Page 33 of Sea's Secret

I could do difficult things. I was a pirate. I was The Cruel Hand. I did what needed to be done.

I will not be affected by this maiden.

“You saved me?” I asked. Those eyes were the eyes I remembered seeing when I first awoke.

“Yes,” was all she said, stepping back.

“Clearly, you are not a mermaid,” I said in frustration, looking down instead of up at her, but there, too, she was not properly dressed, with some gauze-like, white fabric barely covering her lower half. I saw more than I should have of her very shapely, long legs. I closed my eyes and cleared my throat.

I’d never seen so much of a woman’s bare legs before. I liked the view entirely too much.

“You are bleeding,” she said, causing me to open my eyes once again, but that time, I looked at her, only using my peripheral vision, making out her fuzzy shape, pointing at my head.

“I am alive; that is all I can ask for,” I said. I, normally, did not speak so kindly to random people, or even act as if I was lucid, but that maiden had saved my life. There was no one else there. I did not need to be rough to protect my name.

“Good,” she said.

“Is this Mermaid Island?”

“Marren.”

“Are we the only people here?”

“Yes.”

“Do you live here?” I found it difficult to speak with someone without looking directly at her. I needed to make her more modest so I could concentrate on our situation and our survival upon that island, instead of on her body. I gulped, taming any improper thoughts of her legs. I may have been many horrible, wicked things, and even though I had spent very little time with maidens, I still knew how maidens should be treated, and I would treat her with respect.

“I do?” she said, but she said it as if it were a question, not an answer. Perhaps, she had been there, stranded for such a long time that she had trouble speaking with people.

“Did you have a shipwreck, too?” I asked as I quickly took off my wet coat and belt. After that, I stood with my back to her, upon wobbly legs, and took off my vest and shirt. I set my shirt, vest, coat, and belt in a pile, then pulled my vest and coat back on.

“You can wear this; it seems your shipwreck took your clothes,” I said, pointing to the pile I made of my shirt and belt, but not looking at her.

“Thank you,” was all she said. After a few minutes of wrestling, I turned to see she was wearing my shirt, but upside down, and the belt was placed like a necklace around her neck. I smiled, holding back a laugh. I had no idea why she had done such a thing, but it looked hilarious.

“Oh, actually–” I walked to her and explained my idea about how to wear the shirt and use the belt to cinch it in place, as the shirt was three sizes too big for her and long enough to cover her knees. I desperately needed her legs covered as much as possible. They were very distracting. I turned again as she situated herself. Something hit me. Seeing her in my shirt, it seemed so personal, but it was the least I could do for my rescuer.

“Much better. What is your name?” I asked.

“Meria,”

“That is a lovely name. I am Dominick,” I said, then paused. Why had I given her my prince name? I never gave anyone that name unless I was at a castle. “How long have you been here?” I asked, shaking my foot to dislodge the sand.

“Not very long.”

“So, you must have been a part of another shipwreck and washed up on this shore? Did you see our shipwreck and come to help?”

“Yes,” she said with a nod.

“That’s pretty dangerous.” I looked down at my hands. “You did not happen to see any black gloves?”

She shook her head. It was what I assumed. I had lost them during the wreck. I would just be sure not to touch Meria. That would be easy enough; I never struggled with that in the past when around women.

“I am blasted thirsty,” I said with a hot, itchy throat.

“Not-sea-water,” she pointed behind us. What a weird thing to call fresh water.

“Can you show me? I could really use a drink.”