Water: The Mermaid Legacy Book One. Natasha Hardy

partial impressions of him from the first two encounters had been mere shadows. I took in the warm butterscotch of his skin, stretched over a strong lean frame. His torso was bare while his legs were covered in an iridescent fabric that pooled around his feet as he crouched. His waist-length hair shone in the sunlight framing a strong jaw, high cheekbones and a refined nose. He was younger than I’d first thought, probably just a year or two older than me.

      Heat rushed into my cheeks as my gaze settled briefly on his full lips, as the memory of them covering mine and breathing into my oxygen-starved lungs snapped into focus.

      He was smiling encouragingly, almost as if he were afraid I would run from him, his eyes sparkling as he watched me.

      “What’re you doing?” he asked casually.

      I looked down at the forgotten pan in my hand.

      “Dishes,” I offered lamely, holding up the pan and sponge I’d been using, and feeling utterly stupid. “The uh… the boys have gone to the pool.”

      “I know,” he said.

      I nodded dumbly, mulling over how I felt about that.

      I sat back feeling dazed as he watched me quietly.

      “What’s your name?” I asked eventually as the silence stretched uncomfortably.

      “Well, the closest translation in your language would be Merrick.”

      Merrick. I rolled the name around in my head. It suited him, this golden boy shrouded in mystery.

      “You rescued me yesterday.” It was a statement not a question, but he nodded all the same. “Where did you come from?”

      He stood suddenly and gestured to the rock I was sitting on. “May I?” he asked.

      I nodded.

      He leapt gracefully across the narrow piece of stream separating us and settled next to me.

      “I was in the cave below the pool when I heard the gun shots and then a splash.”

      “There’s a cave below the pool?” He nodded. “How deep is it?”

      “Pretty deep”

      I thought for a few moments, trying to work out the logistics of what he was telling me.

      “So the rock forms a shelf under the overhang and you were there?”

      “No, I was underwater,” he replied.

      “You were diving?” I asked.

      He shook his head, smiling.

      “So there’s like a bubble of air down there?” I asked.

      He shook his head again, his grin growing.

      My mind twisted like a worm on a hook trying to find the logical explanation I knew should be there.

      “There’s a cave below the pool that you were in but there’s no air?” I asked.

      He nodded, grinning.

      “So it’s an underwater cave?” I repeated.

      He nodded again.

      “You were in the cave when I fell. Did you have a scuba kit?” He looked at me blankly. “You know, one of those oxygen tanks and mouth pieces…” I trailed off, taking his blank expression as a no.