THE NEW ANGLE OF THE SUN THROUGH THE WINDOWS WOKE
Angel too early the next morning. Unlike this bright, burning hit to her eyelids that jarred her awake in an instant, sunlight arrived differently in Atlantis: filtering through crevasses in the undersea cavern containing the city, bouncing off the golden walls and marble build-ings, mixing with the refracted light of glowing magma to seep between her lashes and coax her awake.
The early-morning chirpings of robins outside her window didn’t help matters either.
Stretching her legs and flexing her toes, Angel sat up on the bed with a yawn, realizing from the birds’ startled looks that she was naked.
Again.
Blushing, Angel searched for the sheets to cover herself but had to settle for a pillow when she saw the twisted pile of bedding on the floor.
Why was she naked? Again?
Slowly, last night came back to her. Coercing coop-eration out of Mariana had taken longer than she would have liked. It’d been catch-and-release there for a bit. Her sister was as tenacious as a game fish on a hook. Add in time she’d needed to dry her tail out to legs, and she hadn’t gotten a lot of sleep. She’d been so bone-tired, she’d hardly been able to crawl into the bed.
Her nudity had nothing to do with that dream she’d
had of Logan covered in seawater and nothing else— well, except her.
Yeah, and she had some dry land in Atlantis to sell, too. Angel got out of bed. Time to face the day and Logan. Now that the effects of Siren Song had had time to dis-
sipate, things could be normal between them.
At least, that was the hope.
After a quick shower—not quite the same as a waterfall—Angel donned a set of new undergarments. She made sure to wear a bra this time and chose a pair of white capri pants—made in China, not Capri, which made no sense—a silky, Mediterranean blue, flouncy, half-halter top, and a pair of matching sandals. How much more fun it was to wear a full set of Human clothes than just the tops she normally wore. Maybe she ought to think about pajamas.
Once dressed, Angel headed up the stone path to Logan’s lanai where another set of problems awaited her.
Should she go in the house? They hadn’t covered this in her job description. What if both Logan and Michael were asleep? What if they weren’t? What if this was something any other Human would know and she ex-posed herself by making the wrong decision?
“Well? What are you waiting for?” A flamingo raised her head from behind a hedgerow of hibiscus. “The kitchen’s just inside and I watched him bring the grocer-ies in a couple of days ago. He’s got a few packages of prawns in there I wouldn’t mind getting a hold of. What say you get me some of those and I’ll keep your location a secret from your brother?”
“Ginger?” Great. Just what she needed. The lazi¬est and most opportunistic flamingo in the Eastern
Hemisphere had just glommed onto her case study. And as for Ginger keeping a secret? Notsomuch. “What are you doing here? I thought birds of a feather flocked to-gether and all that.”
“Those Orlando chicks are too cliquey. Sometimes it’s nice to be the only flamingo around.” Ginger twirled her black-tipped beak, striking a pose that was ineffec-tual on females and downright ridiculous for anyone. Even a flamingo. To add insult to injury, the bird looked down from the back corner of her eyes. “So, what do you say? Prawns for silence?”
Angel tossed a swath of hair over her shoulder—so hard to get used to it hanging against her body instead of floating around her like kelp on a current. “I say that blackmail is a filthy practice, and if you’re going to try it, you should first have a clean background. I know what you’re doing with Roger, by the way. I think everyone except his mate does.”
That took the stuffing out of the bird. Ginger deflated back to normal size and quickly set her plumage to rights. “Fine. You don’t have to get snippy about it. I just wanted some prawns. Humans have taken all the good ones around here and I’m not a big fan of fish fry. It gets boring after a while.”
“I know all about Human fishing practices, Ginger, among other things. That’s why I’m here, and I’d ap-preciate if you’d keep quiet so I have the chance to make a difference.”
“You don’t want your brother to find out, do you?” “I’d prefer if he didn’t, but I’m a grown Mer. I’m
allowed to live my life. If he does, I’ll deal with it. But until then, I’m going to try to accomplish something.”
“Oh? Is that what they’re calling it these days?” The flamingo clacked her beak. “I accomplished something just last night.”
Angel didn’t bother dignifying Ginger’s innuendo with an answer. She turned back to the door to decide what to do.
The decision was rendered moot when Michael came running toward her. “Hey!” he said, unlocking the door, Rocky dangling from his hand. His hat slipped backward, but he caught it before it fell off. “You still have legs!”
Angel glanced into the kitchen. Thank the gods Logan wasn’t in sight. “I couldn’t very well visit you with a tail, could I?”
“Sure you could. We could go swimming.” Michael tugged her hand, and she had no choice but to follow him in. “Can you teach me to surf, Angel? I think it’d be cool. Rainbow said I’m too little, but I bet if you helped me, it’d be okay. ’Cause you can swim and all. And I beat Billy in the beststroke at the Y. It was in deep water, too. So? Can we? Go surfing?”
“Let’s try something a little less dangerous today, okay, sport?” Logan said what she’d been trying to as he entered, his hair wet from his shower.
There was an image to make a girl’s knees weak.
Then she got a good look at his toned legs beneath sand-colored shorts, the way his biceps stretched the sleeves of his navy T-shirt, the sexy way his hair swept against his collar, and realized she was in deep water. A few hours apart hadn’t stemmed the tide of attraction she felt.
Thankfully, Michael’s elbow bumped her and she refocused as the little guy turned the rim of his cap
to the front before facing his father. “So what can we do, Logan?”
“Well, first, why don’t we have breakfast before you go running off? You did just get here, you know.” Logan pulled out a chair at the breakfast bar and motioned for her to take it without any of the sexy, hooded-eye thing from last night, nor a single hint that their intimate body parts had had a passing acquaintance with each other. Good. The Siren Song had worn off. She could breathe a little easier.
“I know I just got here,” Michael replied. “But I didn’t want to get in your way. Rainbow said you worked re-ally hard to keep this house and I shouldn’t make you lose it.”
Angel didn’t have to look at Logan to know how those words hurt. What mother would say such things to her child? What had Logan ever done to her to make her think that? Anyone could tell the man was thrilled to be a father just by looking at him.
Which she was determined not to do.
Being up close and personal as she’d been last night had been more than enough. Then there was that dream she’d had—
“So, what’s for breakfast?” Probably not the best idea to invite herself to eat, but she caught the relief on Logan’s face as the conversation changed direction. Then there was the smile he sent her way, and, well, best not to dwell too long on that.
Luckily, the meal wasn’t all that different from what she was used to, but she shied away from dunking cereal in milk. She could have watered-down food any time at home, so she opted, instead, for the wonderfully fresh
fruit Logan served and her first taste of bacon. Hot and crunchy, it became her newest second favorite thing about the Human world after wet, hot kisses…
Focus, Tritone.
She was trying to. Really trying to.
“So, what do you want to do today?” Logan put the last pan away and flipped the dish towel over his shoulder—and it stayed there.
Angel bit back the sigh. Fabric tended to float all over her condo; it was a real pain in the tail to keep the place neat.
And that was the only reason she was sighing.
“You don’t have to work, Logan?” That too-familiar smile lit up Michael’s face. “You can come with us?”
Logan lowered a glass of orange juice from his lips and shook his head. “I was taking off today to find day-care for you, remember? Since I don’t have to do that anymore, the day is all yours.”
“But I thought Angel was going to babysit me.” Logan’s shoulders dropped ever so slightly.
“Well—”
“I need your dad to show me around, Michael, you know?” Angel jumped in before Michael could hurt his father’s feelings any more. “To tell me what you like to eat”—and pray it wasn’t difficult to make since, although she might be a whiz with a magma grill and spatula, Human appliances defeated her—“and show me the house. That sort of thing.”
“I can tell you what I like to eat. I’m six now, not a baby.” Michael crossed his arms and jutted out his chin—and looked exactly like his father again.
“I was including Angel, Michael.” Logan crossed
his legs and leaned back against the counter, his T-shirt tightening against his abdomen. “We can all spend the day together. What do you think?”
That got a smile out of the little boy. And the high-five to his dad got a smile out of Logan.