Fish Out of Water, page 16
And slightly amazed. Because the Undersea Folk treated her like royalty. Ironic, given that she wasn’t ever going to be royalty.
They were anxious about the repairs to her rental—did they meet with her approval? Would she prefer another table? Was it all right if they couldn’t replace the patio glass until tomorrow? Because if not, they would see to it that—
The fight, it seemed, had been seen in the mind of all the Undersea Folk in the area. Farrem had been projecting everything, a sadistic touch to ensure their cooperation, to make sure they knew who was in charge. Knew who had taken over. Knew who was going to kill the king and prince.
Knew who was going to get his neck broken by a half-breed mind blind marine biologist with split ends.
“It’s almost a shame you’re not engaged to Artur anymore,” Jonas whispered to her, watching their deference in awe. “Also, I’m not speaking to you because I really, really wanted to plan a royal wedding.”
“Go soak your head,” she whispered back.
Amazing! All you had to do to earn their admiration was break your father’s neck on your back lawn.
* * *
“What a week,” she groaned, stumbling into her room. It was two thirty in the morning and she needed a shower in the worst way.
“Say it twice,” Thomas said. She heard the bedroom door close and realized with a start this was the first moment they’d had alone all day.
“Sit,” he ordered, and, sighing, she obeyed. He would go into M.D. mode, of course, even though she was perfectly fine except for a few cuts (from the patio glass) and bruises (from the fight). But she was a fast healer, and he didn’t need to poke or prod.
“Thomas, really, I’m—”
“I love you,” he said, bending so he could look her in the eyes. She could feel her own eyes widening. “I’ve always loved you. And I was stupid about it. I thought Artur was the best thing for you and I didn’t fight for you and I damned near made the worst mistake of my life. I’m scared shitless you’ll get hurt. I’m scared shitless I’ll have to hurt you again to fix you—like in Boston.
“But I’m even more scared at the prospect of a life without you. So we’re getting married. Right away.”
“Are you asking me?” she asked, feeling the bubble of joy spread from her heart all the way into her throat. It was actually hard to talk, she was so happy. “Or telling me?”
“Shut up and kiss me,” he said, smiling, and she did. In seconds they were rolling around on her bed, groping and kissing and moaning and clutching.
“Wait, wait,” she gasped. “I’m gross. I’ve still got Farrem’s blood under my nails.”
“I could use a shower, too.” For a moment he looked grim, and she realized the healer was wrestling with the avenging lover. “It’s not every day I throw a knife into a woman’s neck.”
“A woman who helped Farrem plot the deaths of hundreds, at the very least. Or did you think he was going to pick some other ridiculously beautiful woman to be his queen?”
“True enough. Come on.” He stood and held out a hand. She took it and he pulled her to her feet. “I’ll wash your back.”
“That’s nice. I’ll wash your front.”
And so they did, and when they were clean they stayed under the pounding spray, kissing until their lips were numb, soaping breasts and balls and buttocks, running slick hands all over slick flesh, gliding, sliding, and Fred was actually having trouble determining where one of them stopped and the other began.
And then, ah, God, he was lifting her, and entering her, and she was arching her back and meeting his thrusts, her fingers were digging into the heavy muscles of his shoulders, and at the height of her orgasm he kissed her on the side of her throat and she thought, Home, home, I’ve never really felt like I belonged anywhere but right this minute I’m home, oh, thank you, God, I’m home at last.
Epilogue
“This dress itches.”
“Quit bitching, Fred.”
“And this bouquet has made me sneeze twice.”
“I mean it, Fred.”
“And I’m hot. It’s fucking ninety degrees out here and I’m in a floor-length dress!”
“So is Barb, so shut your hole.”
“When is this thing going to start already?”
“It has started. You’d just rather be off somewhere banging Thomas.”
“As a matter of fact, I would.”
“Disgusting,” Jonas said smugly, adjusting his bow tie. “You two are like monkeys. Loud monkeys.”
“Look who’s talking! How many scenes of debauchery have I walked in on? At least we’ve got the decency to keep to our bedroom.” And our shower. And the hot tub. And the pool when everyone’s asleep. And—
“I get that you haven’t had sex in, what? Eight years?”
“Jonas,” she warned grimly.
“But you two are going to hurt each other if you keep trying to make up for lost time.”
“Jonas, I’m five seconds away from hanging you by your cummerbund. I’ll get the electric chair, of course, but it’s a small price to pay.”
“Wait!” Jonas cocked his head as the tempo of the music changed. “That’s your cue. Go, go!”
“Why are you even back here?” she demanded. “The bridesmaids are supposed to be back here.” The other two had already gone, and hallelujah.
“To make sure you don’t head for the hills.” He gave her a rude shove in the middle of her back. “Now get going! I’ll duck around the side and pop out in front.”
“Great. It’s not a wedding, it’s a fucked-up magic show.”
“Sparkle, Fred, sparkle!” Then, before she could pummel him, he had darted away.
She stomped down the aisle, recognizing several guests: Artur, Tennian, Mekkam. Her mother and Sam. Colleagues from the New England Aquarium, including (oh, God) Madison.
The captain, in full dress uniform, sitting beside Thomas. They both smiled at her as she passed them and Fred marveled at the change in her fiancé’s father. The man had seriously mellowed after his wife’s death. He’d certainly been nice enough to her, even going so far as to give Thomas his late mother’s wedding and engagement rings to present to Fred. Fred had been proud to accept the engagement ring and, in another month, would be wearing the wedding ring as well.
Even though she’d been wearing it for over a month, she couldn’t help being distracted by it now and again. It was a nice piece of jewelry, a platinum band with a half-carat diamond setting, but that’s not why she caught herself staring at it during inopportune moments.
She loved what it represented, that was all. Almost as much as she loved the man who had given it to her.
She tipped him a wink, and prayed Jonas wouldn’t notice she had refused to wear the silver heels he’d picked out for her.
Barefoot, she padded up the aisle to take her place beside Dr. Barb, who was looking dazzling in a cream-colored dress Jonas had selected. Dr. Barb looked exhilarated and intimidated and thrilled, all at once.
As the music reached its crescendo, she leaned in and whispered to the bride, “By the way, I’m withdrawing my resignation.”
“What resignation?” the bride whispered back. “And you’d better not be late next Monday.”
Real romantic, that’s what it was.
Fred buried her face in her bouquet and snorted laughter into the white roses.
Table of Contents
Acknowledgments
Author’s Note
The Story So Far
Prologue
One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten
Eleven
Twelve
Thirteen
Fourteen
Fifteen
Sixteen
Seventeen
Eighteen
Nineteen
Twenty
Twenty-one
Twenty-two
Twenty-three
Twenty-four
Twenty-five
Twenty-six
Twenty-seven
Twenty-eight
Twenty-nine
Thirty
Thirty-one
Thirty-two
Thirty-three
Thirty-four
Thirty-five
Thirty-six
Thirty-seven
Thirty-eight
Thirty-nine
Forty
Forty-one
Forty-two
Forty-three
Forty-four
Forty-five
Forty-six
Forty-seven
Epilogue
MaryJanice Davidson, Fish Out of Water
