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.
“You’ve had a shock,” he said in a soothing tone that merely annoyed her. “Let me get you a towel. You’re dripping all over your father’s carpet.” Without waiting for her answer, he headed into the adjoining bathroom.
He’s worried about the carpet? Beth thought in amazement. When there was a merman down in the hold?
“Listen to me,” she insisted, watching him through the open door. “That merman is really upset.”
“Nonsense, Elizabeth. You’re the one who’s upset.” Ralph opened a cupboard and reached inside. “The merman doesn’t have real emotions. Not like people do.”
She stared at him in surprise. “You can’t know that.”
“Of course I can. I’ve been observing him most of the day,” Ralph informed her as he came back into the room. “We’ve made numerous efforts to communicate, but the creature hasn’t responded at all—not even on the most primitive level. He can’t understand a thing.”
“If anyone should know, Ralph should,” her father reminded her. “His expertise is working with sea mammals.”
“But he hasn’t worked with mermen—no one has,” Beth pointed out. “And I’m sure the merman understands something at least. Why, he’s wearing some kind of medallion around his neck. Would a fish do that?”
Amusement caused Ralph’s mustache to twitch. “Sometimes. I’ve trained dolphins to slide chains around their necks, after all. Perhaps he picked it up from the bottom of the ocean and slipped it on. Chimps put things around their necks, too. Even in the wild.”
“But he’s not a dolphin or a chimp! He’s half-human—”
“Shush, you’re getting all excited.” Draping the towel around her, Ralph brought the ends together beneath her chin and looked down into her face. “Don’t be deceived by appearances,” he chided softly. “It’s not a man, just a fish. With no more sensibility than a cichlid in a bowl.”
His thick knuckles nudged her chin, encouraging her to meet his eyes. Aware of her father watching, Beth forced herself to do so. Ralph’s pale eyes looked sincere, confident. Her worry eased a little…yet refused to disappear completely. The merman had looked