Selkie's Song (Fado Trilogy) (11 page)

“Here,” she encouraged him as she lowered to the turf. “Get down on your stomach.”

He set the mando down, knelt beside her and then stretched out on his stomach with his chin resting on his hands. “You may as well know I’m not fond of frigid water either.”

“Are you saying you don’t swim?”

“I swim…like a rock.” Ty’s smile turned strained.

She didn’t care. His ability in the water was not her primary interest. Besides, she had once tried to have sex in a tide pool, and there was no denying the deleterious effects of cold water on a man.

Ty swallowed his trepidation. If hanging off this feckin’ rock meant he was gettin’ lucky tonight, it was well worth the risk.

Whomp
. A virtual slap to the side of his head would have knocked him flat had he not already been prone. He’d rekindled his acquaintance with Muireann less than twenty-four hours ago. He’d either lied to himself or to her about why he was here. A lie by omission, but still not the entire truth.

Ty had promised himself he wouldn’t deviate from his master plan. That plan, initially, did not include a woman—in his bed or his heart.

“What am I looking at?” he asked, trying to distract his carnal thoughts.

“You have to be patient. Watch the water, there, just beyond that solitary rock.” She nodded in the direction of a shallow pool.

Ty tried not to think of the churning blue water and the three hundred foot drop. He gamely pushed back the memory of being caught in the tide and dragged out to sea, the struggle, and then the giving up. Twenty years had passed, and he still remembered clearly his battle for the surface of the water.

“There. Do you see her?” Muireann whispered and pulled him back to the present.

Against the dark water, Tynan’s vision focused on a silvery streak. Just when he thought he had made out a form, it disappeared. Then there were two and in a moment a third silken and sleek creature appeared. “Seals?”

“Cool, huh? It’s a family.” Her voice caught. “I watched that pup being born right here on this strand. This is home to them. Harbor seals live in the same place all their lives.”

Muireann’s face softened and her lips turned up ever so slightly as she spoke of these animals. She reminded him of American girls’ reaction to puppies and newborn babies. The female need to nurture inspired an instinctual fear in the gut of most men, himself not included. When the time was right, Tynan would be more than ready for a nurturing female in his life.

She turned on her side, propped up on one elbow. Her expression hardened. “Seals follow the sound of fishing boats. So many seals are hurt or killed each year by careless fishing methods. Locals know this and take care.”

The two adults and the pup hauled out and readied for a nap in the sunshine. “This bunch seems to feel safe here.”

“Yeah,” she sighed and continued. “That’s why I want to keep big business interests out.”

“I don’t understand,” Ty admitted. “Seals have lived for centuries alongside fishing boats. What’s changed?”

“The economy or perhaps simply greed.” She looked straight in his eyes. “If industrial fisheries are allowed in here, this family will be gone. I won’t be able to protect them. The large nets will trap and strangle them, the food supply will dwindle…They’ll starve.”

Ty questioned that thinking. “Aren’t there plenty of fish to go around?”

Muireann’s jaw clenched. “Industrial fisheries overfish sand eels for animal feed and fertilizer. Greenpeace calls the practice ‘Hoover fishing’…a clean sweep.”

“Sand eels?”

“Right. And these little fish are the main food source for harbor seals, and seabirds as well. Everything’s tied up in the ecosystem of the sea. It’s a domino effect. The most profitable fish are also the ones the seals need to survive. Without sand eels, this cove, this strand, it’ll be empty.”

Ty loved her passion for this crusade but couldn’t see how things could change. “What can one person do?” This was the adult Muireann. The girl had become a woman with serious interests. She took some getting used to.

She closed her eyes and shook her head. “I want this to be designated a marine protected area.”

“Seems that’s going to be a hard sell with Ireland’s economy tanking and high unemployment,” Ty suggested. “Is there some sort of compromise?”

Muireann sat up and hung her long legs off the rock edge. She turned to him. “I’m not an impetuous child anymore, Tynan. If you knew me, you would realize I’m not inclined to compromise when it’s a matter of saving something or someone I love.”

Tynan could indeed sense her instinct to fight to the death for justice…or love.

“I stopped a whole damn oil company from setting up a rig offshore right there.” She pointed toward the horizon, then turned and gave him an ebullient smile. “Me and my mates. We camped out here and made the oil company’s lives a living hell until we got enough attention in the media.”

“You amaze me.” Truly she did. When she talked about saving seals, her love for the sea, when he saw her passion in the pottery she created, Muireann had that same charisma he had admired last night in O’Malley’s when she sang.

She was zealous about things she loved and, if he was any judge, she would be just as exciting as a lover.

He scolded himself for thinking with his gonads yet again, but just as quickly gave himself a break. After all, they were adults now.

She lifted the mandolin case from where it lay on the grass and stood. Then she bent and took his hand in hers urging him to stand beside her. Tynan snuck an arm around her waist—a little move, a touch, just to see how she might react. He told himself it was just innocent, like a tiny bite of a forbidden sweet.

He breathed the scent of her hair, a subtle herb he couldn’t place. Whatever it was drained the blood from his frontal lobe and directly into his favorite extremity, which he fondly referred to as Himself.

“Am I so unusual?” She curved her body into him. Himself took special note of her breasts, soft as well as firm. “Have you ever looked into the eyes of a harbor seal? You cannot deny they have knowledge we humans can only hope to understand.”

Though Ty really tried to concentrate on her global virtue, he had now completely lost focus. The sun had traveled west, casting an aureate glow on the water. A chill gust of wind swept up the wall of black rock.

Muireann didn’t seem to notice the cold or Ty’s hand, millimeters from her backside, as he led her a short way from the edge of the drop.

He settled into a flat granite slab big enough to be a four-poster bed and pulled her to sit beside him. Heat from the many hours of sunlight radiated from the inner core of the rock. “Gotta wonder what events might have taken place here,” Ty pondered aloud.

“Locals call this
an
Leaba Leannán Sí,”
Muireann told him. “The bed of the fairy lover.”

“Ah, then, how many lads might have lost their innocence on this very spot?”

Muireann patted the rock surface. “Yeah, and who got to be on top?” She gave him a lopsided grin.

Who indeed?
The visual sent a hot bolt of need through his body.
“
The tales he would tell back at the pub.”

“So, Ty,” Muireann purred and ran a finger across his mando case in a way easy to visualize her touching various parts of him, “are you going to carry that mando all over the west counties just to look cool or are you planning on playing it?”

“Are ya askin’ for a tune, like?” he said in his best
culchie
accent and reached for his mandolin, brushing her hand lightly with his fingers. He hadn’t seen a spark jump from her hand and arc to his fingers, but felt a jolt, if not electricity, certainly its close cousin. Whatever it was tingled through him and set his imagination spinning off to erotic destinations.

“Go ahead. Impress me.”

“Sure, now, and why not?” He settled the instrument, caressed the wood, stroked the curve of its lines, imagined Muireann fondled thus.

“You hold that mando as though it’s a woman in your hands,” Muireann suggested.

“She’s a poor substitute for the real thing.” Ty picked out a melody that had been rattling around in his head. Last night he had been unable to sleep with it tickling his brain. His fingers, unable to stroke Muireann’s body, had found fulfillment in his imagination and the music reminiscent of her mystery.

“That’s not a tune I’ve heard,” she said. “And I’ve heard them all.”

Ty raised one brow and kept playing. “A bit of a song that came into my head last night.” He bridged to another key. “I’ll bet you know this one.” Ty cleared his throat and sang.

“
Is cosúil gur mhaeath tú…
”

Muireann tilted her head, smiled, and joined him. “...
nόgur thréig tú an greann…
”

They sang every verse of “An Mhaighdean Mhara,” a tale of love lost, a mermaid returned to the sea. Muireann closed her eyes and became the vessel of transport for the traditional Irish lyrics.

When Tynan played the last chord, a little smile on her full, just-licked lips sent his mind to places with little room for expansion.

“Great song,” she said. “Wouldn’t the man have been better off if he’d left her in the sea?”

“Perhaps, but then we wouldn’t have a song about his broken heart.” Ty tucked the mando back into its case and stood. He offered Muireann his hand and helped her to her feet.

“Are you telling me, Muireann O’Malley, you don’t believe in taking risks for love?” he whispered, tangling his fingers into the hair at her nape. “Have
you
never broken any hearts like the mermaid in that old tune?”

“Hmm…well, now, I might have.”

He listened to her breathe, and with every breath, his need for her wound tighter and begged for release. Ty touched the smooth skin of her throat where her pulse accelerated under his fingertips. He wanted to kiss her, but this was not the place. He would have to keep the tension all the way back to her cottage unless they went right to it here on the
Leaba Leannán Sí
. Somehow getting himself bare-arsed out here in the cold didn’t sound like the best way to impress her.

“What about you, Ty?” She leaned back and watched his eyes. “Have you ever had your heart broken?” She placed her hand on his chest and ran a finger down his breastbone. Electricity sizzled between them.

He barely had the breath left to respond. “Not yet.”

****

The sun was in its relentless pursuit of the western horizon as Muireann and Tynan walked from the car to the door of her cottage.

She hoped they wouldn’t startle Cú and have him wake to think Tynan an intruder. Muireann wanted this man whole and healthy.

Tynan bent and extracted the door key from the flower pot. “Why bother to lock your house when everyone knows where you hide the key?”

“Everyone who knows where it is also knows they’re welcome anytime. My hound is none too fond of strangers when I’m not around.” In truth, the worn latch hadn’t held in years. She locked her door only to keep it from swinging open with the slightest breeze.

Tynan put the key in the lock, but before he lifted the latch, he turned Muireann to face him. “One question,” he breathed in a whisper Muireann was sure he had used on many a besotted girl.

“Sure, now, ask away,” she replied and searched his face.

“Is yer hound gonna bite me bollocks off?” A mischievous half grin lifted his lips.

“He just might.” Muireann laughed and then in mock sobriety asked, “Is it worth the risk?”

“Hmm…let’s see.”

One hand slid up her back, pressed her to him, and brushed her lips with his as though tasting a new and exotic morsel.

The touch on her mouth ignited a spark that ran from Muireann’s lips straight to her girl parts.

His hand traveled up her back and settled between her shoulder blades, pressing her close to his chest where she could feel the steady thump of his heart.

“Is that all the sampling you need?” The words barely passed her vocal chords when the tasty visual of him naked in her bed disjointed her knees. She wanted, needed, more of him, but in the back of her mind, a warning pealed.
Don’t take this too fast.

He hadn’t read her thoughts.

With his hand tangled into her hair, he held her firm and drew her to him again. Starting at the corner of her lips, he nibbled his way across her mouth and cheek. He tasted, taunted, and teased his way to her ear. “I think it’s worth the risk,” he murmured as he pushed the door open behind her.

If he hadn’t had his hands on her, she would have fallen backward over Cú, who lay snoring in the entry. “Ah, step very softly. We don’t want to wake him,” she said in a breathless whisper.

“Uh huh.” And as though dancing, he moved her toward the center of the parlor, where he kissed her again. This time he held nothing back. His mouth savored hers as his tongue ran languorously across her bottom lip, prompting her to open to him.

Her limbs turned boneless. This wasn’t supposed to happen. She had wanted to be in control. Thoughts spun but made no sense. The only solid reality was Tynan’s body pressed into hers, his lips, tongue, and breath possessing her. “Muireann.”

“Hmm?”

“I remember now why I could never forget you. You’re a great kisser.” As he spoke, he moved her until the edge of the sofa pressed behind her knees. “I could be at great risk here.”

“Why?”

“You might not be Muireann at all. You could be a shape-shifter. The same creature I saw through my jet-lagged imagination a day ago. You’ll have your way with me and then slither back into your selkie skin and disappear into the mist beyond the sea. The mortal Muireann would know nothing of it.” Her legs folded beneath her, and in one deft move, he had her cradled in his arms and lowered to the cushions.

“I guess that’s a chance you’ll have to take,” she said, her fingers tracing a line from his jaw to his collarbone. She focused on his mouth in a vain attempt to pull her attention from the hardness she felt where her hip pressed into his pelvis. The man had been blessed.

Think lips,
she commanded herself. He had lips to die for. They’d improved with the years. Full, firm, sensuous lips that felt fabulous on her mouth and, she imagined, a few other tender spots. The visualization paralyzed her. Herself naked, legs splayed over the edge of her bed, Tynan kneeling between them, his tongue teasing her until she cried for him to fill her. Then, pulling him into her…
Go way outta that.