieces by man-eating sharks. “How awful!”

“But also necessary to promote obedience.”

For reasons she could not comprehend, she didn’t hate him for the role he played in her father’s death. Her dad had to have known what Conch intended to do with the submarine drilling platform. How could he have designed it otherwise? In her mind, that made him a coward at best and a willing accomplice at worst. He’d conspired with his employers to harm the sea and break the law—crimes he’d paid for with his life.

Kew-in might be a barbarian, but at least he fought for his principles, which was more than anyone could say for her dad.

Taking the merman’s hand, she led him upstairs to the bedroom they’d slept in the night before. Lying on the bed, she urged him to join her. When he did, he wrapped his arms around her and rolled her over so he was on top. She locked her legs around his hips and tangled her fingers in his hair. She rubbed her pelvis against his, denim to denim, pleased to find him ready.

I want you inside me.

I want that, too.

Rolling off her, he sat up and stripped off his T-shirt, exposing his magnificent torso to her view. Tossing the shirt aside, he began to unfasten his fly. She stopped him with a hand.

“Lie back,” she said, “and let me.”

When he did as she bade, she straddled his thighs and, holding his scorching, heavy-lidded gaze, freed the metal buttons of his fly one by one. Reaching between the separated halves, she closed her fingers around his erection.

His breath caught and he gave her a sexy half grin that unleashed a flood of desire in her own jeans. That mouth, those eyes, and that hair. He wasn’t just handsome; he was a miracle of nature—a living, breathing demigod.

And, even better, he was hers. Or would be if they could find the magic herb that would allow him to stay on land.

She ran her free hand over the sculpted terrain of his chest. He smiled again and flexed his hips, reminding her of the treasure in her hand. Taking his left nipple between her fingers, she teased it to hardness as she stroked and squeezed his sex. His mouth formed a circle and a breath shuddered out of him.