Dead Over Heels (wyndham werewolf) Page 8

  “Thank you?”

  “Even if you weren’t gorgeous—which you are—you’d be a catch for any man. And I’d think that even if you hadn’t saved my ass. Multiple times,” he admitted.

  “You’re so nice, Con.”

  “I get off on being ‘nice,’” he said dryly. “In fact, I feel like being ‘nice’ right now.”

  And he was. Extremely nice.

  Chapter 14

  The next few days passed like a dream. A hot sex dream in which he was the star and the prettiest woman in the world was his costar. (He had to stop thinking in terms of movies and television.)

  They bathed together, walked to the freshwater stream together, and she started to teach him to swim. She also disappeared periodically and returned with fish, which they cooked and ate.

  He tried not to worry about her—in fact, given that he’d seen her in action it was stupid to worry about her—but couldn’t help it. The ocean was a big place. What if—what if a bunch of sharks ganged up on her? What if she ran into a bunch of merman bullies?

  So he was always relieved to see her return, and she was always surprised at his relief. And she always said the same thing before she disappeared: “I will come back.”

  He missed his show, but had to admit that life on a deserted island with Ree was a pretty damned nice consolation prize.

  They made love as often as humanly (mermanly?) possible; he didn’t think he would ever get tired of her body. And she was indefatigable, not to mention inventive and uninhibited. He supposed a culture that swam around naked probably didn’t have a lot of hang-ups about sex.

  They gorged on fish and coconuts and she occasionally brought him fistfuls of that odd, puffy seaweed. He longed for a steak, or a burger and a beer, but again, life with Ree on the island had plenty of advantages.

  And one big disadvantage.

  After about a week, he tackled the problem that was troubling him. “Ree, it’s not that I’m not grateful—”

  “Oh, dear, more of your ‘bitching.’”

  “—and it’s not that I’m not loving our time here, because I am.”

  “I can tell,” she said, smiling and pointing at his groin. He’d decided nudity was the way to go as well, but had saved his boxers and T-shirt . . . for what, he wasn’t sure.

  “Stop that, I’m being serious. But Ree, how long are you going to stay with me? Don’t you have a family . . . people worried about you?”

  “No.”

  “So you’re just going to . . . I mean, I might never get rescued.”

  “Are you suggesting I just swim off and leave you?” she said, aghast.

  “Well. Uh. I don’t want you to leave—”

  “I thought you liked me.” Oh, Christ! Was that—it was! A tear was trickling down her left cheek.

  “Ree! I do like you, I adore you, I worship you!” He pulled her into his arms and, luckily, she decided to be pulled (he had estimated that she was at least twice as strong as he was). “But this isn’t any kind of life for you. I’m just saying I don’t expect you to give up everything to stay on this little spit of sand for God knows how long.”

  “I’m not leaving you,” she said, her voice muffled against his chest.

  “All right, all right. Quit cryin’, will ya?” He was in a near panic. He hadn’t thought she had tear ducts! “I’m glad you want to stay, okay? It’s just . . . something that’s been on my mind for a bit, that’s all.”

  So that was settled, and things went on as they had: idyllic and fun and lots of sex.

  For a while.

  Chapter 15

  About a week later, Ree came striding out of the waves looking distracted and carrying five fish.

  “Run into trouble?”

  “Not . . . exactly.”

  “What’s that mean?” he said, spitting the fish.

  “I think—I think I heard someone. One of my folk.

  So I—so I called him.”

  “Oh.”

  “Perhaps he can aid in your rescue.”

  “Oh.” He thought that over for a second. “Jeez, thanks! I guess it’s a long shot, but thanks for trying.”

  “Mmmm.”

  She was distracted the rest of the morning, and although he got the shock of his life when a man with vivid green hair and purple (purple!) eyes strode out of the waves, Ree only looked resigned.

  “Greetings, Reanesta,” he said in a deep baritone, naked as a newt. “Were you calling me? I am Jertan.”

  “Yes.” Instead of shaking hands, they sort of clasped each other’s elbows. “Thank you for coming. This is my—my friend, Con.”

  “Hello, Con.” Jertan looked curious and (odd, given that he was a good three inches taller and at least thirty pounds heavier, all of it muscle) even a little wary. Con reminded himself that the Undersea Folk (for so Ree called them) were new to walking up to ordinary folks. “Are you the biped Conwin Edmund Conlinson?”

  Con felt his eyebrows arch in surprise. “Yeah.” He stuck out a hand and Jertan shook it carefully. Con took his hand back, relieved none of his fingers had been crushed. “How’d you know?”

  “Why, many bipeds are searching for you! They fear you have been lost forever. When I see,” he added, with a sly look at Ree, “that you are in fact doing quite well for yourself.”

  “Watch it,” he said mildly.

  Jertan grinned, showing the same startlingly sharp teeth Ree had. “I will indeed. In fact, I will return to my home on the mainland and give them the coordinates of this island.”

  “That’s—thanks.”

  “Our people must learn to get along,” Jertan said carelessly. “Reanesta, may I be of further assistance?”

  “No, Jertan,” she said colorlessly. “It was kind of you to come.”

  “Courtesy to my folk is no kindness. I am going now,” he said, and without another word turned and walked back into the surf.

  “You guys really aren’t into saying good-bye, are you?” he asked, watching the guy disappear into the waves.

  Ree shrugged.

  “Well!” he boomed with false cheer. “You’ll be rid of me in a few days. That should be a load off your mind.”

  “Yes, indeed.”

  “Pretty soon you’ll be free, and I’ll be back on TV.”

  “Yes.”

  Then why did he have such a sick feeling in his stomach, and why did she look so strange?

  Chapter 16

  The rescue boat showed up three days later. Reanesta watched it, wondering if she might vomit. Could she be carrying Con’s pup? She’d been ill the last few mornings, but it was too soon to tell—and frankly, just the thought of Con disappearing forever was enough to make her feel ill. And she would fight a thousand great whites before trying to keep him on the island when he so obviously wanted to get back to his life. His show.

  His stupid, silly survivor show. Survivor! Ha!

  Con was waving madly, having hurriedly dressed in his shorts and shirt. The large boat honked twice in response, anchored, and then she could see men preparing to lower a smaller boat into the water.

  “I don’t want them to see me,” she told him quietly. “I will leave now.”

  “Wha—now? Now now? But I wanted to introduce you to my crew!”

  “I,” she replied, “do not wish to see them.”

  “Oh.” He rubbed his jaw, which was sporting a reddish brown beard after all this time. “Like that, huh? Done with your little pet project, now?”

  She didn’t know what he was talking about. He was the one who couldn’t wait to leave. “I will not be back,” she said, and turned to leave.

  “Wait!” he snarled, snatching her elbow. She coolly considered breaking his wrist and decided that would be unusually—what was the word? Bitchy. “Jeez, you just can’t wait to get out of here, can you? I gave you the chance last week! You said you wanted to stay with me.”

  “And you,” she said coldly, “love your show more than you love any living creature.” Could
n’t he see her pride? Didn’t he understand she couldn’t ask him to give up his life to stay with her? “Now remove your hand, before I remove your lungs.”

  He let go of her like she was hot. “Fine,” he snapped. “Thanks for saving my life and for all the sex.”

  “You are most welcome,” she replied icily and walked around to the far end of the island where the small boat couldn’t see her, and when she hit the water it was a great relief because the salt water nicely camouflaged her tears.

  Chapter 17

  Con! Babe! We’re all set to start shooting for sweeps. Your comeback is going to be the lead for the week. We’ve already sold all the ad time,” Alan, his producer, burbled.

  “Super.”

  “Con! Babe! You’ve been moping ever since we picked you up off of that godforsaken island.”

  “Don’t call it that,” he snapped. “It was a very nice island.”

  “Con! Babe! What is your damage? Although thank heavens you finally shaved; that mountain man look was just too awful.”

  “Nothin’,” he muttered. They were lounging in his trailer, it was six days later, and he was belatedly realizing that leaving Ree behind was the biggest fucking mistake he had ever made—and that included getting his sorry self shipwrecked in the first place. “Got a lot on my mind.”

  “I can imagine. After your dreadful experience, which of course we’ll re-create so you can show the audience how you survived—”

  He sat bolt upright, and Alan’s watery blue eyes, magnified behind the glasses he affected to make him look older than his twenty-six years, widened. “That’s just it, Alan. I didn’t survive. I mean, I did, but only because a mermaid helped me.”

  “A”—Alan goggled—“a real live mermaid? One of those Undersea Folk they’re talking about on CNN?”

  “Yeah. Her name was Ree and she saved my life about nine times. Towed me to that island where you found me. Telepathically called for help and this guy named Jertan came to the rescue, which is how you heard where I was. She did everything for me. And I—I just left her there.” He buried his face in his hands. “I left her.”

  Alan’s hand was on his shoulder. “It sounds like you two got kind of close.”

  “I sort of fell in love with her,” he said hollowly, “when she bit the hammerhead.”

  “When she did what? Never mind. Let’s find her!”

  “Find her?” Alan’s enthusiasm could be exhausting. “She’s long gone. She lives all over the world, all by herself. And the ocean’s a big damn place.”

  “We’ll use the show,” Alan said excitedly, actually jumping from one foot to the other. His blond hair fell into his eyes and he shook it back. “Every show, you’ll open by talking about—Ree, was it?—by talking about her and asking people to help you find her. Cripes, the guy she called for help—maybe he watches the show!”

  “He did know who I was,” Con said thoughtfully. “I didn’t even get a chance to introduce myself.”

  “There you go!”

  Con felt cautious optimism. “It’s worth a shot.”

  “Great! I’ll go tell the writers to redo the opening.”

  “Oh, they’ll love that.”

  “They will obey or be killed,” Alan said cheerfully, pushing his glasses up on his nose. “You watch. This will work.”

  Chapter 18

  This is Con ‘Bad Baby’ Conlinson and yup, I’m back. I’m just like you . . . only I’m on TV. I’ve gotten really close to the summit of Everest, spent the night in the Everglades (Motel™), faced down numerous angry dogs and cats, gotten thrown out of no less than seven—seven—bars, surfed the insanity of Lake Ontario, stayed dry in Seattle, and been audited twice.

  “And now I’m back after being shipwrecked for a couple of weeks, and I’ll show you how to survive like I did. But first, I need you to bear with me ’cuz I’ve got some personal business to clear up.

  “I want to tell Ree that I love her and I’m sorry I left and I want to marry her if she’ll only agree to live with me. We’ll vacation all over the world, you can come on the show if you want, or not, and wherever we go we’ll make sure there’s salt water nearby.

  “Y’see, folks, I didn’t survive on my own at all. A beautiful mermaid named Ree helped me. She saved my life. She fought off a hammerhead shark for me, and made me eat raw fish so I wouldn’t die like a dog in that rotten rowboat. I owe her my life, and I was stupid to leave her when I got rescued. She’s the real survival expert, and I’m really hoping she’ll agree to forgive me for leaving and come on the show and show y’all how to get along in the middle of the ocean.

  “So, if anyone out there watching knows Ree—her real name’s Reanesta and she has silver hair, silver eyes, and a silver tail—could you please tell her to get in touch with me? We’ll run my contact information in a constant stream, as you can see, on the bottom of your screen. And Jertan, if you’re watching, I’ll be your slave forever if you get word to Ree that I miss her and I need her.

  “Well, thanks, folks, for putting up with that. Now let’s get to the season opener of Con Con the Survivin’ Man.”

  Chapter 19

  After the show had been airing for two weeks, Con decided Ree wasn’t coming. Well, that was her prerogative, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have it coming, leaving her like that for his stupid career. He got the shakes every time he thought of how stupid he’d been, how he’d thrown happiness away with both hands and never even looked back. Stupid Con! Ree had been right all along.

  “Con?”

  But he was going to keep up the appeals, and if the crew had a betting pool he was pretending not to notice, and if his producer was starting to think it was time for a new angle, he didn’t give a shit.

  “Con?”

  “No autographs right now, hon,” he said, walking by whoever-it-was. No, he couldn’t worry about fans right now, his heart was breaking and he was—

  “Stupid Con!”

  He whirled on his heels and—there was Ree!

  “You’re wearing clothes,” he gasped. “No wonder I didn’t recognize you.”

  “Well, I could hardly come to your set in my usual manner,” she said. “May I have some water? I’m dreadfully thirsty.”

  “You—water? Water! Right!” He seized her hand, thinking that he preferred her nude, although she looked nice in her jeans, sandals, and dark blue T-shirt. Her silver hair was pinned up; he preferred it down. Cripes, he’d been aching for her for weeks and had walked right by her. He wondered briefly where she got the clothes, then dragged her to his trailer.

  Once inside he seized her and kissed her until they were both gasping. Then he fished around in the fridge and handed her two bottles of water, which she glugged in twenty seconds.

  “Oh, thank you. Much better. Also, I am carrying your pup.”

  “My—you’re pregnant?”

  “Yes. And I thought you said lovely things about me on your show. And you must be Jertan’s slave, because he told me you were looking for me. How he found me off the coast of Fiji I’ll never know,” she added in a mutter, “but he did. And here I am.”

  “You’re pregnant?”

  “Yes.” She eyed him warily, silver eyes narrowing. “That troubles you? You do not wish a half-breed child?”

  “Troubles me?” He whooped and spun around in a circle. “I’ve got you now, Ree! You’re stuck with me forever! Ha!”

  “That is sweet,” she said. But she looked doubtful. “Well, shit, you don’t seem very fuckin’ excited about it!”

  “I do not wish to trap you, or make you give up your lifestyle. And I am willing to live with you and be your mate—more than willing. But I need the sea, Con. I need to see it, smell it, be in it, every day. Or I’ll die, as you would have died.”

  “No problem,” he promised instantly. “We’ll move the studio to the California coast. We don’t have to stay in Alabama. And you can come on-site whenever you want.”

  “I shall have to,” she said dryl
y, “if only to make sure the father of my pup doesn’t expire of dehydration, malnutrition, or shark attack.”

  “You can be my costar,” he said eagerly. “You’re the real survival expert. I’ve been telling everybody that.”

  “Yes, I saw.” She smiled at him. “That’s why I came back. When you admitted your—ah—failings. To your audience. And your crew. I do not require credit. You may be the survival expert in the family, and the television star. But if you ever leave me again, I will hunt you down and break your silly biped legs.”

  “Agreed,” he promised fervently. “Great. No problem. Man, wait’ll I tell my mom! Will the baby be a mermaid, too?”

  “I do not know,” she replied. “I only know she— yes, it’s a girl—will be part me, and part you. And I never knew I wanted that, until I had it.”

  He snatched her to him and kissed her again, then let go like she was radioactive. “Oh, shit! Did I hurt the baby when I did that?”

  “I hate to tell you this, but the baby will likely be stronger than you the moment she reaches her weaning year.” Then, “You have a mother?”

  “Yup.”

  “Oh.”

  “Don’t worry, she’ll love you. And so will all my brothers and sisters.”

  “All your—how many—”

  “Seven.”

  She sat down as if all the strength had gone out of her legs. “But I don’t know how to be in a family!” she wailed. “My folk died when I was still in my nursing year!”

  “Well, babe, it’s time you learned. You didn’t think I was gonna let you wander the ocean alone forever, didja?”

  “Well. For a little while, yes.” She smiled again. “But then I saw your show. I almost didn’t recognize you without the beard.”

  “And I didn’t even notice you with your hair up and clothes on. Which reminds me”—he pointed—“off!”

  She obliged, seeming happy to be rid of the clothing, and unpinned her hair, and he pounced on her. Then he hesitated. “This won’t hurt the baby, will it?”