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  Michael's face perked up and he jumped aboard, adjusting his baseball hat. "Cool! Then she can stay with us, right?" He went right over to her and shook her hand. "Nice to meet you, Angel. You can be my friend, too."

  That wasn't exactly what Logan had in mind.

  "I'd like that, Michael."

  There was that melodic voice again. Maybe she was

  a singer. She certainly had the face to be a celebrity, and enough of them flocked to these beaches every year.

  Meanwhile, his son was literally jumping all over the place. "So, can she, Logan?"

  Can she what? There were a lot of things he wanted her to do—

  "Can she stay with us? She can sleep in my room."

  Logan tried not to laugh. Sleep in Michael's room? Logan didn't think so. If she was going to be sleeping in anyone's room—

  "Michael, I think the guesthouse would be a better idea."

  Angel smiled and Michael started bouncing again. "Cool!"

  Shit. What had he just agreed to?

  Chapter 2

  ANGEL COULDN'T BELIEVE HER GOOD LUCK. SHE'D HIT THE crabpot!

  Then she saw Harry's fin circling off the bow for the eighth time since she'd awoken and amended that. Luck had nothing to do with this; Hammerhead Harry did. And wouldn't it tweak his big ol' blockhead to know he could be helping her right into her dream job?

  Served the shark right. Try to eat her, would he? Keep her stranded on a boat? Ha. Angel couldn't stop her grin. "Thank you very much for your offer, Logan. I'd love to stay."

  "All right!" Michael bounced again—she couldn't wait to try that when she was alone—but his father looked a little green around the gills.

  "Michael, I don't think—" The little black box on Logan's hip started playing music. He glanced at it and exhaled. "I need to take this call. We'll discuss Angel staying with us when I'm done."

  Long legs carried him fluidly off the boat and up the dock, one arm swinging, head held high as he spoke into the box.

  She had studied the way her brother Reel walked hundreds of times. He was the only two-legged Mer in their world, but walking was so different when Logan— Humans—did it. The lack of buoyancy on land made the flexion and extension of the muscles slightly different, requiring the ability to balance between two shifting ap pendages, the heel-toe rhythm, the contractions of his gluteus maximus…

  "What happened to your tail, Angel? Is it going to grow back? Are you gonna stay here forever? Can I tell Logan that you're a mermaid?" Michael bounced beside her, his whisper loud enough to carry on the warm sea breeze.

  Angel guided Michael to a pull-down bench behind the captain's chair, stepping on the lid of the catch box on the deck to make sure it was closed securely. No need for Logan to discover where she'd stowed away last night to escape Harry. Nor that Michael had seen her, helped her, and hid her. All under his father's un suspecting nose.

  She tugged Logan's soft shirt beneath her as she sat. She'd forgotten the nudity part of the transformation. Thank the gods Logan had thought so fast. "My tail will come back if any seawater touches it, so it's very impor tant that doesn't happen around grown-ups, okay?"

  Michael's little chest puffed out as he sat on the cush ion next to her. "I'm the only one who knows about you, aren't I?"

  Angel tapped the rim of his hat. "Yes, you are. And I wasn't even supposed to let you know, so we definitely can't tell Logan."

  "Are you gonna get in trouble?"

  So much it wasn't funny. Unless she could make this situation work to her advantage. "Not if we keep my tail a secret, okay?"

  Yes, Rod, her brother the High Councilman, would be so proud of the lies.

  Not.

  Truth was, she wasn't either, but what could she do? Harry had been all about getting a Mer meal last night, and she'd been the only one around. So she could either have climbed aboard the fishing boat, or…

  Or nothing. Harry or the boat. There was no other choice.

  "Okay, I won't tell. I can keep a secret. Cross my heart and hope to spit."

  That comment didn't make any more sense now than it had last night when she'd slipped on board just before dark. On the lookout for adult Humans, she hadn't seen the child, but he'd certainly seen her.

  One thing about kids: they were infinitely more ac cepting than their adult counterparts—which was the basis of her plans for the Mer-Human Coalition her brother was forming. Michael had gone with the fact that she was a Mer and understood her need to stay out of sight of adults. He hadn't turned her in then, so she had high hopes he wouldn't do so now.

  Not that she was condoning his lying to his father, but when it came to her life or a child's honesty, she was going with her life.

  Still, The Council could bring charges against her for this.

  If only Hammerhead Harry had kept to the truce agreement with The Council, she could have conducted her research without any detection, let alone face-to-face contact. All she'd been trying to do was monitor Human fishing practices, but the stupid shark just had to show up. Then she'd had to unload everything to the bottom of the sea so she could have a chance of outswimming him. There went all her notes, all her tools, and a lot of her self-respect.

  But she now had the perfect opportunity to redeem herself and learn enough to earn the position of director of the Coalition she'd wanted in the first place.

  All thanks to Harry—not that she'd ever tell him.

  "I'm sorry I caught you last night, Angel." Michael unwrapped a small pink, rectangular item he'd pulled from his pocket, then shoveled it into his mouth. "I didn't mean to hurt you."

  She stopped herself from rubbing the spot just above her big toe where Michael's fishhook had sliced into her fluke. First time in recorded history that a Human had actually hooked a Mer with a fishing line—and a child, no less. Without trying. She wouldn't be spreading that story around any time soon.

  And, fish! That hook had hurt. But, ironically, it had been what saved her. She wouldn't have thought to use a boat to escape a shark otherwise.

  "It's okay, Michael. Mers are fast healers, and you did save my life. Harry wouldn't come near me once you caught me." Sharks were more afraid of Humans in hunting mode than of going hungry.

  Michael let the colorful wrapper flutter to the deck. "What's a Mer, Angel? I thought you were a mermaid."

  Angel picked up his refuse and held it out to him. "Here. You shouldn't litter. It damages the planet."

  "But it's only a piece of paper." He chomped on the substance… ah, chewing gum.

  Amelia the pelican was a huge fan of the stuff, which she found on any dock, beach umbrella, or other surface where Humans congregated. Talk about dam aging the planet.

  "It's only a little piece of paper from you, Michael, but what if everyone did the same thing? Then there would be a lot of paper."

  "Oh. Okay. I'll throw it in the trash." He took the paper from her and shoved it back in his pocket. That was a start.

  "Good job." She patted his knee, curbing the desire to study it. She had her own knees now and could examine them all she wanted. She ran a hand over them, then extended a leg. Flexed it. Wiggled the toes.

  "So what's a Mer?"

  Right. Focus on the conversation. She'd have time enough later to study the workings of her legs.

  "We are called Mers, Michael. Both male and fe male Mers. You Humans use the terms 'mermaids' and 'mermen,' not us." As for the maid part, well, that hadn't been true for selinos, but she wouldn't be ex plaining that.

  "Mermen? There are mermen, too? Cool!" This time Michael forgot to whisper and—of course—his father was heading their way.

  "Sssh!" Angel touched a finger to Michael's lips. "Remember, it's our secret."

  Michael followed Angel's gaze. "Right. Our se cret. But can I tell Rocky?" The little boy was back to whispering.

  "Who's Rocky?"

  "My pet raccoon. Well, he's not really a pet. He's a toy. I wanted a real pet, but Rainbow said no and I didn't ask
Logan yet."

  "Who's Rainbow?"

  Michael grabbed the rim of his cap and tugged it lower until half his face was hidden. "Oh, she's my mom."

  So Logan was married. Darn. She wouldn't have minded watching Human courting rituals. Oh well, beggars—and landed Mers—couldn't be picky. She'd be happy with what she got.

  Then Logan reached the boat and she was very happy.

  Logan Hardington was one fine-looking specimen— Human or Mer. Handsome face and warm, dark brown eyes below thick hair the color of a sea lion's pelt after a few hours in the sun. The light dusting of hair on his chest was a shade darker. Broad, tanned shoulders ta pered to a taut abdomen where his black shorts rode low on his hips above long, well-toned legs. His face and lean, muscled body looked as if they'd been carved by a master sculptor.

  Her sister, Mariana, who was a sculptor, would love to get her hands on him. Of course, Logan's wife might have something to say about that.

  Here's hoping the wife didn't mind a houseguest.

  Logan climbed aboard, and Angel took mental notes of which muscles contracted, the angle his upper body assumed to counterbalance the forward momentum, how his arms moved… If only she had her tablets to mark down these observations. Damn Harry.

  "Hey, sport," Logan said, "I'm sorry, but there's a change in plans. No fishing today. I have to handle something with work. We'll go tomorrow." Then he looked at her. "As for you, Angel, I can drop you at the bus station—"

  "But you said she could stay with us," Michael inter rupted, hopping up from his seat and planting his fists on his waist. "I don't wanna watch TV anymore while you work. I want Angel to play with me. Why can't she be my babysitter?"

  "Michael, hold on a minute—"

  "Sit on a baby?" Why in-the-sea would anyone want to do that?

  Angel didn't know how Humans cared for their infants since her sister-in-law, Erica, had remained on land for the birth of her daughter, but she would have thought that sitting on a baby was a bad idea. Showed how much she knew. Book studies could only get her so far. She needed real-life practicals, and this one had landed in her lap—and she actually had a lap.

  But how had Michael gotten a baby? Her research showed Humans weren't capable of reproduction until the onset of puberty, the same as Mers.

  Both males stared at her. "Don't you know what a babysitter is?" Logan asked while Michael giggled.

  Obviously not what she'd thought it was. And, appar ently, it was odd for her not to know what one was. "Of course I do. I was only joking."

  Michael figured it out and managed to muffle his laughter, but she could see the questions behind Logan's eyes. She'd have to do a better job of fitting in.

  "See, Logan?" Michael tipped the rim of his cap back. "Now you don't have to take off from work tomorrow. Angel can watch me. I won't have to go to daycare, and you can save the money. Rainbow likes to save money."

  The child's smile was every bit as wide as Harry's, but full of lovely little teeth, a few spaces between them where the baby ones had fallen out. She wondered how many gold coins Matilda had placed beneath his pillow or if the Tooth Fairy Brigade only celebrated Mer tooth loss.

  "Michael, that's not going to happen. Angel has more important things to do than watch you while I'm at work."

  Ah. Babysitting. An odd phrase, but now completely understandable. Her people called it Mer-minding.

  "Actually, I don't. My study doesn't take all my time." Not to mention, babysitting Michael would be her field study.

  "See? She can!" Michael was now bouncing on both feet, his cap crushed between his hands, his thick auburn hair, so like his father's, flopping by his ears.

  Logan was trying to glare at her over his son's head, but Angel purposely kept her gaze averted. She liked Michael's idea and didn't want to give Logan any am munition for his argument.

  Yes, Rod would have issues with this whole thing, but if he'd allowed her the opportunity to apply for the job she'd wanted, this situation could have been avoided. But Rod had spouted off about no more Human inter action by members of his family—interesting how he came up with that stipulation after he and Reel had both married Humans—and then Harry had pulled his idiotic move, so her fins were tied.

  Besides, when she pulled this off and went back to Atlantis with firsthand information, she'd be the perfect candidate for director of the Coalition. Rod would have to give her the position—who better to work towards fostering Mer-Human relations with the goal to save the planet than a Mer who'd actually lived among them? The Council would thank her for the leaps she'd made in advancing Mer knowledge.

  If she didn't blow it…

  "Michael, why don't you go see Tony so Angel and I can talk."

  "I don't wanna." Michael puffed out his lower lip and crossed his arms. "You said I could have what ever I wanted for my birthday and I want Angel for my babysitter."

  Logan looked ready to spit snails. Instead he rolled his eyes toward the heavens and scraped a hand across his jaw, the slight rasp setting Angel's skin to tingling.

  "Look, sport, no offense to Angel, but I don't know her well enough to feel comfortable about her watching you."

  She glanced away when Logan's eyes drilled into hers, and she hunched down in front of the little boy.

  "Michael, how about if we do this on a trial basis? Maybe your dad would feel better about me babysitting if he spent the day with us. If he's happy with the way I look after you, we can discuss the situation then, okay?"

  "But I don't want you to go away." The little boy's bottom lip trembled.

  Angel couldn't help herself. She hugged him. He was no different from any other child she knew. "I'm not going anywhere, Michael. I promise."

  ***

  Oh, hell.

  Logan looked at the scene before him and tossed in the proverbial towel. First the problem at work, now this. He couldn't deny Michael the one thing he wanted for his birthday, but he also couldn't leave his son in the care of a total stranger.

  It was a good thing he could work from home. He'd been doing it since Rainbow—Christine—had dropped Michael off with nothing but a note, a stuffed toy rac coon, a bag of tattered clothing, and a few children's books. What were a couple more days? Not the ideal situation, but school wasn't that far off.

  "All right, Michael. If that's what you want, Angel can hang out with you while I'm working today, okay?"

  "You're the best, Logan!" Michael wrapped his thin arms around Logan's thighs, giving him his first official Dad hug.

  A lump formed in Logan's throat. What would it take to get a "Dad" out of him? Logan didn't know, but if caving in to babysitter demands was all it took to get a hug, he'd give the kid whatever he wanted.

  He patted Michael's shoulders. No, actually he wouldn't. The hug was a nice perk, but responsible par ents didn't give in to every whim and demand, even if doing so solved problems.

  Not that he had any idea of responsible parenting given the pair he'd grown up with, nor the mother he'd inadvertently chosen for his son. Common sense said you couldn't give a kid everything he wanted, although he had to believe that giving in every now and then wasn't so bad.

  He had wondered how he was going to be a single, working parent when Michael had arrived and had put Give Up Sleep at the top of the list. Visit a Dozen Day cares had taken priority for tomorrow. But now, with Angel around, those To-Do items were no longer necessary.

  Then Angel stood up and smoothed his T-shirt down almost to her knees, and Logan had to yank his gaze from her legs. Actually, he would be visiting someplace tomorrow: a women's clothing store.

  She stretched, and the T-shirt slid up her thighs.

  No. Make that today. The problem at work could wait another hour or so while they found her something ap propriate. If Angel was going to be around his son, a T-shirt wouldn't cut it. She needed clothing. Now. For his sake even more than her own.

  Chapter 3

  THE SEAGULLS WERE LAUGHING AT HER.

  At
op a lighting fixture at the end of the dock, the birds started making noise the minute Angel stepped off the rocking boat.

  They could cut her some slack. So she was a little un steady. This was the first time she'd ever had legs, and disembarking a rocking boat wasn't easy. Not to men tion, she was still floating over the fact that she'd pulled it off. Logan was letting her stay. She had an excuse and an opportunity to test out her plans for the Coalition.

  Now she just needed to figure out how to pull off a disappearing act every other night to ensure the return of her tail so she could stay for more than a day or two. Much as she wanted to learn about Humans and get the directorship, she didn't want to sacrifice her tail to do so, which is what would happen if she had legs for more than two consecutive sunsets.