Selkie's Revenge Read Online Free PDF Page B

leaving them in an almost drugged state. He hoped it would have the same effect on her. His brother Calan was a much better singer, but he wasn’t half-bad.
    As she writhed under him, he recited the ancient lyrics, a lullaby used by his selkie mother when he was a wee pup. By the time the first verse was done, the woman had stopped moving and just stared at Mack, enrapt. He positioned her on her pillow, tucking her hair under her, singing all the while. Before long, she was asleep once again.
    Disturbed, Mack just sat and listened to the soft rhythm of her breathing. In. Out. In. Out . He took comfort in its regularity, praying the next time she woke up she’d be less overwrought and incoherent.
    While she was sleeping, Mack decided it was high time to employ another selkie trick on her. His race was adept at reading the emotions of humans, a power that had served him well over the centuries, especially when trying to discover where determined females had hidden his pelt. He put a hand on her forehead and concentrated hard on what this woman could be feeling, trying to discover the identity of the mysterious Luke and why she might have found herself on a beach with a finman who meant no good.
    What Machar saw in her mind disturbed him even more. He received no images of people, saw no history that could help him help her.
    All he saw was blackness. A torrent of despair, dragging her down into a watery hellhole. Pure, all-encompassing grief.
    * * * *
    Her eyes still closed, Beth got the sense of a tremendous shadow being lifted from her. For the first time in a long time, she had the desire to open her eyes. She did, letting them crack open.
    She was in a hospital room, one with beige walls that needed paint touch-ups and a small window looking out to a gray sky. A gray table in front of her. Beige sheets on which her pale arm lay limp. It seemed all she saw lately was tones of beige and gray, the wan colors of her new life. Anything more vibrant had been torn from her.
    So she hadn’t been dreaming.
    She sensed the man at her side before she ever saw him. She’d known he would be there too, just like in her dream. A magnetic presence who seemed to radiate peace and sensuality and the warmth of a nice bath. She turned her head toward him and almost started.
    Her vision was suddenly flooded with color.
    As she blinked a few times, her eyes adjusting to the light, she took in the hues that surrounded him. The pale pink of his lips. A dark blue Police concert T-shirt. He had the blackest eyes she’d ever seen and hair to match. His hair was wavy and thick, worn in a careless style off his high forehead, ending somewhere around his strong chin. He was a big man, dwarfing his chair, his body covered in taut muscle. Beth couldn’t help but notice how his clothing didn’t quite seem to contain his strength. His muscles threatened to burst forth from his clothes every time he moved. She dragged her gaze back up to his face. He had kind features, despite their obvious sexual power. She liked the few crinkly lines around his eyes, an indication that he smiled a lot. And his generous mouth, currently pulled tight in a serious line, still managed to look flirty. Instinct told her his was a mouth that didn’t express itself in quiet chuckles; it would open wide in hearty guffaws and huge smiles.
    He moved his hands on his lap, and her gaze fell to them. She sucked in a breath.
    He had webbed fingers but not as an animal would. The webbing between his digits was more transparent, less obvious, like gossamer threads joining the base of each long finger. It was beautiful in the way a Moorish castle might be to a visitor from another country. Foreign and exotic.
    The man shifted in his chair, clearly about to say something. At that moment, Beth had a vision slice through her consciousness. All of a sudden, she could see a large, black seal cutting through the waves to reach her. The vision morphed and changed until she could see a naked