“You know, Tito’s mom said she was working until late. I was just going to drop him off with his grandmother. Maybe we could all go back to dock and then I could cook some of this nice fish up for dinner?” He was talking to Fergus, but his eyes kept straying to a glowing Beka as she chatted with Tito, who was reenacting the entire fish-catching adventure, complete with exaggerated hand gestures.
Fergus shrugged, what looked like genuine regret on his face. “That sounds very pleasant, and I am quite fond of cod. But I am afraid that Beka already has other plans.”
“Other plans?” Marcus asked. A cloud seemed to blot out the sun.
“Indeed,” Fergus said, obviously unaware of the effect of his words. “I believe she has a date.”
“A date,” Marcus repeated. Of course she had a date. She was a beautiful, fun-loving woman. Of course men asked her out. Not men like him, of course. But still, it was absurd for him to be so shocked. “Probably with some surfer or hippie New Age tree hugger.”
Fergus gave him a blank look from under red brows. “Why would anyone hug a tree?” He gazed from Marcus to Beka and back again, and comprehension spilled into his eyes, along with a sympathetic look that Marcus chose to ignore. “And yes, she told me they met while surfing. They seem to have much in common.”
Of course they did. Marcus stifled a sigh and resisted the impulse to throw the ice chest into the sea. And he and Beka had nothing in common at all. What the hell had he been thinking?
TEN
BEKA GAZED AT the food spread out on the blanket in front of her and blinked rapidly a couple of times, a mystified look on her face. “When you said a picnic on the beach, this isn’t quite what I envisioned.”
Kesh surveyed the feast he’d assembled, awash with smug satisfaction. Smoked salmon, oysters, caviar, chilled lobster—all the glorious gifts of the sea, along with a few more landlocked pleasures, including a couple of bottles of expensive champagne. He was a prince of the Selkies; he knew how to dazzle a woman. And Human women were especially easy to dazzle. If the Irish accent and suave good looks didn’t get them, flattery and charm would. The Baba Yagas might be the most powerful witches on the planet, but they were still, on some level, just Human women. In the beginning, anyway. And this Baba Yaga was still very young.
“Only the very best is good enough for such a beautiful, gracious creature as yourself,” Kesh said with a flourishing bow. He could feel her falling under his spell already.
Beka gave him a curved crescent of a smile that seemed more amused than awed, the expression on her face hidden momentarily by the silken fall of her loose blond hair. “I’m afraid I’m a bit underdressed,” she said, waving a hand to indicate her simple but colorful batik wraparound skirt and red scoop-necked tank top. “If I’d known we were dining at the Ritz, I would have worn my diamonds.”
Taken aback for a moment, Kesh rebounded by pouring her a crystal goblet full of effervescent nirvana. “You look lovely no matter what you wear, Baba Yaga. And I would be happy to adorn you with the pearls of a thousand oysters, if you but say the word.”
Beka choked a little on her champagne. “Goodness. Do those kinds of lines usually work for you?” The twinkle in her eyes took the sting out of her words.
He gave her a rueful grin. “They do indeed, darlin’, but I fear that my attempt has failed to impress you. For that I am sorry. I have no wish to offend.”
She laughed, helping herself to a cracker heaped with caviar. “Oh, I’m impressed, Kesh. This is a delightfully over-the-top picnic, and I intend to enjoy every bite. But you can save the flowery sentiments for someone they’re better suited to. I’m not a ‘pearls of a thousand oysters’ kind of girl.”
Kesh studied her in the moonlight, rethinking his original approach to wooing her. She truly was lovely, her golden hair shimmering almost silver in the moon’s enchanted light as she lounged across from him on the raw silk blanket. It would be a shame to have to kill her. He would just have to take a slightly subtler tack.
“Tell me,” he said, gazing intently at her over the rim of his glass, “how goes the search for the solution to my people’s problem?”
Her relaxed posture tensed, legs pulled in and tucked under her skirt, shoulders hunching as she hugged her knees. “Not all that well, I’m afraid. There still isn’t anything obvious that I can see.”
Pouring more wine into her goblet, Kesh favored her with his most sympathetic look. “Oh? That is a pity. And all those Merpeople and Selkies depending on you.” He shook his head. “You have no idea what is poisoning the water?”