Page 115 of Sea's Secret

“I am a fool, but I am fine.”

“A fool? That is a new one. You have never called yourself that before,” I said with a smile.

“Finn–your cousin–I thought he was your betrothed, and after hearing you tell me what your betrothed was like–and your dislike of him–”

“Finn?” I asked, baffled, covering my mouth as I laughed faintly.

“I lost my head. I am so sorry, Meria. I was just trying to protect you.”

“Thank you for caring,” I said.

Was he jealous? Could that mean he feels this something strong building between us, something more than infatuation–something I am afraid to speak out loud.

“I do not want any harm to come to you, Meria,” he said, running a hand over the stubble upon his jaw and chin. “You are my mermaid, afterall,” he said with a handsome smirk.

“Yours, huh?” I asked playfully.

“Yes, I mean, you agreed to that when you boarded this ship.”

“Yes–” I said.

“And so, yes. I value what is mine.”

“I mean, I am only temporarily helping you,” I said, a little defeated.

“Well, maybe, we will see about that. But for the moment, I am happy your cousin is your cousin and on his way to help your people. Right now, we have a large task ahead of us, and I need my mermaid at my side.”

“Yes–and my magic.”

“Your magic does come in handy,” he said with a smile.

“And anything else?” I asked for some other reason.

“What?”

“Is there any other reason you were so upset?”

“Meria, now is not the time to talk of feelings. We are about to go onto a strange island with unknown dangers.”

“What better reason than that to reveal one’s feelings, if this is the end,” I said, looking directly into those swirling, blue eyes.

“This is not the end. You’ll be with me, so you will be alright.”

“You can not know that for sure.”

“You doubt my skills at keeping you safe?”

“No.”

“Meria, You know how I feel without even saying it,” he smirked. “Your entire body reacts when I touch you, just as mine does to your touch.”

“I do not,” I gasped, moving away from him.

“You do, indeed, and it is one of my favorite things. Everyone reacts when I touch them, but only you do not writhe in pain. Only you do not scream in agony. Only you touch me freely and never wish to let me go,” he said, reaching for my hand as if to demonstrate.

“Your touch is warm,” I whispered.

“And only you say so. Everyone else calls my hand ‘cruel.’” He was still smiling in that playful way. I leaned in closer to him, looking up into his handsome face, those deep eyes. “You enjoy my touch–admit it,” he teased.