Page 11 of The Tides of March

“We could share.” Tony patted the mattress next to him, wiggling his brows. “It’ll be cramped and I might end up spooning with you, but I wouldn’t mind.”

Another shudder passed through Ronan at Tony’s words. But this time, it was accompanied by a heady warmth that pooled in his core and made him hungry. “I’ll pass,” Ronan said gruffly as he rose and went to get his coat off the hook.

He was suddenly too warm and it was getting harder to breathe inside the cottage. All Ronan could smell was Tony’s alluring scent and it was dangerous, inviting a merrow into your bed. That was like inviting a vampire to cross your threshold and could have far more serious implications if Ronan accepted.

“Where are you going? You just said it was getting worse out,” Tony complained but Ronan was considering a dip in the sea to cool himself off.

“Think I heard somethin’ outside and I need some fresh air. Let’s go,” Ronan said and gave a quick whistle, calling the dogs to attention. All but Myrtle were keen for another outing and Ronan suspected that she’d be back on the bed with Tony as soon as his back was turned.

“Fresh air?” Tony looked skeptical.

“Mind yer business and enjoy yer books. Want me to put on a record?” Ronan offered, gesturing at the old Emerson record player.

“No. I want to be able to hear if a sea monster gets you,” Tony said and stuck his tongue out at Ronan.

“I’ll tell him ye said hello. Be back soon.”

With that, Ronan escaped the cottage and set out for another long walk. He needed to clear his head and forget Tony’s offer. It was hard enough, controlling his merrow impulses from across the room, but Ronan felt weak every time he touched the beautiful younger man. The desire to claim Tony and bind their souls would be too intense if Ronan spent even a hour that close to him, let alone an entire night sharing a bed.

Ronan had never mated with another being before, but he had been warned about the consequences. And he knew his own heart and that it welcomed trespassers just as kindly as Ronan did to his island.

“Yer meant to heal him and send him on his way,” Ronan scolded himself. “Don’ go lookin’ for trouble or heartache and they won’ find ye.”

Five

Despite spending nearly the entirety of his adult life as a student and working at Georgetown, the campus felt like a foreign land when Tony finally returned to work the following Monday. The few faculty members he crossed paths with welcomed Tony back with brief, but cheerful hugs and high fives and several students said they were glad to see him.

But Tony couldn’t help noticing the disappointed looks that passed over most of his students’ faces when he entered the lecture hall and the hopeful glances whenever the door opened.

“Good morning. It looks like we’re discussing how human evidence is collected and the importance of repatriation,” Tony began and turned down the lights and pressed the spacebar on his laptop, beginning the slide show.

He’d written this module years ago as a TA and had lost count of how many times he’d presented it. Tony wasn’t at all surprised when his mind drifted away from the lesson, back to Pooles Island. The terrible aching in his gut and the steady nausea were constant reminders but Tony had woken up in the middle of the night, soaked in sweat, after a terrible nightmare about Ronan so the merrow was even more of a distraction than usual.

In his dream, Ronan was fighting a tentacled, one-eyed giant and was nearly defeated by the beast. Visions of Ronan, battered and welt-covered as he crawled over a dune haunted Tony as he discussed methods of evidence collection. A young woman in the front raised her hand and Tony was on autopilot as he answered, just tuned in enough to seem competent.

Tony didn’t know if it was a relapse from the first attack or if Ronan was actually in trouble, but he hoped the stubborn merrow had enough sense to call someone if he was. As mad as Tony was about how things had ended between them, he didn’t want Ronan to come to any actual harm. And despite the sudden and unexpected betrayal, Tony still missed Ronan and longed to be back in the cottage with Myrtle and the gang.

Could he get more pathetic or desperate?

He hadn’t told anyone about how Ronan had finally healed him or the incredible bond that had grown between them during Tony’s recovery. Truthfully, Tony didn’t know how without feeling tremendous loss and sadness. He was still so confused and hurt by Ronan’s callous rejection after everything they had shared.

Nox and Merlin would probably say that was to be expected from a merrow man, but that wasn’t Tony’s experience, prior to that last morning. Ronan was a curmudgeon and often taciturn, but he had a tender, loyal, sensitive side. And he was a brilliant artist! Tony had been blown away when he discovered that the many watercolors around the cottage had been painted by Ronan.

Tony had raved at the gloomy, moody seascapes and action-filled scenes of ships and lighthouses amidst stormy seas. But Ronan had merely blushed and shrugged off the praise.

“I’ve had more than a hundred years and nothin’ better to do than practice a skill or two,” he had grumbled.

He was also an excellent carpenter and cook and grew herbs and vegetables in a small greenhouse he had built behind the cottage. Ronan also kept chickens and bees and cared for the island’s ancient peach trees. There was an entire shelf of peach preserves and butters under the stairs and Tony craved one of Ronan’s scones, warm and dripping with a generous glob of spicy peach butter, and a hot cup of tea. He longed to curl up with Myrtle and a book, a soft record crackling soothingly as Ronan prepared one of his stews.

Thanks to magick, Tony’s time on the island was like living in the shire of a fantasy novel. There were monsters and mermaids, but Ronan’s cottage had been a peaceful haven where Tony finally felt wanted. Someone other than his mother thought Tony was special andhemade more sense there.

Instead of being bored and getting cabin fever, Tony had gained a deeper insight into his own spiritual, emotional, and sexual identity. With Ronan, Tony had been more open and honest than he had with any friend or partner and he often wondered if that was because of the enchantment or if something deeper had connected them.

Tony started a video on cave excavations in France and went to his seat, turning it toward the screen so no one would notice if he cried or closed his eyes.

Tony couldn’t risk a power nap since he had just under fifteen minutes, but he settled into one of his fondest moments at the cottage. It was when he first began to suspect that Ronanlikedhim and when Tony started to realize he had a potent attraction to grumpy merrows.

A perfectly comfortable, yet ordinary evening had been transformed by a perfectly innocent line of inquiry. They had dined on a hearty chicken and mushroom stew with fluffy, buttery biscuits. Tony had two biscuits with his stew and two with peach jelly for dessert. He was stuffed and drowsy,entranced by the flames in the fireplace and the steady rocking of Ronan’s chair as he smoked his pipe.

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