He simply continued to watch her, not appearing concerned at all. Was he some kind of daredevil perhaps? Or a Greenpeace activist? Who was he? Not that it mattered, she thought in rising panic. Whoever he was, he had to get out of that tank before the mutant shark got him!
Her growing alarm must have been reflected on her face, because for the barest second, his enigmatic expression changed. Was it disdain—contempt?—that flashed across his face? Beth couldn’t be sure…and she forgot the question as he slowly swept his hand downward.
Instinctively, she followed the movement. Her gaze drifted down past his broad shoulders to his muscular chest, lingered for a second on the silver medallion lying against his golden skin, then dropped even lower to his washboard stomach and lean masculine hips. They were encased in some kind of odd, glittery suit, she realized, as he shifted slightly. A scaled suit. A golden scaled suit that covered his legs, his ankles, even his feet and ended in a…
Tail?
The mutant’s tail—golden and glittering. But not a mutant shark’s as she’d first surmised, but rather a mutant man’s. A mythical man described in ancient legends, the kind of being her father had been hunting for years. To be precise, a creature who was half fish, half human.
A merman.
Chapter Two
No— Yes! It couldn’t be…but it was! The evidence was floating right before her eyes. Beth felt dazed, unable to look away from that unbelievable tail. Logic and disbelief warred in her brain, freezing her in place. She couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t move.
But he could. Her wide gaze grew even wider as the man—the fish—the whatever he was—suddenly shot to the surface of the tank. He hovered there a moment looking down at her…then turned and slapped his tail, sending a large wave lapping over the side.
Drenching Beth completely.
“Omigosh!” The shock of the icy water broke her paralysis. She turned to run, almost tripping over the sodden skirt of her gown as she stumbled back toward the staircase. She lost one shoe, then the other. She didn’t care. Not about that or how slimy the floor felt. Or the way the cold metal steps seemed to burn her bare feet as she scampered up them. Sheer blind panic—triggered by a primitive fear of the unknown—had her in its grip. All she cared about was getting away from that fish-man. Out of the gloom to safety.
She’d almost reached the top of the staircase when something grabbed her dress, yanking her to a halt. Him? Free of the tank? Her heart jumped into her throat. Clinging to the rail for support, she glanced behind her.
Her skirt had snagged on a rusty screw.
With a gasp of relief, she tore free. She fell, bruising her knee, but immediately scrambled up and kept going, running out the door, slamming it behind her. She took two steps—then paused.
The lock. She’d promised her father she’d relock the door.
Whirling around, she spun the combination until it clicked to a halt, then hurried off to her father’s stateroom. She tried to walk, but her steps kept quickening until at last—finally!—she burst through his door.
Carl Livingston stared at her across an expanse of plush maroon carpet. Alarm flashed across his gaunt face, and he struggled to sit up in his bed. “Elizabeth! My goodness, child, you’re all wet!”
Then he saw her expression. He stilled, leaning on his elbow with his eyes fixed on hers. “So it’s true—Ralph wasn’t mistaken.” His voice sounded oddly hushed. “We caught a mermaid.”
Beth shivered. “Actually,” she said, wrapping her arms around her waist to still her shaking, “you caught a mermale.”
Light flared in Carl’s sunken eyes. For a few precious seconds wonder eased the lines of suffering around his mouth and brow. “I knew they were out there,” he declared almost dreamily, his thin cheeks flushing with rare color. “I first sighted one in these very waters—a beautiful female with long, dark hair floating on the waves. Nearly twenty years ago it was, only a few months after your mother died…” His voice trailed off on the final sentence. A spasm of pain crossed his features and he fell back against the pillows, coughing.
Beth glanced around the room, and realized her father’s nurse must have gone to the galley for her dinner break. “I’ll go get Anne,” she said, turning back toward the door.
Carl’s voice stopped her. “No,” he wheezed, still coughing sporadically, but shaking his head. “Stay here. We need to talk.”
Beth leaned against the doorjamb. Pushing her wet hair back from her face with a trembling hand, she forced her own breathing to slow while she waited for her father’s coughing spell to stop.
Carl’s paroxysm finally eased. He rested for a few moments against the pillow, staring up at the mahogany-paneled ceiling. Then he turned his head to look at her again. The color in his face had faded, but his gaze still held the glittering sharpness it used to have whenever one of his theories had proven correct as he asked, “How did he look?”
Beth stared back at him unseeingly, images whirling in her mind. A bronzed, muscular chest. Shimmering, golden scales. “Incredible,” she whispered. Hard-edged features and a dark, fathomless gaze. “Dangerous,” she added with a shudder. “Dad, that merman is very, very angry.”
She jumped as Ralph spoke from behind her. “Please, keep your voice down, Elizabeth,” he admonished her. With a murmured apology, he brushed past her into the room, closing the door deliberately behind him. “We want to keep the merman’s existence a secret for the time being.”
She stared at him in astonishment. “A secret! The whole crew must know about him by now.”
Ralph shook his head. “No, they don’t. Even the captain has no idea what we’ve captured. Only you, your father, and the Delano brothers know what’s actually in the tank. After we netted our find, I wrapped him up in canvas before we brought him back to the ship. Oh, the rest of the men probably know we’ve snared something of interest,” he admitted, “but who among them would ever suspect the truth?”
“I knew that one day we’d find one,” Carl declared with pride in his voice. “It was just a matter of time.”
“And you were right, sir,” Ralph agreed fervently. His pale eyes lit with excitement as he added, “Think of the coverage, the attention, this will garner when it hits the media. A live merman! We’ll be famous!”
Nausea twisted in Beth’s stomach. She didn’t want to be famous. She just wanted that merman off the ship. Back in the sea where he belonged before he did something more dangerous than splashing her.
“But he hates being in that tank,” she protested, glancing from Ralph to her father. “He threw water all over me!”
“An accident, I’m sure,” Ralph told her. “If anything he’s probably just playful. Apt to splash a bit if one gets too close…” His gaze swept over her, and disapproval thinned his full mouth. “As you apparently did.”
Glancing down, Beth realized what a mess she was. Her gown was ruined; her bra showed clearly through the wet material. Crossing her arms protectively across her chest, she opened her mouth to argue, but Ralph cut her off with a wave of his stocky hand.
