Ocean of Love (17 page)

He opened his eyes, their breathing jagged
and loud in the room. “Unbelievable,” he whispered against her
cheek. “Baby, I’m so taken with you.”

“
You’re magical.” A crease
appearing between her brows. “What about you? Was it …
good?”

He kissed the side of her head, inhaling the
sweet smell of her. “If you like using understatements. I hope the
Earth and Heavens moved for you. They…” he kissed her lips
possessively, “definitely shifted in my world.”

Wyatt pressed his forehead to hers. He
closed his eyes, for once completely conscious; it felt as if he
could take an unobstructed breath. This was nirvana, being with
Marissa. He nuzzled her neck, wanting to remain in her arms, and
forget the world beyond.

Chapter Eleven

Marissa woke while it was still dark.
Wyatt’s arm was thrown over her shoulder, his legs entwined within
hers. His breathing was deep and slow, much like the breeze that
entered and retreated from the bedroom.

She released a sigh of supreme satisfaction
watching him sleep. The image of what it meant to make love with
him filled her. His hands and mouth and the male hardness of his
body had taken possession of her last night. This morning, she
tingled in bliss.

Not wanting to leave him,
she couldn’t stay either. In another hour, it would be too late for
her to reconnect to the sea. The draw to dive into the sea was
stronger in the afterglow of love-making, as though the ocean would
sanctify their joining. She couldn’t imagine coming upon a chance
to be so near the shore on a private beach
. Lucky in love
… she stopped, not
wanting to tempt fate.

Marissa eased to the side of the bed,
focusing on the rhythm of Wyatt’s breathing while he slept. She
stood but froze in mid step. He stirred, groaned, and settled back
against the pillows. She tip-toed around the room, stopping to pick
up articles of her clothing. Hesitating before opening the bedroom
door, she tightly held the doorknob. Her throat constricted; today
was their last day together. He was leaving tomorrow. She’d be back
before he woke but only if she actually left the room instead of
standing and staring at him. Once last glance back at Wyatt for
several seconds, and then she silently left the room.

Outside in the hallway near the landing, she
dressed in her shirt and panties. She moved downstairs and stood on
the terrace, facing the shore. She took a moment to gather her
bearings by listening to the waves. No voices, no unusual sounds,
only the ocean beckoning her back.

The sand was cold and moist under her feet.
She ran, increasing her speed, undoing the two buttons that kept
her shirt together. At the shoreline, ocean spray covered her,
making her skin itch and burn to be replenished by saltwater. She
removed her blouse and took off her underwear.

Her body had already begun transforming.
Thousands of iridescent scales connected over the surface over her
hips and buttocks, down her legs, and surrounding the tops of her
ankles. And now, her thighs started to knit together little by
little. A sign she must get into the water. Quickly.

Marissa balled up her clothes and tossed
them behind her. She’d not taken the time to get her beach bag. The
chilly wind whispered a greeting across her naked flesh. The space
between her legs ached for a second, reminding Marissa of the man
who waited for her. She stepped into the first wave. Brisk water
rushed toward her, swirling around her ankles, and she stepped
again. Her legs were nearly fused together down to her knees. The
waves rushed toward her, bringing seawater to the top of her
calves, and she hobbled, almost falling. The receding waves pulled
her forward. She skipped a couple of tiny steps before diving into
the water.

A column of saltwater engulfed her head,
shoulders, and down her back. By the time she kicked her legs, her
feet were changed to one turquoise and aqua fin at the end of her
tail. Beneath the waves, she swam without fear, riding the current
away from the shore. The sea, her second home, had always provided
an exhilarating freedom not found above water, imbuing her with a
sense of serenity. But today, there was a shifting hollowness
within her as she swam. A pair of bright blue eyes clouded her
vision and a tremor overtook and convulsed within her chest.
Fleeting images of Wyatt and the love-making they’d shared consumed
her thoughts.

She slowed, fluttering her tail and arms.
How could she share this part of her life with him? The question
confused her. She didn’t know what to think or feel. For a second,
she lost her bearings.

A powerful wave crashed into her, flipping
her sideways. Her body was slammed down against the shallow sea
floor. Something whooshed and skirted past her face. A blazing
sensation spread from her upper chest. She curled into a ball as
pain lanced from her shoulder, choking her. She fought against
expending her oxygen supply.

The stabbing pain grew stronger. Her upper
back and chest hurt worse from a searing agony that expanded,
gripping her from her shoulder downward into her bicep. She tried
to move her left hand. Impossible, her arm was a dead weight
floating limply near her body.

She clutched at her chest, running her right
hand upward and gasped, sending a flurry of bubbles into the water.
A large piece of metal was lodged near her collar bone. She allowed
the last few bubbles of air lodged deep within her lungs to buoy
her to the surface. Normally, she didn’t need to return so soon for
air, but she couldn’t concentrate, and her mind began to drift. She
broke the surface, dazed and sucked in a shallow breath. She
blinked, turning her face toward the shore, searching for the
flickering lights. The breeze licked at the droplets on her skin,
and she shivered uncontrollably.

She hesitantly touched her stinging wound.
Warm, slippery liquid squirted between her fingers. In the
moonlight, her fingers were crimson, covered with her own
blood.

The shore was not far off, but remaining
above the surface in the swelling waves consumed her energy. To
swim a few feet took heroic effort. She had no choice but to keep
struggling toward shore. Otherwise the rip-tide current would carry
her farther out to sea. She swished her tail and held her position
for a second, oscillating her tail back and forth to keep from
being carried farther from the beach. She pulled strands of her
hair free that were wrapped around her face and neck.

The moonlight was fading or was it her
vision? She tried to remain calm. She kept telling herself there
was nothing to frighten her. This is where she had been born, where
she’d spent her childhood, where she’d last seen her parents. She
choked back a tiny sob.

She adamantly refused to be undone. If
anything, she’d learned over the past day her dreams could come
true. She tightly held her desire to return to Wyatt and fed off
the strength of her love born this night.

When she raised her head, she released a
sound she’d not issued in years. A high-pitched song bounced off
the waves. Within seconds a flock of seagulls appeared above her
head. The birds cawed to her, flapping vigorously into the brisk
wind. A few brave gulls flittered above her head, trying to come
closer to the surface of the water. Strange tears dripped from
their dark red eyes. Never had she noticed birds cry in this
fashion and she closed her own eyes. The cawing of the gulls
increased, and one gull grabbed ahold of her hair, yanking hard
enough to scold her.

“
Ouch,” she murmured,
inhaling against the lethargy threatening to overtake
her.

Once more she called out, this time her
pitch and voice cracked. Her diaphragm couldn’t hold the notes. If
she’d been closer to shore, the sound of her high-pitched distress
would easily shatter crystal.

Within the water, the pitch moved as an
echolocation, traveling across the shallow depths and beyond,
bouncing off the shore in all directions. Again she called,
ensuring her message radiated from her location. Marine animals
equipped to discern sonar modalities were affected and reacted with
squeals and clicks and pops audible in the distance. Rapidly these
communications became a relay system from one to another as they
searched for Marissa.

Her head dipped under the waves as a dense
fog overcame her senses. Her thoughts were heavier than her body.
She sputtered, the pain increased, and she swallowed a mouthful of
seawater.

The water washed over her. Colder now. She
was so tired and her lids kept shutting.

Shimmering bodies surrounded her, sleek and
majestic, yet not one touched her. They wouldn’t until she gave
them permission.

“
Oh, so lovely,” she
murmured, and then imagined a smile and arms so strong they
promised to keep her safe. She reached out, the last bit of
strength leaving her, and she issued a high pitched
keen.

She shook her head to keep sleep from
overtaking her completely. A dolphin swam near her, and gently
nudged her good arm. Another dolphin’s sleek, silvery body swam
past, rippling the water around her.

Right next to her, the dolphin remained and
blew water from its blow hole. It was an alpha female and she
returned a chattering cry, insistent and concerned. Marissa lowered
her voice to a mere whisper of a pitch, until the dolphin bobbed at
the water’s line, staring as if waiting. The dolphin faced her,
rising out of the water; dark, intelligent eyes held Marissa’s
gaze. She whispered her need in an ancient exchange of sounds.

Marissa was hit by a wave that swallowed her
voice. Overcome by a strange, creeping tiredness, she fought to
stay alert. The fiery wound had grown less troublesome now that her
arm had turned prickly and numb. She blinked, fighting a dreamless
sleep. The dolphin prodded her hand, as though guiding her to take
hold of the dorsal fin presented.

The alpha’s angry clicks and squawks
summoned other dolphins to form a ring around her body, and became
a litter of conveyance across the waves. Marissa gazed up into a
pastel array of pink, blue, and golden rays cast over the sky
before she closed her eyes, reaching out to Wyatt, who stood
waiting for her in the waves.

Chapter Twelve

Streaks of golden sunlight filtered into the
bedroom. Wyatt inhaled deeply, enjoying his waking thought: a
passionate night welcomed an equally sensual day ahead. He rubbed
his eyes, blindly reaching across the bed and groaned. Coolness,
crisp sheets, and no Marissa.

A cry off in the distance tore into him. He
bolted upright in bed. His heart thudded and he scrubbed a hand
over his face, wondering if he’d been dreaming.

He put all thoughts aside except for finding
Marissa. He listened, yet only the flittering breeze swirling the
drapery accompanied him within the bedroom. Impatiently, he threw
back the sheets and swung off the bed. He stood at the open doors
in front of the terrace. This was a jewel of a setting. If only
Marissa were here to share this moment.

She must be downstairs. Man, she had him to
the point of no return last night. He laughed.

More than likely his little vixen was
hungry, he supposed, or thirsty. She’d need her strength. She’d
need all her resources for the things he planned on sharing with
her today, tomorrow. There was no end in sight.

He was not a complete stranger to having
women spend the night. But she was the first woman with whom he
wanted to share his life. He wanted her with him. All the time.
Without her, something was missing from him. There lay an essence
in Marissa that calmed him. A pressing ache stirred within his body
to find her.

Marissa
, he inhaled and continued toward the bathroom. Soon he’d
join her for a bite to eat. Then, after they’d begin another round
of love-making and he fully intended on exploring her whole body.
No matter how long it took.

Never had he imagined finding someone so
incredibly perfect. Her lack of experience only made her more
precious and sent a jarring jolt up his spine at the thought of
another man putting his hands on her. With her there lay a need to
possess and dominate. Not caveman-style exactly, but it was
physical. He desired to make her all his in short order.

Today he planned on remedying that aspect of
their life, not just in bed but in other ways that ensured she was
not far from him.

The idea of having to share Marissa—be it
her past, her future, and especially her present—didn’t sit well
with him. Neither for the fleeting second he’d entertained the idea
last night, nor this morning. The thought of sharing her was out of
the question. He’d settle that matter in record time, already
envisioning the engagement ring he’d have made for her. The
question of what to do with the South Beach property was easy
enough. No problem if he turned it over to his second-in-command.
That decision made sense and his project manager had already said
he wanted more responsibility. He snorted. The man had better be
careful of what he wished.

He was eager to discuss with Marissa which
direction to take in life. Travel, perhaps she’d like that.
Whatever she wanted, he would consider as long as they were
together.

He flipped on the bathroom light then turned
back and shut the door. He’d never considered what a woman thought
of him before. But he wasn’t exactly sure if returning to the
bedroom and encountering him in full stream would be less than
appealing for a young woman such as his Marissa.

Jesus, he bet she’d be sore.

His cock stood rock-hard from his body.
Christ, he didn’t want to scare her, but he desired her more today
than last night. He exhaled, remembering that he’d have to take
this slow and easy. Everything with Marissa was fresh and new. A
snap of excitement tore across his body.