I froze for one long second, then dove deep as panic swamped me. Swim, my brain screamed at me. Get away from here! Get away from him. It’s too dangerous! Swim, swim, swim!

I started to put as much distance between me and the beach as I could in as fast a time as possible. But I hadn’t gone very far before I realized, with utter certainty, that self-preservation wasn’t what I wanted.

Maintaining the status quo wasn’t what I wanted.

I didn’t want to go anywhere. Not yet. Instead, I wanted to talk to Mark, to hear his surf-and-sand roughened voice as he demanded to know where the hell I had been for all these months.

Of course, that could just be wishful thinking. Maybe he’d forgotten what we’d been to each other as I had so desperately tried to forget him.

Suddenly, I knew I couldn’t go any farther until I was certain. I stopped swimming, turned around. I didn’t go back—I wasn’t that stupid—but I wanted to know what Mark would do. Would he write off his sighting of me to his imagination? Or would he stand in the ocean and call my name, sure that his eyes hadn’t been deceiving him?

I hoped it was the latter, even as I told myself I was being selfish, petty. I should be happy that he’d moved on with his life, with Chelsea. I had moved on with Kona. But nothing I told myself just then mattered—in those few minutes, all I cared about was whether Mark missed me anywhere near as much as I missed him.

“Tempest!” The wind whipped my name straight to me in Mark’s snarly voice. “Tempest, damn it, I know you’re out here!”

I didn’t answer. I couldn’t. My heart had nearly stopped at the first sound of his voice. Instead, I stayed where I was, immersed in the ocean up to my chin, and watched as Mark’s powerful body waded through the water. He was thigh-deep, waist-deep, chest-deep and still he yelled for me.

It made me feel awful, made me feel wonderful, confused me as nothing had since I’d made the decision to be mermaid. I yearned to go to him, everything in my body straining to answer his call. My skin aching for just one touch of his fingers. I had even swum forward a few yards before reality came crashing down on me.
It was time to go.

I took one last look at Mark, told myself it would be my last. I would go back where I belonged and I would never, ever give in to the need to come to this cherished stretch of beach again.

But as I was watching him, memorizing him, Mark dove deep into the water. He was looking for me, as determined to find me today as he had been eight months ago when I’d nearly drowned during a routine early morning surf. Back when this whole alternate life of mine was just beginning.

I watched the surface anxiously, waiting for him to come back up. One minute passed as I counted numbers in my head, then two minutes as I struggled to reassure myself he was okay. Mark was a terrific swimmer, could hold his breath for a long time underwater. Not as long as I used to be able to, but then he was human and I never had been. Not really. Not completely.

My internal count had reached one hundred and fifty-seven before I saw Mark bob back to the surface. I was too far away to see him clearly, but the bright green of his wetsuit stood out against the opalescent azure of the waves. I knew he was sucking in air, gulp after gulp, and my lungs ached in sympathy.
I waited for him to catch his breath and head back to shore and the board he had so carelessly tossed aside. Instead, he disappeared beneath the water yet again.

And again, I began to count and wait and worry.

Every second dragged. One hundred one, one hundred two, one hundred three. There he was, his head and shoulders popping powerfully above the surface. He was closer to me now, so close that I imagined I could see his chest rising and falling.

I started to back up. To submerge myself, to flee. But I watched as he went under again and accepted that I wasn’t going anywhere. I had caused this mess and I had to see it through. Especially since it was Mark who had seen me, Mark who was out here looking for me.

He was the most stubborn person I had ever met and since it was obvious he hadn’t forgotten me, I knew if I just disappeared, he would keep looking until he was completely exhausted. Already, he had swum a good distance from shore. Who knew how much farther he would swim before he finally figured out it was hopeless? And who knew if he’d have enough energy to make it back to land?

I ducked under the water, started to swim toward where I had last seen him. Ninety-four, ninety-five, ninety-six, ninety-seven. He should be heading up for air soon. When I got to one hundred nine, I propelled myself to the surface with a few powerful kicks of my legs.

He wasn’t up yet. I dove back under, swam a little more. Came up again. Still no Mark.

I started to panic. Was he in trouble? Was he caught in the undertow? Was he drowning because of me? I looked back at shore, saw that the guys had all jumped in after Mark. They were still pretty far back, but I knew they were good swimmers. I didn’t have much time.

Going deep one last time, I searched the water around me for Mark’s wet suit. I didn’t see it, didn’t see him. Oh my God, he was drowning, he was—

A hand grabbed my shoulder from behind in a clasp so tight it was almost painful. Instinctively I started to fight, images of Tiamat welling up in my head. She’d found me—or one of her followers had. They would drag me below and Mark would drown out here.

A different energy started to build in me, more powerful, less emotional. I felt it humming in my veins, and I concentrated on gathering it. Stoking it. There was no way I was going down without a fight.

“Tempest!” The word was low and growly and so close to my ear that I couldn’t mistake it for anything but what it was.

I whirled around. “Mark!”

“What are you—”

I threw myself at him, nearly took him under as I wrapped my arms around his neck and squeezed as tightly as I could. And then he was hugging me back, his firm, hard body pressed against me from shoulder to hip, while our legs kicked again and again to keep us from going under.

He pulled away. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you for months—”

My voice froze in my throat. What was I supposed to say? What could I say after all this time?

“Damn it, Tempest!” he snarled. “Answer me.”

I opened my mouth, my mind racing for a response. An excuse. Anything. But before I could do more than take a breath, his lips were on mine and any hope I had of thinking dissolved like so much sea foam.