Heather Graham Read Online Free Page A

she grimaced slightly. “You’re very kind.”
    “Not at all,” Flynn said. “But you are shivering. Juan and I won’t detain you any longer.”
    She gave him a tremulous grin, then stood, wavering slightly. Juan was there to steady her instantly. She rewarded Juan with one of those beautiful, rueful smiles, then righted herself. Donald stepped forward. “Right this way, miss. I’ll bring you tea in half an hour, if that will please you.”
    “Oh, yes, Donald, thank you very much—”
    She had started to follow the valet; she stopped, and turned back. “Thank you both so very much,” she murmured. “So very,’ very much.”
    And then she was gone.
    The two men watched the path of departure for several seconds in silence. Then Juan turned to Flynn.
    “A little mermaid,” he murmured.
    “Hmm. A little mermaid,” Flynn agreed.
    Juan cocked his head. His expression was a bit curious, a bit wary—and more than a little bit amused.
    “You started the day with the fantasy, Flynn.”
    “Maybe I did,” Flynn mused. He arched a brow to Juan. “Fantasy seems a bit thick, though, don’t you think?”
    “That’s what happens when a myth begins,” Juan warned.
    “Apparently,” Flynn said thoughtfully. He rubbed his chin, frowning as he stared at Juan. “Well, amigo , what do you think?”
    “About mermaids?” Juan’s dark eyes twinkled. “Frankly, I had always wondered what a normal hombre would do with one. Gaze at her beauty, touch her hair—but a fin would stand in the way of a great and fulfilling romance!”
    “Ah—but this mermaid has no fin.”
    “True,” Juan murmured. Then his tone lowered, and his dark eyes grew very serious. “So you tell me, my friend, what do you think.”
    “Mermaids,” Flynn said slowly, “are not real. We both know that a mermaid is a creature of a seaman’s fantasy—and his desire.”
    “Yes,” Juan agreed softly. “We both know that. But what if the mermaid is unaware that … mermaids are not real?”
    Flynn smiled grimly. “That is something I intend to find out.”
    Juan watched his friend’s face. “Beyond a doubt, she is beautiful, Flynn. Eyes like the cat; hair of fire. A temptress, if I’ve ever seen one.”
    Flynn grinned at Juan. “Yes. But many women are beautiful. Or perhaps all are beautiful.”
    Juan laughed out loud. “But we both know that this one is unique.”
    “What are you getting at, mi amigo ?”
    Juan shrugged and picked up the brandy bottle, pouring himself a small portion, twirling it about in the glass.
    “I was just thinking about Greek legend.”
    “Greek legend?” Flynn chuckled and decided he could do with a brandy himself. He swallowed down his two fingers full, wincing as he felt the fire in his lungs. “Let’s hear this,” he told Juan wryly.
    “I’m sure you know Homer’s story. The Greeks left Troy, but Odysseus was beset with tempests from then on. He listened to the song of the sirens, and could have been lost upon the rocks.”
    “But he was aware that there was a siren, and he had himself bound to the mast.”
    “Yes.”
    “So?”
    “Perhaps I should tie you to the mast.”
    “And what about you, Juan?”
    “All right.” Juan shrugged amiably. “Perhaps we should both be bound.”
    “That would cause a bit of a problem.”
    “ Sí .”
    “Our siren is a bit of a mystery—and it’s hard to solve mysteries, bound to the mast.”
    “I believe,” Juan said slowly, watching his brandy twirl once again, “that we are, perhaps, evenly met.”
    “Yes, evenly met,” Flynn agreed. He was no longer chuckling, or grinning. His tone had taken on a tension and solemnity. “But … I intend to take and use any edge that I can get.”

CHAPTER TWO
    B RITTANY STROKED THE TORTOISE -shell brush through her hair and stared blankly at her reflection in the mirror. She set the brush down on the old Spanish dresser and gazed at her hands. Belatedly, they were shaking.
    She willed it to stop; the shaking only