warn her away from it forever!”
“So how do you intend to keep her safe?” Doyle demanded.
“I’m glad you asked,” the faerie replied, pursing her tiny lips as if trying to hide a smile. “Since I can only do so much to keep her out of the water, and there’s even less I can do to keep her safe once she’s in it, what Violet needs is someone to protect her. Someone who’s an even match for a determined merrow. Someone like an immortal warrior, for instance.”
Doyle gaped at her. “You mean me. You want me to protect your charge for you.”
“I know you like her,” Eleanor pronounced with a look of sly satisfaction.
“Be that as it may,” Doyle sputtered, “I fear her opinion of me leaves much to be desired. Thanks in large part to you, I might add.”
Eleanor waved her hand dismissively. “A misunderstanding that’s easy enough to fix. I have every confidence that, once you turn on that Irish charm of yours, she’ll warm right up. You’re a fine looking man. And believe me when I tell you that Violet noticed, whether she wanted to or not.”
Doyle rubbed his thumb across his stubbly chin as he considered her words. Had Violet really found him attractive, despite the piss poor way he’d handled the situation with her today? “Fine,” he agreed after a moment. “I’d be more than happy to improve upon Violet’s first impression of me.”
He narrowed his eyes and pointed at the faerie. “But don’t think I don’t know when I’m being maneuvered by flattery.”
Eleanor gave him an innocent smile.
“How shall I meet up with her? Where is she now?” he asked, attempting to sound more casual than he felt. In truth, he was as eager as a schoolboy to see her again.
Eleanor’s wings drooped and she stared down into her mug. “She’s sitting alone in her parents’ closet, surrounded by their things, crying.”
Doyle shot to his feet, startling a yelp from Bruno. “What are you doing here with me, then?” he demanded. “Go…do whatever it is you do. Comfort her!”
When the faerie raised her face to look at him again, there were tears sparkling in her eyes. “She’s grieving, Doyle. There’s only so much I can do. I can share her sorrow, but I can’t take it from her. It’s something she needs to feel.”
Doyle lowered himself back into his chair, cursing helplessly. “What she needs is to get out of that house. Can’t you persuade her to go out for a bite to eat somewhere? Then I can meet her and try to take her mind off it for a bit.”
Eleanor wiped at her eyes and nodded, tucking her mug back into her dress and rising from the coffee table. “I think I can manage that. I’ll nudge her toward that crab shack, next to the docks. The rest will be up to you.”
Doyle’s lips quirked up in a mirthless smile. “I’ll do my best to win the lady over. Just keep in mind that I’ll probably be more successful this time if it doesn’t appear that I’m conversing with my imaginary friend.”
“Agreed. Oh and one more thing,” Eleanor added, crossing her arms and rising to look him directly in the eye. “If you hurt her, I’ll make sure you regret it for the rest of your immortal life.”
She blinked out of sight wearing a threatening glower. It was far more formidable than it should have been, considering her diminutive stature.
Doyle stared after her with the confused expression of someone who’d just been put in his place by a cotton ball.
Chapter Three
Violet decided that there wasn’t anything much better than enjoying the evening breeze, and sipping a mojito, while you gazed out over the ocean at a spectacular sunset.
She inhaled deeply, thinking that her parents had probably spent many evenings in this very spot doing precisely the same thing. The idea filled her with a strange serenity, as if they were with her now, lending her their strength despite their physical absence.
“How you doin’ honey? You need a refill?”
Violet transferred her tranquil smile to the amiable waitress and glanced down at a glass that was mostly ice and mint leaves. She was on vacation. And she was walking home. She ordered mojito number two and a blackened grouper sandwich with fries and extra tartar sauce.
The waitress clomped away across the rustic wooden deck planks, hips swaying beneath her cutoff t-shirt. She was waylaid by a pair of cute guys who appeared to be more interested in flirting than ordering. Violet grinned and swiveled in her plastic seat to take in the rest of the scene.
The place was lively, without being too loud and crowded. Jimmy Buffet was singing about a cheeseburger in paradise over the speakers. And as the sun sank below the horizon, hundreds of tiny multicolored lights sprang to life, like a miniature fireworks display. They were everywhere, wrapped across the wooden railings and woven around the poles and spokes of the table umbrellas, casting the restaurant in an enchanted glow.
To top it all off, the bartender made a damn good mojito. Violet didn’t usually venture beyond beer and wine, but she was glad she had tried something new. She was thinking that things were definitely looking brighter, when her eyes rose to find Captain Doyle standing beside her chair.
Violet nearly groaned at the appetizing package he presented: more than six feet of gorgeous, muscled man, freshly showered and shaven, and wearing just a hint of crisp, clean cologne. She couldn’t deny the jolt of attraction, but the last thing she needed was to get involved with some local skirt chaser.
“Miss Hendrickson,” he greeted affably. “Nice to see you again. I hope you’re not feeling any ill effects from your earlier mishap?”
His rich brogue teased her ears and his warm demeanor relaxed her defenses, but she hadn’t forgotten about his hot and cold treatment of her on the boat. “I’m fine, thank you,” she answered warily.
“I’m glad I ran into you,” he said, softening his tone. “I’ve been wanting to apologize to you for the way I acted earlier. I believe we got off on the wrong foot, so to speak. If I seemed a bit gruff, it was just that I was truly concerned for you—not only because you were my responsibility as a passenger, but because you seem like a genuinely nice person.”
He gave her a wry smile. “I’m afraid I was also a bit preoccupied with a couple of the other passengers. I don’t know if you noticed, but there were two in particular who were making a nuisance of themselves the entire trip. Though I would have liked to tell them to clear off, I was obliged to humor them somewhat. I’ve built my business from scratch, and I’ve learned it doesn’t pay to be rude to the customers.”
Violet blinked up at him, touching her tongue to lips that had suddenly gone dry. Though dressed casually in canvas shorts and a plain red t-shirt, he radiated a quiet confidence and sexuality that quickened her heartbeat and stole her breath. Maybe she had misread him before. He sounded so sincere. His eyes shone that mesmerizing sea-green in the glint of the colored lights, seeming to convey a heartfelt appeal.
Doyle stuck his hands into his pockets and cleared his throat. “Miss Hendrickson?”
“Please call
