Page 22 of Kiss for My Kraken
“I know you’re there,” she said, her voice stronger now. “I can feel you.”
The cool air began to warm, surrounding her like an invisible embrace, and she closed her eyes, savoring it. When she opened them again, the water directly before the dock had begun to ripple, expanding outward in concentric circles.
Something was rising from the depths.
She held her breath, anticipation and joy mingling in her chest as she waited for her river prince to emerge.
CHAPTER 12
Sam drifted beneath the surface of the river, his body perfectly still as he watched Nina approach the dock, the blue fabric of her dress swaying around her legs like ripples in the water. The sight of her made his heart stutter in his chest—a sensation he’d never experienced before.
She was back. Waiting for him.
He watched as she reached into her pocket and withdrew something small that caught the fading sunlight. A stone. Another gift. She placed it carefully at the edge of the dock, then opened what appeared to be a sketchbook. Ozzie circled twice before flopping down beside her.
Despite his preparations the previous night, he’d spent the entire day in an agony of indecision, circling his island, rehearsing what he might say to her if he found the courage to return to her dock. The idea of ferrying her across to his island had seemed preposterous in the morning light. But watching her wait for him with such open expectation, it suddenly seemed possible again. Necessary, even.
He wanted to show her his world. His island. His home. The sanctum he’d never shared with anyone.
Before he could second-guess himself, he propelled his body forward, gliding silently through the water towards the dock. He paused just short of emerging, studying her. Her head was bent over her sketchbook, pencil moving with swift, sure strokes. He couldn’t see what she was drawing, but the focused expression on her face captivated him.
Something welled up inside him—a feeling too large, too fragile to name. Even though he remained beneath the surface, she suddenly looked up. When she spoke to him he gathered his courage and allowed himself to rise, breaking the surface directly in front of the dock.
Water cascaded from his shoulders as he lifted his upper body into the air. Her eyes widened, and for one terrifying moment, he thought he’d made a mistake. Then her face transformed, blooming into a smile so radiant it seemed to illuminate the gathering dusk.
“You came back,” she breathed.
He nodded, suddenly unsure of his voice. Water dripped from his hair, running in rivulets down his chest.
“I wasn’t sure you would.” She sat down on the edge of the dock, her feet dangling in the water. “After last night, I mean.”
He found his voice at last. “I wanted to see you again.”
The words felt clumsy and inadequate. He spent so much time alone that human speech sometimes felt like a half-forgotten language.
“I wanted to see you too.” Her cheeks flushed pink, visible even in the fading light. She gestured to the stone she’d placed at the dock’s edge. “I brought you something. It’s not much, but…”
He reached for it, his fingers closing around the smooth river stone. It was small enough to fit in his palm, streaked with whorls of color—blue, green, silver—like a tiny echo of the river itself.
“Thank you,” he said, running his thumb over its surface. Such a simple thing, yet it felt like a treasure. He tucked it carefully into a pouch attached to the belt that encircled his waist—one of the few practical items he wore when in the water.
She watched him, her grey eyes soft in the twilight. “I’m glad you like it.”
“I do.” He hesitated, then added, “I have something to show you too. If you want.”
“What is it?”
He gestured towards the island that rose from the middle of the river, its silhouette dark against the evening sky. “My home.”
The word felt strange on his tongue—not because it wasn’t true, but because he’d never shared it aloud with anyone before.
“The island?” When he nodded, she turned back to him, a mixture of excitement and hesitation in her expression. “I’d love to see it, but… how would we get there? I can’t swim.”
He pulled the small rowboat out from under the dock—Jekyll’s boat, delivered as promised earlier that day.
“In this,” he said simply.
She stared at the boat, then at him, her pretty lips parted. “You planned this?”
