You didn’t say whether yours live nearby.’
Her slender shoulders went up, then down. ‘I don’t have a family.’
section_insertedcopyright--num_1--seq_18? The idea was alien. And, in some ways, wickedly appealing. No demands. No expectations. No interruptions. ‘No one at all?’
She trailed a damp hand down her jeans, leaving a streak on her shapely denim thigh. ‘I have an aunt. As well as great friends and my animals—’ she flashed an optimist’s smile ‘—so life’s full.’
Was that a subtle hint that she wasn’t interested in romance? Well, ditto…even if his growing curiosity and flexing libido refuted that statement. There was something about Vanessa Craig—something mesmerising calling to him from beyond those bewitching green eyes.
She checked her large-faced watch, took the net and scooped Kami up to ease him into his new watery home. As his golden scales darted around the relocated trident, Mitch shot out a relieved breath. ‘He looks happier already.’
‘Hopefully that should do the trick.’
‘After all that exercise, he should sleep well.’ Which was good news for them both; he had some important paperwork to get through tonight.
‘Fish don’t sleep,’ she pointed out. ‘They slow their metabolism and rest.’ She knelt down to gather the replacement tank’s packaging. ‘Dolphins sleep, of course,’ she went on. ‘But they’re mammals. They keep one side of their brain awake while the other half dozes.’
Fascinated, he dropped onto his haunches too. He’d known dolphins weren’t fish, but, ‘They’re awake while they sleep?’
Clearly he was behind in his general knowledge. Maybe he should subscribe to the Animal channel. Or he could cut his more primal instincts some slack and become better acquainted with this expert. Not as if he was taking the plunge and asking her out. He was simply interested in getting to know her mind a little better.
He collected some discarded bubble wrap. ‘Did you study marine biology?’
‘Zoology. And business as well as some Greek mythology.’ Sweeping up more packaging, she tilted her head at him and shimmering hair fell like a silky waterfall from behind her shoulder. ‘Did you know that the ancient Greeks believed dolphins were once human? There’s a school of thought that says Poseidon was human once too.’
Still crouching, he leant a little closer. The sound of her voice was melodic…soothing. ‘Is that right?’
‘The more traditional myth says he was one of the supreme Olympian gods,’ she continued, grabbing more packaging. ‘When Creation was divided between the gods, Hades got to rule the underworld, Zeus dominated the skies, and Poseidon became lord of the water, both fresh and salt. His son, Triton, was half human, half fish.’
Engrossed, Mitch blindly reached for more bubble wrap while she reached the same way. Their hands touched. That sizzle flashed again and this time sparked and caught light. But while the sexual awareness was through the roof, the sense of awkwardness had all but vanished.
They shared a brief what if smile, then she pushed to her feet.
He wanted to hear more. ‘So the mermaid legend started with the Greeks?’
She nodded. ‘But originally mermaids were called sirens, fabled to be half woman, half bird. They had beautiful voices they used to lure sailors and their ships onto the rocks. If a ship got away, the siren would have to throw herself into the sea.’
He slowly pushed to his feet too, chancing to take in the tempting lines of her body as he went. Vanessa Craig didn’t smell like birdseed or puppies any more. She smelled soft, sweet and slightly salty, like a fresh ocean breeze.
He rested his hip against the table edge. ‘Did any sailors try to resist?’
‘One. He’d heard about the sirens hypnotic deadly powers. He had his crew tie him to the mast of his ship so he wasn’t able to steer her towards tragedy. But when he saw the beautiful siren on the shore, and heard her song, he begged to be cut free.’
His gaze skimmed her delicate jaw. ‘Who won?’
She laughed. ‘Depends if you were the siren or the sailor.’
His return smile faded as his gaze drifted to her mouth. Those pink, full, tempting lips. Another few inches and he could taste them. Explore them. Of course this instant attraction could merely be backlash from shunning the dating scene long enough. Vanessa was attractive, intelligent, not to mention incredibly sexy.
Best of all, she was independently minded. A strong but companionable woman. His kind of woman.
He broke the trance and bent to sweep the box off the floor. ‘Have you had your business long?’
‘Two years.’
‘Going well?’
Her smile wavered and she shrugged. ‘Sure. Aside from being evicted in two weeks from the store I adore and needing to find a new place with rent that’s anywhere within my budget. I have an appointment with my bank manager tomorrow and—’ She stopped and released a self-deprecating sigh. ‘Now that was too much information.’
His gut turned to ice as a withering feeling sank through his middle, but Mitch managed a thin smile in return. ‘Not too much information at all.’
Rather, just enough. Barring an earthquake in central Sydney or the acting President suddenly losing all faith in his protégé, two weeks from tomorrow Mitch would claim the head chair of the family company, as per his late father’s will. If anyone could organise finance, the soon-to-be President of Stuart Investments and Loans certainly could.
But, realistically, he and Vanessa Craig were little more than acquaintances. Despite the lure of smouldering embers, he wouldn’t ignore the warning signs. Eviction. Financial disaster. Before him stood a time bomb about to explode, which translated into a loss for his company should he choose to invest, not to mention a hit to his personal armoury if he allowed himself to become any more intrigued. God knew, he had enough to worry about without taking on new risks.
He held the box against his ribs and glanced around. ‘Well, that seems to be it,’ he announced cheerily. ‘How much do I owe you?’
Reading his terminating social cue, her smile wavered and her gaze flicked away. ‘No charge.’
‘There must be some difference between the two tanks.’
‘All part of the service.’ She nodded at her card on the table. ‘And if you need any help in the next few days, you know where to find—’
‘Absolutely.’ He snatched up the card with his free hand as if to confirm his commitment. ‘I’ll see you out.’
A moment later, he swung open his front door and faced the sunset’s dying colours, deepest crimson and streaks of gold bleeding across the eucalypt hills in the west.
‘Goodnight, Mr Stuart.’ She gave him her signature salute. ‘Good luck.’
‘Yep. Thanks.
