Сандра Паул – Caught By Surprise (страница 2)

Not only was his physical health failing, but his mental health seemed to be deteriorating as well. Her heart ached as his once agile mind struggled to separate reality from illusion. She fought despair as he insisted on relentlessly searching the seas for the mythical beings that only existed in his confused brain.

She had long given up trying to make him abandon his hunt. All she wanted anymore was for him to be happy. So she wore evening gowns during their early dinners every day just to see a faint look of pleasure on his gaunt face. She tried to appreciate Ralph and his ridiculous, food-related compliments. And if her father wanted her to look at his mysterious fish and report back to him, then that’s what she would do.

Finally reaching the last step, she paused to glance over at the tank and the massive filter pump humming beside it. She’d hoped to check the fish out from the staircase. Since the tank was constructed of the same clear, indestructible acrylic as those used at public aquariums, she could usually see through it quite easily. But not this time.

The lighting wasn’t the problem. The electric lamps scattered along the walls couldn’t erase the shadows in the cavernous room, but a porthole cut high near the ceiling provided more than enough light to see. Even this late in the afternoon, the sunlight shone down through the thick, round window just like a spotlight, sparkling on the water below.

No, the real problem had been caused by the sea animal. It had churned the water—already disturbed by the pitching of the ship—into such a foaming whirlpool that only brief glimpses of its golden tail could be seen as it glided past.

“Darn it,” she muttered, making a face. “I’ll have to get closer.”

Lifting her skirt higher, she made her way across the slimy floor, carefully stepping around the biggest wet patches. “What on earth is in there?” she wondered aloud as she neared the tank. She paused a couple yards away, trying to peer through the frothing water. Not a dolphin, she decided. Nor a seal, either.

It had to be some kind of shark.

She wasn’t quite sure why she thought so. She’d certainly never heard of a golden shark. Yet, there was something about the way the creature moved, a lethal menace in its sensuous glide through the water, that reminded her irresistibly of those deadly sea predators.

A sudden thought made her pulse leap. Could it be a mutant shark, maybe? Now that would be a discovery—maybe a big enough discovery to restore her father’s reputation.

Budding hope replaced her reluctance. Moving right up to the side of the tank, she strained to see through the thick acrylic. A low, wooden platform hovered only a few feet over the surface of the water, but no way was she climbing up on that. With her luck, she’d fall in and the big fish would chomp her to bits.

The creature whipped by again. Her skin prickled, but she ignored her body’s instinctive reaction to the danger the shark represented, refusing to back away. It couldn’t get her here, after all—it was trapped in the tank. Besides, maybe it wasn’t a shark but just a large tuna or an oversize sea bass. Anxious to find out, she wiped off the condensation that had built on the walls with her palm, creating a small clear circle. Again the creature swept past. Again, all she caught was a blur of movement. “Darn! What is it?”

Determined not to miss it again, she flattened her nose against the tank—and froze.

“Good heavens!” A man was in there with the creature! Floating right before her eyes, less than two feet away!

His dark hair billowed out gently in the water creating an incongruously soft frame for a profile that wasn’t soft at all. High cheekbones, a bony jaw, an imperious high-bridged nose—the dominant cast of his features gave him the look of a Roman warrior. But his golden, suntanned skin, his broad, muscular shoulders—those were pure California surfer.

She gestured frantically to get his attention. “What are you doing? Are you crazy?” she demanded, her throat tight with alarm. “There’s a giant, scary—something—in there! You have to get out!”

She knocked on the tank and he turned his head. Beth sucked in a breath as his gaze locked with hers. His eyes… Never before had she seen such mesmerizing eyes. They were blue. Not an indeterminate blue like her own, but rather a true midnight. So dark as to appear almost black. So fathomless, she could feel the fine hairs prickle on the back of her neck as he looked deep into her soul.

For endless seconds they stared at each other through the slowly surging water. Then she wrenched her gaze away, swallowing to ease her dry throat.

He simply continued to watch her, not appearing concerned at all. Was he some kind of daredevil perhaps? Or a Greenpeace activist? Who was he? Not that it mattered, she thought in rising panic. Whoever he was, he had to get out of that tank before the mutant shark got him!

Her growing alarm must have been reflected on her face, because for the barest second, his enigmatic expression changed. Was it disdain—contempt?—that flashed across his face? Beth couldn’t be sure…and she forgot the question as he slowly swept his hand downward.

Instinctively, she followed the movement. Her gaze drifted down past his broad shoulders to his muscular chest, lingered for a second on the silver medallion lying against his golden skin, then dropped even lower to his washboard stomach and lean masculine hips. They were encased in some kind of odd, glittery suit, she realized, as he shifted slightly. A scaled suit. A golden scaled suit that covered his legs, his ankles, even his feet and ended in a…

Tail?

The mutant’s tail—golden and glittering. But not a mutant shark’s as she’d first surmised, but rather a mutant man’s. A mythical man described in ancient legends, the kind of being her father had been hunting for years. To be precise, a creature who was half fish, half human.

A merman.

Chapter Two

No— Yes! It couldn’t be…but it was! The evidence was floating right before her eyes. Beth felt dazed, unable to look away from that unbelievable tail. Logic and disbelief warred in her brain, freezing her in place. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.

But he could. Her wide gaze grew even wider as the man—the fish—the whatever he was—suddenly shot to the surface of the tank. He hovered there a moment looking down at her…then turned and slapped his tail, sending a large wave lapping over the side.

Drenching Beth completely.

“Omigosh!” The shock of the icy water broke her paralysis. She turned to run, almost tripping over the sodden skirt of her gown as she stumbled back toward the staircase. She lost one shoe, then the other. She didn’t care. Not about that or how slimy the floor felt. Or the way the cold metal steps seemed to burn her bare feet as she scampered up them. Sheer blind panic—triggered by a primitive fear of the unknown—had her in its grip. All she cared about was getting away from that fish-man. Out of the gloom to safety.

She’d almost reached the top of the staircase when something grabbed her dress, yanking her to a halt. Him? Free of the tank? Her heart jumped into her throat. Clinging to the rail for support, she glanced behind her.

Her skirt had snagged on a rusty screw.

With a gasp of relief, she tore free. She fell, bruising her knee, but immediately scrambled up and kept going, running out the door, slamming it behind her. She took two steps—then paused.

The lock. She’d promised her father she’d relock the door.

Whirling around, she spun the combination until it clicked to a halt, then hurried off to her father’s stateroom. She tried to walk, but her steps kept quickening until at last—finally!—she burst through his door.

Carl Livingston stared at her across an expanse of plush maroon carpet. Alarm flashed across his gaunt face, and he struggled to sit up in his bed. “Elizabeth! My goodness, child, you’re all wet!”

Then he saw her expression. He stilled, leaning on his elbow with his eyes fixed on hers. “So it’s true—Ralph wasn’t mistaken.” His voice sounded oddly hushed. “We caught a mermaid.”

Beth shivered. “Actually,” she said, wrapping her arms around her waist to still her shaking, “you caught a mermale.”

Light flared in Carl’s sunken eyes. For a few precious seconds wonder eased the lines of suffering around his mouth and brow. “I knew they were out there,” he declared almost dreamily, his thin cheeks flushing with rare color. “I first sighted one in these very waters—a beautiful female with long, dark hair floating on the waves. Nearly twenty years ago it was, only a few months after your mother died…” His voice trailed off on the final sentence. A spasm of pain crossed his features and he fell back against the pillows, coughing.

Beth glanced around the room, and realized her father’s nurse must have gone to the galley for her dinner break. “I’ll go get Anne,” she said, turning back toward the door.

Carl’s voice stopped her. “No,” he wheezed, still coughing sporadically, but shaking his head. “Stay here. We need to talk.”