Page 10 of Song of Lorelei

She rubbed the spot—three lines of rough, raised skin grazing against her palms—but it would not go away. And she had just applied medicated lotion maybe a half hour ago. Sighing, Lorelei squeezed more from the tube, expensive stuff her dermatologist prescribed her, and massaged it into the creases where her gills would be.

It wasn’t just her neck that was irritated. All over her skin was dry, and in some spots cracking, like on her hands and feet. If had been winter, and not the end of August, Lorelei might have chalked it up to the season. But it just seemed like her body couldn’t hold onto moisture anymore.

Ever since sirens had become a world-wide sensation almost a year ago, Lorelei had stepped neither foot nor fin into the ocean. Someone could see her. Identify her. And she had already come far too close—not just once, but twice—to that happening last year to take the risk. First, when Killian’s ex-girlfriend Carrie Prior trespassed onto his property and posted video footage of her swimming in siren form online. And second, when Lorelei saved a drowning boy, and his Go-Pro recorded the rescue. Only a combination of distance, dark turbulent waters, the help of her newfound Maine family, and a reporter friend’s subterfuge, had kept her secret safe.

Well, that, and Nireed’s sacrifice.

She would not take that risk again and make their efforts in vain.

Sitting back in her chair, Lorelei stared at the waves rolling into shore. She imagined herself gliding through the chill water, guided out into the open ocean by the currents. Even in the summer, ocean temps in Maine rarely climbed above 50 degrees. Its touch would be numbing to a human but brisk and enlivening against her own skin.

She missed the ocean so much her bones ached. She’d grown up away from it, but now that she’d had a taste of its freedoms and mysteries and dangers, she was hooked. She needed it like humans need sunshine in the dead of winter, possibly even more.

But she wanted her privacy and freedom above all.

She shuddered to consider how terrible the separation must feel for Nireed.

A door slammed shut outside, followed by a short beep.

Her heart raced a little. Lorelei hadn’t even heard anyone come up the driveway. It sounded like the locking mechanism for Killian’s truck, but what if it wasn’t? While Carrie hadn’t trespassed on Killian’s property since they threatened to get a restraining order against her, that wasn’t a guarantee she never would again, right? Lorelei wrung her hands, her joints aching, but otherwise remained frozen to the spot.

A Carrie confrontation was the last thing she needed today.

But Killian shuffled in through the doorway moments later with his sea bag slung over one shoulder and a paper pharmacy bag in his other hand.

Lorelei sighed with relief.

She didn’t know why the thought of Carrie coming onto their property made her anxious. She could bite that woman’s face off if she wanted to. Lorelei swallowed the saliva pooling in her mouth. Maybe that was why. Self-control wasn’t exactly her strong suit when she was tired and cornered.

If Carrie did come snooping around again, Lorelei probably would bite her face off.

“Hey, beautiful.” Killian smiled, setting down his cream canvas seabag. The corded muscles in his forearm flexed under the weight. He wore a black tee that hugged his biceps and pulled taut across his chest, tapering down to hug his waist. If any stretch of the fabric moved an inch, sun-bronzed skin would give way to white, but God, tan lines, and all, she loved looking at him. “How are you?”

Sliding from her seat, Lorelei padded barefoot across the cool hardwood floor. She wrapped her arms around his middle and sunk her head into his chest, firm beneath her forehead. Despite the summer temps, she basked in the comfort of his touch and his heady male heat. “Better now that you are here.”

The pharmacy bag bumped against her elbow as Killian slung an arm across her shoulders and cupped the back of her head, his fingers threading through the loosened, frazzled plaits of her fishtail braid. He laid his cheek on top, where a few strands of her hair were sure to get caught in the dark scruff that lined his jaw, but she loved being enveloped by him. He was a steadying force. “Work still kicking your butt?”

Lorelei grumbled nonsensical words. She didn’t have the energy to talk about her day. Work already took up enough space in her life and made her head want to explode. Killian squeezed her tight. “Made a detour after stopping by the pharmacy to pick up your medication and got you something.” He bumped the bag against her arm. “Take a look.”

Lorelei withdrew from his arms and opened it.

Inside, next to her scripts, was a red silk bag. The gold logo on the front denoted he’d paid The Pearl a visit, a fancy spa in town that drew the more well-to-do tourist crowds. She plucked loose the drawstring bow. A white orb marbled with blues and greens sat at the bottom.

Her lips quirked upwards. “Is this a bath bomb?”

“Yeah, the shopkeeper said it’s infused with sea salt and kelp extract or something.” He scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t remember exactly, but I thought it might help. It’s not the ocean, I know. Nothing can replace that, but maybe it’ll help?”

Hugging the bag to her chest, she stood up on her toes to give him a kiss. “That was really sweet of you. I can’t wait to try it.”

Twin rosy dots flushed his tanned cheeks. Even after almost a year of dating and an engagement, Killian still became bashful when she paid him compliments. “I can draw a bath for you after dinner.”

She glanced at her work bag, shoulders slumping.

Killian said her name firmly, his embarrassment forgotten. “You can work while I get dinner ready, but after that you need to take some time for yourself. You’re burning the candle at both ends. You’ve got to slow down.”

“I don’t want to fall behind…”

He placed his hands on her shoulders. “You’re in charge. You make the schedule, and the deadlines. If you need more time to get stuff done, take more time.”

---