Her lips trembled. She pressed them together.
You haven’t even known him for that long,
she reminded herself. But her body didn’t seem to get the message that he was still a stranger, and what’s more, off limits. Untouchable.
Gwen shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She turned her face from his sight. A bite down on her bottom lip delivered a nice bit of pain. She needed to clear her head, get her thoughts back on track. Just looking at his tall frame seemed to scorch her all the way down to the bone.
Blake Whittaker offered his hand to Kenneth. His suit was so crisp it looked like it would crack if he made any sudden moves. “Please forgive the inconvenience,” he said by way of a greeting. “Right now it’s merely a formality until we’re able to fully examine the events that took place on Little Mer Island. As you can imagine, we have been quite taken aback to learn of the Mer, and do need time to make an assessment of these elements and the problems they present to the government.”
Kenneth pulled his hand away. “Don’t try to bullshit me,” he snapped, staring long and hard at the agents around them. “My wife and her sisters hardly present any problems to the government. It’s the Mer who attacked us who caused the trouble.”
His expression blank and carefully controlled, Whittaker nodded. “I do appreciate that, Mr. Randall. Our concern right now is for the personal well-being of you and your family. You did say yourself that there may be more aggressors. If that’s true, they may not be as easy to stop as those we have in custody.” A grim smile touched his saturnine features. “Keeping you confined is merely a security precaution, nothing more. Once we have a full understanding of the situation we are dealing with, I am sure you will be free to go.”
Whittaker’s manner was calm and straightforward. Trustworthy.
For the first time since this nightmare had begun, Gwen was able to release her pent-up breath. The last few days had been too much to try and absorb. There were so many twists and turns to unravel.
She stepped forward. “Please rest assured we want to cooperate and will do everything necessary to help your agency understand the Mer.” His very nearness was playing havoc with her nerves, but she forced herself to ignore it.
Whittaker turned, fixing her under his gray-blue stare. His gaze was penetrating beneath half-lidded eyes, almost intimate in their appraisal. He didn’t conceal the fact he was pleased by what he saw. A smile turned up one corner of his mouth, and one eyebrow arched appreciatively. “I’m glad to hear that.”
Gwen’s heart raced. Although they’d spent less than a day together, there was something about him that made her blood stir. “I’m surprised to see you here,” she countered.
An easy shrug rolled off his broad shoulders. “I’ve been assigned to accompany you to a place where the security is a little bit higher than what our facilities here can offer.”
“Just where is this place, anyway?” Kenneth demanded irritably. He clearly wasn’t as willing to accept Whittaker’s spiel as she was.
A frown replaced Whittaker’s smile. “We have a full facility in Belmonde, Virginia. That does include an extensive marine-sciences center.”
Kenneth Randall’s eyes narrowed sharply. “Sounds fishy to me.”
His wife immediately delivered a hard poke to the ribs. “Mind the fishy references,” Tessa warned under her breath.
Wrapping one thick arm around his wife’s waist, Kenneth gave her an apologetic kiss on the top of her head. “Sorry, honey. I wasn’t thinking.”
Gwen hid her smile behind her hand. Kenneth Randall might be a little rough around the edges and lacking a few social graces, but he was a solid and dependable man. He adored Tessa, giving her everything and denying her nothing. Her older sister had been lucky to snag him.
Tessa placed a protective hand on Kenneth’s chest. “We might not want to go, but it looks like we have no choice.” She looked to Whittaker. “Am I right that you’re going to continue to hold us against our will?”
Whittaker spread his hands in apology. “Look, folks, if it were up to me I’d walk you to the front door and wave good-bye.” His hands dropped to his sides. “Truth is, this thing has become bigger than all of us. What we consider to be a hostile species has made an attack and killed a civilian. The weapons they have access to are dangerous. I’ve seen that with my own eyes. We can’t risk more lives—just like we can’t risk a widespread panic if word of the events got out to the media.”
Addison frowned. “As an EMT, I understand the idea of containment and control of anything that presents a danger to civilians,” she finally allowed. “I think we should all try to accept that we’re stuck and make the best of it.” She looked around. “If nothing else, think of it as a little family vacation.”
“A vacation under lock and key isn’t my idea of fun,” Kenneth grumbled.
“You won’t be locked in cells,” Whittaker hastened to explain. “Since a lot of employees and agents live on site, the sciences facility has its own apartment and shopping complex. Think of it as a small neighborhood.”
“Surrounded by a high barbed-wire fence and armed guards, I suppose,” Kenneth retorted.
Whittaker nodded. “The use of deadly force is authorized,” he confirmed. “Nobody gets in.”
Gwen inwardly flinched. Despite the moistness in the air, her mouth was dry. She crossed her arms protectively in front of her body.
They don’t get out either, I bet.
As a federal agent, Blake was accustomed to flying business class. Priority check-in, decent menu, good wine. He enjoyed it as one of the perks of his job and didn’t abuse his expense account.
Traveling commercial was one thing, a decent way to get from point A to point B with relatively little hassle. Doing it in a private government-owned jet was an entirely different experience. There was no hassle of getting through a congested airport, no standing in line waiting for bags to be checked, no messing with trying to rent a car at the destination site.
This must be how the president travels,
he mused. Every step was smooth, the well-oiled machine humming along with perfect precision. No luxury was spared. The plane was outfitted with every modern convenience that could be stuffed into its narrow frame.
Tucked in a comfy chair, Blake accepted a refill on his drink: a single malt scotch, no ice. A female agent doubling as stewardess served everyone with blank-faced efficiency.
Normally Blake didn’t drink. He didn’t like the idea of losing control of his senses. He was also prescient enough about himself to know he liked the taste of booze, and would swill it without restraint if he set aside his self-control. As the child of an alcoholic, he knew the damages liquor could inflict, both emotionally and physically. His mother had been an ugly drunk.
He vowed his son would never see him in such a condition. He’d sooner cut off his right arm with a hacksaw than go staggering in to pick up Trevor.
Had he not been stressed to the max, Blake would have stuck to coffee. However, the last thing he needed was more caffeine. He was already jumpier than a flea on a hot brick. And even though he’d barely slept since Friday, he’d managed to keep himself going on sheer force of will alone.
A couple of drinks would help him unwind and relax during the flight. It would also help loosen his tongue, which seemed to get tangled in knots whenever he tried to talk to Gwen Lonike.
Sipping his scotch, Blake glanced over at his seatmate. Gwen had the window side. Her head was turned to the view outside, which was nothing but a mass of clouds.
The food in front of her—steamed trout fillets in lettuce parcels with a Thai stuffing—had gone untouched. She hadn’t taken a single bite. Nor had she sipped from the glass of white wine she’d requested. Whatever she might be thinking, she kept to herself. Tension compressed her lips.
Silence dragged between them.
Looking at her, Blake combed through his memory. The little bit of intelligence they’d been able to hastily gather on her didn’t fill a single page. She didn’t party, had no known drug or alcohol problems. Aside from her business she didn’t seem to have any outside pursuits. She’d broken up with her boyfriend almost a year ago and wasn’t presently seeing anyone.
All in all she should be perfectly vulnerable for an act of calculated seduction.
It looked like it would be an easy thing to do, too. Beside him sat an impressively beautiful young woman with a charming smile and a killer body. But she was also a woman who wasn’t human in any sense of the word he understood.
A belated thought occurred. What if mermaids didn’t mate the same way humans did?
It didn’t matter. He’d been ordered to do whatever it took to get close to Gwen.
As for the notion of going to bed with her . . . He wasn’t sure he’d actually go that far. A few days ago he’d been attracted enough to consider asking her out, with the vague idea he might try seeing her beyond a one-night stand. Being ordered to pursue her put a damper on the entire notion. Suddenly it wasn’t play, but a whole hell of a lot of work.
He sighed. In the space of a few days his entire world had spun completely out of control.
Without turning her head, Gwen cleared her throat. “I wish you would stop staring at me,” she said through tight lips. “It’s making me nervous.”
Unaware his perusal had become blatantly noticeable, Blake dropped his gaze. “Sorry,” he mumbled into his glass. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
She reached up, sliding down the cover on the window. “You’re not doing anything,” she admitted, head settling back against her seat. “It’s me. I was just thinking how I should be home now, in my own apartment.” Eyes a little puffy, her gaze was dulled with fatigue.
Flexing his fingers around his glass, Blake considered his half-empty drink. “You aren’t the only one who had plans.” Right now he was just as trapped as she was. If he could fling open the door and jump out, he probably would.
Crooking her brows, Gwen nodded. “I guess that’s true. We all had our separate lives to lead before this got dumped on us.” She glanced down at his arm. “How does it feel, by the way?”
It took Blake a moment to realize what she was asking about. He reached up, touching his arm. “It’s okay,” he answered. “Gives me a little twinge now and again, but I’ll survive.”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’m sorry you got hurt.”
He shrugged and tossed back the remnants of his drink. The scotch burned all the way down his throat, hitting his belly like a slug of lead. “It isn’t the first injury I’ve taken in the line of duty and it probably won’t be the last.” He hadn’t eaten much either and the booze was beginning to give him a slight buzz. Without quite knowing why, he rambled on. “I just do the job and keep my mouth shut. Don’t know why, either. Overall, it’s just one big hassle I could do without.”
A perfect brow lifted. “I would think something like this would be a career maker for an agent working in the alien sciences division.” She grimaced a little as she spoke.
Blake released a heavy breath. “Oh, please. It’s been years since we’ve had any findings to get excited about. It’s not like the world is jumping with paranormal phenomena. Truthfully, most of us sit around twiddling our thumbs until we’re old enough to collect our pensions and get the hell out of government service.”
“So all those claims of alien abductions and crop circles—” she started to ask.
He drummed his fingers against his armrest. “Are absolute bunk,” he finished for her. “Most of them are just crazies who want attention.”
A little smile crept across her sensual lips. “But you still have to check them out, I suppose.”
Blake raked his hands through his hair, pushing it away from his brow. He’d allowed it to grow a little longer than normal lately, an attempt to lessen the severity of his sharp features. “Sure. It gives the government a reason to write me a paycheck and I get to feel like I’m a lot saner than the rest of the world.”
“So what about when you find something, um, extraordinary?”
He shrugged. “Not sure. Haven’t been through the process before. And as you can see, I’m on the same flight you are. It’s a first time for both of us.”
She reached for her wine, then sipped. “First time for everything I suppose.”
Blake motioned for a refill. The agent wielding the liquor bottle complied. “Not a lot of firsts left in my life,” he remarked, going to work on his third glass. He needed to be just a little bit drunker to loosen up. Making time with a woman was one thing. Making time with a woman he’d been ordered to seduce was quite another.
I wouldn’t have made a very good gigolo.
He was more than a little bit annoyed with the notion. Charming a woman who was also an alien offered a strange challenge. It definitely wasn’t in any handbook he’d been given to read. Like a blind man in the dark, he’d have to feel his away along.
Oddly enough, he didn’t think he’d mind the feeling part. With her full breasts, narrow waist, and gently flared hips, everything about her was perfectly proportioned. Under normal circumstances, the notion of slipping between her sheets wouldn’t have been difficult.
However, circumstances definitely weren’t normal. He wondered if there was a word for sex with a mermaid. And what about the tail? Oh, God. Where did they keep those things anyway?
The questions buzzed through his mind, more annoying than any insect. He supposed it was part of his job to find out.
Gwen quirked a brow. “Oh, I’ve got a few left, though I can strike being taken into federal custody off my list.”
He sighed. “If there are more hostiles, we need to work on capturing and containing them before more lives are lost.”
She traced the rim of her glass with a single finger. “As much as I don’t like it, I suppose that makes sense. I still can’t believe Lucky is gone. I liked that crusty old sea dog.”