Virginia Henley

A
s the perfectly formed, timeless shape of the rounded head emerged, still glistening with wetness, Emerald couldn’t take her eyes from it. Then came the rest of it, hard, silky, and cylindrical in shape.

He was extremely playful today, sliding up and down with an occasional backward thrust, defying gravity. He moved closer until they almost touched, begging, teasing, taunting, daring her to take him for the ride of her life.

Emerald could not resist the temptation to touch him for another moment. As she reached out and gently slid her fingers down his glistening skin, just under the head, without warning he sprayed her face. The warm, salty taste was so familiar, it delighted her. With one hand still holding tightly, she hoisted up her shift and lifted her body on top, straddling him with her bare legs.

They’d played this game many times before and he knew exactly what to do. He immediately rolled with her, putting her on the bottom, and himself on top, then rolled around again. He waited just long enough for her to catch one great breath, then with a powerful thrust he dived deep into the dark, wet, secret depths.

It was all Emerald could do to stay on the dolphin’s back while he plunged to the bottom of the cave’s deep tide pool, playing and sporting as they had done every day since they’d discovered each other.

*   *   *

S
ean FitzGerald O’Toole stood mesmerized at the entrance to the cavern. What he saw took his breath away and sent his imagination on a flight of fancy. The exquisite young female riding the dolphin must be an undine from a fairy tale who dwelt in this glittering crystal cave.

At first glimpse he thought her a child with her heart-shaped face surrounded by a cloud of charcoal smoke, which he finally realized was her hair. Then the short white shift she wore turned transparent as the sea drenched her, revealing her breasts, which looked to him like delicious firm fruit. It was then he decided the small-boned female must be close to sixteen because, though she was not yet a woman, she was tempting enough to physically arouse his firm young body.

When her laughter rippled around the high walls of the cavern like a cascade of silver bells, he thought he had never heard a more entrancing sound. The mythic pair obviously had a bond of love and trust and joy such as he had never before witnessed. He was filled with awe that he had chanced upon this place … this scene. Suddenly, the girl and dolphin disappeared beneath the water and he doubted the creatures had been anything but imaginary.

Sean’s dark eyes lifted to gaze upward, spellbound by the beauty he had stumbled upon. The high-vaulted cave glittered with iridescence, scattering myriads of rainbows across the surface of the water, turning it into a magic pool. Then his innate intelligence overruled his imagination as he realized he was on the Island of Anglesey, Wales. This mineral must therefore be anglesite, sulphate of lead in white prismatic crystals that were semitransparent, giving off an adamantine luster that resembled the sparkle of diamonds.

His natural curiosity came into play as he moved into the cave to examine its crystal walls more closely. Understanding
what gave the cavern its aura of enchantment did not diminish its beauty for him in any way. Rather, his silver eyes gazed upon its iridescent loveliness with the appreciation of a connoisseur.

Suddenly the spell was broken as the young nymph came spluttering to the surface, her long black hair plastered to her head and shoulders. She jumped off the sea creature’s back and swam to the edge of the rock pool, clambering onto the ledge, unmindful of scraped knees and her resemblance to a drowned rat. She was naught but a mortal lass. Sean blushed at his own foolishness.

As she impatiently swept her hands up to sleek the hair back from her eyes, her gaze fell upon the intruder. A pair of green eyes widened in the delicate, heart-shaped face as she stared at him with wonder. Her glance slowly moved over each feature of his face, then slid to his neck and wide shoulders. Her gaze moved across his bare chest as if she were tracing every muscle he possessed. Her emerald eyes examined him minutely, as if he were the first man she had ever seen.

Sean O’Toole was used to the sidelong glances of females who obviously liked what they saw when they cast their inviting eyes in his direction. But he was totally unused to being openly examined as if he were a young stallion at Puck horse fair.

“Who are you?” she demanded as if she were a queen on a throne in her crystal kingdom.

She watched his head go up with natural pride as he answered, “Sean O’Toole.”

Her face was transformed with delight. “Ooh,” she breathed, “you are Irish.” She said it with reverence, worshiping his face and form with her jeweled eyes. “My mother is Irish. I adore her! She’s a FitzGerald from Kildare and the loveliest lady who ever drew breath.”

Sean grinned at her. He knew who she was now. “My
own lady mother is a FitzGerald. We are related by marriage.” He sketched her a bow.

“Oh, how wonderful for you. That explains your great beauty!”

“My beauty?” he choked. And again, the nymph raked his body with her eyes.

    
E
merald examined that beauty again. She had never seen an unclothed male before. His torso was heavily muscled, but his sinew was covered with firm, youthful flesh. Her discerning eye appreciated the graceful curve of young cheek, wide shoulder, and lithe back. His skin was naturally olive, then tanned even darker by exposure to the sun. His white canvas breeches, cut off at the knees, were a stark contrast to his swarthy skin. His coal-black hair was a riot of curls and his eyes were a strange pewter color that shone silver in the cave’s unusual light. She had never seen anyone more beautiful in her young life and she was completely entranced by him.

“Let’s go into the sunshine where I can see you better.”

Bemused, Sean agreed, thinking it a fair exchange. He’d be able to see her breasts to much better advantage. As they walked from the cave side by side, he towered over her a good ten inches. When they stepped out onto the beach, bathed in full sunlight, Sean was suddenly ashamed of his impure thoughts. The exquisite young girl was totally un-selfconscious about her body. She had no notion that her white shift became transparent when wet. Her natural innocence was that of a child, but by the way she looked up at him with adoring eyes, he sensed that the first flutter of womanhood was upon her.

Like pagans they stretched out on the shell-strewn sand in the hot sun while they conversed. “You’ve ridden that dolphin before.” He said his thoughts aloud, still amazed at the performance.

“It’s a porpoise.”

“Same thing. Which only goes to show the English don’t know everything; they just think they do,” he teased.

“I’m only
half
English,” she said vehemently.

“And half mermaid. I’ve never seen dolphins in these waters before. They like warmer places like the waters off France and Spain.”

“This one obviously followed the Gulf Stream. Anglesey has extremely mild oceanic climatic conditions, which account for its early, warm spring.”

The corner of his mouth lifted. “You talk like a penny-book.”