Marriage & the Mermaid (Hapless Heroes) (27 page)

“And the sooner we can fuck!”

Rand shook his head at her enthusiasm but he said, “Yes,” and she clapped her hands.

“You might want to get dressed before you leave,” he told her, and pointed to the bikini she’d dropped onto the cubicle floor when he’d kissed her.

She jumped forward to retrieve it and put it on, getting delightfully confused when the top wouldn’t do up because she’d ripped it in her hurry to get it off.

He stepped in to help her, reorganizing the strings and pulling them hard to secure the new knot. “Okay, you’d better go,” he said and opened the cubicle door.

“I don’t want to,” she said, and he could imagine the pout as she walked out behind him.

“You do if you want me to fuck you again,” he said, back on familiar ground, bartering sex for what he needed.

But the moment she stepped around in front of him and looked up at him with those big beautiful eyes he knew this wasn’t business as usual, and something uncomfortably warm shifted inside his chest. He tried to ignore it and concentrate on the details. “If Ted introduces us, pretend you’ve never met me, okay.”

“Okay.” But she hesitated, just as reluctant to leave as he was to see her go. “You’ll definitely come here after dark?”

“I promise,” he said, and nodded towards the front of the cabana. “Just peek out before you leave to make sure no one sees you were in here.”

“I will… peek,” she said, and stayed where she was.

“Go, Venus,” he said, pointing at the door. “And remember, if I’m still in the house when Baz gets back from the picnic you have to keep him busy so he doesn’t know I’m there.”

She nodded, but it was still another thirty seconds before she stepped to the door and cracked it open to scan outside. Then she pulled the door wide, accidentally knocking Rand’s briefcase over.

She stopped and picked it up but Rand was onto her in a second snatching it out of her hands. “I’ve got that,” he said, far too loudly, then he quietened himself down and said, “Sundown,” before steering her out the door and closing it behind her.

When she was gone he opened the briefcase to check that the ‘insurance’ was still inside. Stupid, when she’d only held it for a moment, but Rand was inexperienced with guns and this one was freaking him out. For a moment he considered hiding it among the towels, or taking out the bullets so he could use it for its threat value alone. But the stakes were too high.
Saltwood
was worth killing for and Rand had to protect himself.

He could only hope it wasn’t worth dying for.

Chapter Thirty–Two

B
az stood the study doorway trying to rein in his temper. Wynne was beside him and he was holding her hand, because he’d been doing that all morning and he didn’t want her to think he was hiding their relationship. Unfortunately his father was smirking at their joined hands as if Baz was holding a porn magazine. Baz wanted to slap him.

“Dad, are you listening to me?” Baz snapped.

“What did you say?” Ted asked, his smirk drifting across to Wynne.

“You’ve never met Glenda’s niece,” Baz repeated stiffly, wishing this wasn’t important, wishing he could just
go.
“How do you know she’s trustworthy?”

Ted looked down at the papers on his desk and shifted them around. Thankfully the smirk faded. “If Glenda has food poisoning …” he said absent. Then he shrugged and looked around aimlessly for a couple of seconds before adding, “She can nominate someone else to fulfill her duties. So long as the house is cleaned —”

“On the designated day. I know.” Baz felt Wynne squeeze his hand in encouragement, and his anger slid down into frustration. “But this…
Betty
is wearing pink leather, and she looks about sixteen.”

Wynne’s hand squeezing abruptly stopped and he glanced at her to see her frowning.

His father distracted him by saying, “Does she know how to clean?”

Baz swallowed down
How would I know?
and instead he said, “I assume —”

“Did you ask her?”

Baz felt the pulse at his temple start to throb, but thankfully Wynne cleared her throat and smiled at his father. “Betty says she’s keen to do a good job, Theodore. And Baz rang her aunt to confirm her story.”

Ted transferred his gaze to his son. “Then why are you bothering me?”

“I’m not sure,” Wynne said and glanced down at the carpet in front of her.

Baz felt bad then. He hadn’t meant to sound as if he disliked Betty, but he’d clearly got Wynne off–side. He squeezed her hand but she didn’t squeeze back, and was keeping her attention on the floor.

He forced himself to take a long slow breath and try to sound gracious when he turned back to his father. “Thanks for suggesting the picnic lunch, dad. I know you mean well.”

Ted nodded, “Go then,” he said and waved him away, then he glanced behind Baz and nodded.

Baz turned to find Carlos standing behind him, nodding back at his father. “What’s going on?” he asked, feeling the same way as he had when the police and his father had been laughing together. Wynne let his hand go.

“Carlos is going on a dump run,” his father said, still looking at Carlos with what appeared to be a perfectly calm expression. “He always checks in with me before he leaves in case I have anything to add to the load.” Ted transferred his gaze to Baz. “I don’t.”

“Okay.”

Wynne was back looking at the carpet and Baz realised that if he didn’t concentrate on her and forget all this inconsequential stuff, he’d lose the good thing they’d developed. He still felt as if he was missing something, but he said, “We’ll get going then. I’m really looking forward to spending time with Wynne.”

She glanced up at him and smiled with relief, which suddenly made him wonder if her anxiety had been about Betty being mistreated, or whether she’d been worried about another blow up between father and son.

Ted waved them away again. “I’ll get Betty to make me a sandwich for lunch, and to put away something for dinner if you’re back late. If I need anything else, Carlos will be here.”

“Fine,” Baz said. “I’ll give Venus the day off then.” His father’s eyes narrowed but Wynne tugged his arm and he let himself be led away.

When they were down the hallway and out of earshot Wynne said, “If you’d rather not go —”

“Nothing…” he said, turning to take both her hands, “… is going to stop me going on a picnic with you Miss Malone,” and he allowed himself a long slow perusal of the pretty halter neck sundress she was wearing. It had a frill around the neckline and was made of some sort of pink floral material that hugged her skin. He was pretty sure she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath it, and that excited him far more than was seemly when they hadn’t even kissed, but Baz was okay with that. Venus had taught him that he had heroic self control, and the last thing he wanted to do was rush Wynne and spoil things.

That said, today he was kissing her, and nothing was getting in the way of that!

Chapter Thirty–Three

L
iam Moore was rarely lost for words, but Traci Knowles seemed to push buttons he didn’t know he had.

“Come in,” she said, toweling her hair dry. “I’m just about to get changed.”

On the outside of the sliding door, Moore was having trouble rolling his tongue back into his mouth. “The shark,” he said, and ran out of conversation.

Nothing if not articulate.

“I’ve been on the QUT boat this morning,” she said, and gestured for him to follow her into her lab. “They dropped me off on their way north.”

“Shute Harbor,” Moore said, still only managing another two words as he followed her bikini clad body down the hallway. For a small woman she had long legs.

“I’ve got something to show you,” she said over her shoulder.

Liam nodded, not sure what he’d gotten himself into. She was so direct. But that didn’t stop him following her, his face growing redder by the minute. If she was about to seduce him… well a man could hope.

“In here,” she said, leading him into the room they’d been in last time with the stainless steel surfaces. He looked around, confused for a moment, then followed her to the desk.

“New information. Just in,” she said and pointed a finger at a manila folder. “Have a look.”

“Right,” Moore said, and sat at the desk to open the file. Disappointment warred with frustration to get the upper hand. Stupid overactive imagination. “It’s about fish.”

“What did you expect?” she said.

With any other woman, Moore would have imagined that was teasing, but Traci Knowles wasn’t like any other woman he’d ever met. She seemed to have no idea of her effect on him. Still, he was damned if he was going to look when he was blushing like a schoolboy. “What do these diagrams mean?”

“The DNA of that scale you sent me is mammalian, not cetacean.”

Was she trying to make him look dumb? “Meaning?”

“It’s a new species of… creature,” she said, “Not human. Not fish. Something… different.”

He did glance at her then, and it was clear that the tension he’d been sensing in her was excitement. “So it’s… ?” He shook his head, having difficulty comprehending.

“Natural mutation? A throwback?” She sounded like a little girl on Christmas morning. “And not only that,” she added, “your shark
is
big. The QUT team have a satellite picture of it breaching. It’s at least thirty foot. Looks exactly like a Megalodon.”

Moore felt horror and despair in equal portions, but for some reason Traci’s eyes were alight with fanatical zeal. “And you’re happy about this because… ?”

“Jesus, Moore, wake up! It’s like getting a photo of the Loch Ness Monster.”

“And the scales are off… what?”

“Dunno. Maybe a symbiont that travels with the shark.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

“Something prehistoric?” he asked. “Something else from 25 million years ago?” Moore was starting to feel like he needed someone to wake him up. “What exactly is going on?” he asked.

She leant over the desk, her small breasts straining against her bikini top, to look him right in the eye. God help him, even at a moment like this, it turned him on. “With a bit of luck I’ll be receiving the Nobel prize for biology this year,” she said. “Guess I’ll be moving to a more prestigious research facility.”

Okay. He could see where her interests lay. “I meant whether the blue scale creature is a danger as well,” he asked, determined to keep his eyes on her face. “People are dying out there.”

“This is so much more important than one person’s death.”

“Seven now,” he corrected.

“Whatever.” She pulled out a chair to sit opposite, and he’d been about to reprimand her cavalier attitude — she had to be autistic — when he noticed her hands were shaking. “You mustn’t tell anyone,” she added.

Moore looked at her incredulously. “We have to clear the beaches ASAP.”

“And cause panic? Not to mention drawing every trophy angler in a dingy within a hundred kilometers.” She shook her head. “Announcing that there’s a giant shark off the coastline will encourage more people out deep where it can get them. At the moment the majority of people in the water are in the shallows where it can’t go. The university team will get it if you leave them alone,” she said. “Two days, maybe three at the most.”

“You just want me to trust you on this?” The moment the words were out of his mouth, Liam realised he wanted to. Badly.

“I know the risks,” she said calmly. “I can guess its patterns. This is the best way. That’s my professional opinion.”

He stared at her, trying to sort it out in his mind, and was surprised when she added, “Please. You have no idea how important this is.”

He softened his tone. “No I don’t. So tell me, the blue scale creature and the shark are what… a mutation? Result of a toxic waste spill?”

She frowned. “The Island of Doctor Moreau could be off our coastline, complete with a crazed genetic scientist…”

“Or?”

“It’s far more likely that marine species are evolving in a completely unpredicted way.”

“That’s your Nobel prize ticket.”

Traci nodded.

“And my suspect?” he asked. “The five foot ten girl? She had blue scales on her fingernails.”

Traci squirmed. “Could be an experimental subject, I suppose.”

“Which blows your Nobel Prize out of the water and means we need to start looking for a mad scientist.” Waikeri had to hear that, and soon. It was time to get the CIB involved. If fish women and giant sharks were being created, what was next? “Who have you told about this DNA thing?” he asked.

“No–one yet —”

Moore’s mobile rang and he said, “Let’s keep it that way for now.”

“But the university team —”

He held up a hand and moved away from the table. “Moore,” he snapped, and turned his back on Traci.

“Just making sure you’re not at Saltwood. Where are you?”

Moore filled Waikeri in on Traci’s findings.

“So the skinny–dipping housekeeper could be a mutant, and the shark’s a prehistoric monster?”

Moore ignored the sarcasm. “I want that girl.”

Waikeri sighed.
“All right. Go.”

“Search warrant?”

“I’ll get it. You just make sure you get the sample this time. And tell your biologist girlfriend to be ready to test it.”

Moore turned back to Traci. “I’m getting a sample of scale off the girl. Don’t tell anyone about the DNA until I get back.”

If there was a mad scientist out there, Moore didn’t want to tip him off that they were onto him.

“Is this your big blond bully persona?” she asked. “I have to tell the QUT team what they’re dealing with or —”

“That’s not a request, Dr Knowles. It’s a police directive.”

Traci glared at him a moment then stood and walked away, reaching behind her back to untie her bikini. “I’ve got work to do,” she said. “You know where the door is.”

Liam knew he’d been rude, but damn it, he didn’t have time to argue. And besides there was no way he could stay inside that small building with her while she changed clothes without making a complete fool of himself. He had to go, but as he closed her sliding front door behind himself and walked over to his four wheel drive, he knew their date tonight was off, and probably any chance of the relationship he’d been fantasizing about.