Children of the Sea 03 - Sea Lord

cannot know that.” His voice was strangled.
    “ ‘ Trust me, ’ you said, remember?” she quoted back at him softly. “ ‘ Trust yourself .’ And the crazy thing is, I did. I do.”
    Contrary to all her expectations and experience, she trusted him not to leave her.
    She held the heavy pelt out to him. “I know because I know you. We’re connected. Forever, just like Page 101

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    you said.”
    The wet leather of Lucy’s boots chafed her ankles as she climbed the track to the tower. Madadh loped ahead.
    Conn had insisted she return with the dog to the castle. As she reached the ridge, however, she turned for one final sight of the beach.
    Her lover stood at the water’s edge, a statue of male beauty cast in gleaming bronze. The setting sun burnished the hard curve of his shoulders, the long muscles of his legs, and set the gold medallion at his neck aflame. A burst of foam ran over his feet.
    Lucy’s breath caught. She hugged his shirt to her chest.
    With a matador’s grace, he swung the sealskin into the air, aided by a gust of wind that lifted the heavy pelt and blew Lucy’s hair into her eyes. She pushed hastily at the blowing strands.
    Conn was gone.
    An enormous black bull seal reared on the beach in his place.
    She bit her lip to keep from crying out in shock, loss, wonder, protest.
    It was so big. He— Conn —was so big, at least twice the size he had been as a man.
    It— he —hunched over the rocks, ungainly, awkward, and powerful. The water rushed to meet him.
    The first wave rippled along his sides. The next broke over his head. The surf exploded in a burst of force and movement, and then he was beyond the breakers, one with the water, suddenly graceful, suddenly free.
    His beauty closed her throat. Yearning filled her chest.
    She had seen seals before.
    In Maine.
    At a distance.
    She had glimpsed the sleek, dark heads appearing in the shining sea, rarely enough to seem like magic.
    Their eyes were wide, wise, and round, human enough to spark legends or stir the longings of lonely sailors.
    Or so Lucy had thought.
    She had never imagined anything or anyone like Conn.
    He crested and dived with liquid power and fluid joy, moving away from her, heading toward the open ocean. We flow as the sea flows.
    Her face was wet. She tasted salt. Spray or tears?
    He would come back, she told herself fiercely. They were connected. Forever.
    She stayed on the path a long time, her heart swollen with longing, watching the sea.

17
    CONN’S SIDE OF THE BED WAS EMPTY, HIS PILLOW cold and undented, when Lucy woke.
    She flipped onto her stomach, wrestling the covers and her concern. What did she expect? He wasn’t some harried executive out for an after-work jog. He wasn’t her father, stumbling home when the bars closed.
    Conn was selkie. He was . . .
    A scrape. A thump. A rustle from the wardrobe.
    Her heart leaped with love and relief. He was here.
    She lifted herself on one elbow, shoving her hair back from her face. Conn stood before the wardrobe.
    She glimpsed a slice of his naked back before his shirt dropped over his head. His sealskin lay like a rug before the hearth, the rich, dark fur gleaming in the last embers of the fire. Her breath caught.
    Conn turned. “I woke you. Good.”
    “You’re home.” Her voice was husky with sleep and welcome.

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    “Yes.” He strode briskly to the bed, his austere face relaxed and open, his eyes dancing silver. “I brought you a present.”
    She blinked. She barely recognized him in this mood, warm and playful. His early morning energy made her want to burrow right back under the covers.
    And drag him with her.
    “I can’t wait,” she said. “Give it to me.”
    Conn grinned like . . . okay, not like a little boy. No little boy had that wicked, knowing curve to his mouth. But he looked amazingly pleased with himself and with her. He flipped back the covers. “In the courtyard.”
    “Hey!” Laughing and shivering, she made a grab for the blankets. “I’m naked here.”
    “I noticed.” The glint in his eyes became even more pronounced. She shivered again in pleasure. “Very nice. Come on.”
    Lucy gawked. She had received presents before. Cal had seen to that. On Christmas Eve, after the bar closed, their family would gather in front of the TV and unwrap their gifts to each other: a