LITMIR.BIZ

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Southern town.

      But the life-size mermaid statue in the middle of the square was a departure from the norm. Rainwater streamed off the mermaid’s stone-and-steel form, giving the impression that the siren had just emerged, dripping, from the nearby gulf waters. The etched half smile on her face bespoke secrets buried deep within the mysterious body that was part sea creature, part human.

      Bayou La Siryna’s founding fathers might have bought into the mermaid myth—old newspaper articles recorded local sightings—but nowadays, the natives scoffed at such nonsense. Most didn’t even recollect that the town’s name was given in recognition of the sea sirens.

      Which suited Jet fine. With modern science, if humans suspected the old tales were true, mermaids would be hunted down and subjected to who-knew-what kind of experiments.

      Her heart quickened as she rounded the curve on Shell Line Road with its row of rental bungalows nestled in thick pine and cypress. Lights glowed on porches and behind curtained windows like a promise, beacons of love and comfort that pierced her with longing. At one time she’d dreamed of fitting into this human world, since the merfolk didn’t have much use for her.

      There it was. Third cottage on the left, where Perry had once lived. Light glimmered inside and a red Mustang was parked in the driveway, the kind of flashy car Perry would drive.

      Three years. Three freaking years with no phone call, no letters, no nothing. She’d waited for an apology or any expression of remorse, had hoped incarceration would lead to introspection and recognition that he needed to change and beg her forgiveness. Stupid, stupid and more stupid. The memory of the last time she saw him replayed in her mind. During an expedition, Chilean marine police had caught them unawares. If only she had still been underwater, she would have heard the boat engine miles away. But after hours of bringing up the day’s catch, they’d taken a nap.

      At their capture, Perry had pointed a finger at her, declaring it was her boat and her stuff. He’d even told them she was a freaking mermaid, a claim they laughingly dismissed. She’d had no choice but to jump overboard to protect her kind from possible exposure. The bleat of the horn and the shouting above had given way to the silence of the sea. But the usual numbing cocoon of the deep fathoms had failed to silence her despair.

      In many ways, it still haunted her thoughts.

      I’ve never gotten over it. All the pain of that betrayal churned inside her like a giant tidal wave as she pulled in behind the Mustang. Perry probably thought they would get back in business together. Hell, why wouldn’t he think she’d run back to him? In the past, she’d always done so, had overlooked his faults and dalliances.

      She’d thought they really had something, until Shelly and her fiancé, Tillman, became a couple. Their trust and acceptance of one another had been a revelation. Jet realized that all along she’d wanted something Perry was incapable of giving—love.

      She got out of her truck, hardly noticing the rain pelting her body as she strode to the door and rapped loudly. Deep inside came the muffled sound of a television. The volume lowered and footsteps approached. The door creaked open and there Perry stood.

      White teeth flashed as he gave an easy grin, leaned his tall, sculpted body against the doorframe and crossed his arms. Jet reluctantly drank in the familiar image. Being near her former lover, with all their physical history, churned up memories and feelings she’d rather forget.

      Don’t even think about it. Jet lifted her chin and met his amused smile. Conceited ass. Perry’s shoulder-length brown hair curled in waves, while a faint bit of stubble lined his jaw.

      He gave a slow, knowing wink. “You are as beautiful as ever.”

      “Prison seems to have suited you,” Jet snapped.

      Perry’s smile didn’t falter. “Direct as always.”

      “Aren’t you going to ask me in? I’m getting soaked out here, in case you haven’t noticed.”

      “Since when has water ever bothered you? I remember you love rain.” He stepped aside and waved an arm. “But do come in,” he added, as if offering the keys to the palace.

      She swept past, careful not to brush against him. Still, she caught a whiff of his designer aftershave, which smelled of male skin warmed by the sun. Unable to pronounce the Italian product’s name, Jet had dubbed it Aqua de Sexy. It tugged at memories of them together, her face pressed against his chest.

      But the memory didn’t devastate her as she expected. Instead, Jet recalled Landry Fields’s soapy after-shower scent: simple, unpretentious and casually masculine. No use dwelling on that. Fields was not potential boyfriend material. Besides, getting seriously involved with anyone would mean again confiding that she was a mermaid, which compounded the risk of their secret race being exposed to scrutiny.

      Jet drew a deep breath. “I’ve just come from the IRS office. The auditor asked all kinds of questions about my investments with Gulf Coast Treasures and Salvage.”

      Perry shrugged.

      “Has anyone from the IRS contacted you?”

      “Nope. The only good thing about prison is that there’s no paperwork to file. I haven’t had an income to report in years, so there’s nothing they could question me about.”

      “You were sentenced to ten years. Why did you get released early?”

      “Good behavior.” He lowered his chin and waggled his eyebrows. “You know how good I can be.”

      He crossed the distance between them, but Jet turned away and walked to the window. She was too unnerved to handle the closeness. “How well do you know the owners of that company?”

      He scowled. “Who said I knew them?”

      “You did. When we first started selling stuff we pulled from the ocean, you claimed to know a company willing to accept our merchandise with no questions asked.”

      “I heard about them from other divers and met up with a couple of them a time or two.” Perry laid his hands on her shoulders and guided her toward him.

      Jet clenched her jaw, willed her body not to respond to the steady pressure of his palms.

      “We have far more interesting things—” he gave a smoldering once-over gaze from the top of her body to the bottom “—to discuss.”

      “Like how you tried to screw me over three years ago?”

      He ran a hand through his long brown locks. “Yeah, that.”

      Jet shook off his hands and paced. The cottage was sparsely furnished, like most rentals, but clean despite a dirty dish on the kitchen table and a newspaper spread out on a coffee table.

      “I only told the police you were a mermaid to protect you.”

      Jet stopped in her tracks. Somehow, he always managed to catch her off guard, like he had since they met five years ago. He’d reeled her in like a dumb, hungry fish. She’d been so lonely, so damned grateful he accepted her shape-shifting body. And when Perry went away, Jet was left gasping and flailing on land, like the same stupid fish she’d been all along.

      Her jaw dropped and she snorted in disbelief. “You did it to protect me?”

      Perry clasped her arms in one swift movement, his eyes a mask of concern. “I knew if I didn’t piss you off, you’d stay with me out of stubbornness. No sense both of us going to jail.”

      She found herself drawn into an embrace. “Stop it.” She pulled away and inhaled deeply. “If I’d been captured and interrogated, my fate would have been far worse than your jail time.”

      “Nobody would have believed me.”

      “Not at first. No. But if they probed enough, saw holes in our story of how we accidentally found treasure, ran background checks on our enterprises...”

      “I wouldn’t have told them

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