"I wish you would kiss me," CC said the words quickly, before she could take them back.
With a moan, he bent his head to hers and their lips touched, gently at first. CC shivered in response.
Against her lips Dylan again asked one last time, "Not frightened?"
For her answer CC lifted her chin and recaptured his lips. Winding her hands around his neck, she pressed herself against his body and opened her mouth to accept him.
His hands caressed her back and then slid to her sides and up, so that his thumbs rubbed erotic circles across the edges of her breasts. CC was lost in the taste of him, which was salty and wild. Her body was on fire and his mouth consumed her.
The tolling of the bell that called the monks to early Mass splintered their world. Dylan broke the kiss and for a moment he rested his forehead against hers while he forced his breathing under control.
"I will take you to the shore."
He leaned back, pulling her up on his chest so that she lay more securely in his arms. With strong strokes of his tail, he swam slowly backwards, with CC nestled against him. When the water was shallow enough to allow her to stand, Dylan loosened his grip and she slid out of his arms.
"I want to kiss you again," he told her. "But I am afraid if I do so, I will never be able to let you go."
CC felt tears burning in her throat and she nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She walked out of the water and back to where she'd left her crumpled shift and shoes. She couldn't look at the water. She didn't want to see him disappearing under the waves. Without looking back, CC pulled on her clothes and started toward the path.
"Christine," Dylan's voice carried easily over the water.
She turned. He was floating exactly where she'd left him.
"Remember that I will be here," he said resolutely. "For an eternity, Christine. I would wait for you for an eternity."
She nodded again and turned to begin her trip up the side of the cliff. This time the path wasn't obscured by darkness, but by her tears.
Dylan watched her go, keeping his eyes on her until she was only a light-colored smudge that climbed up and over the side of the cliff. His heart ached as she disappeared. Why was he doing this to himself? He raked his hand through his hair. Like his mother before him, was he forever fated to love the unattainable?
He could still feel the softness of her lips against his. He clenched his jaw. He wanted her, and not because she wore
Undine's body. He wanted Christine, her sweet humor and her exuberance.
He thought about the innocent trust she had shown him as she had rested in his arms, and her passionate response to his touch. His heart made the decision for him. If he could only have her every third night, then so be it. He would love her, and, just perhaps, this time he would break the cycle and be loved in return.
Chapter 12
CC awoke thinking about him. The internal ache that throbbed with its incessant reminder that her human body was only a borrowed shell mingled with her desire to see Dylan again until she couldn't tell where one began and the other ended. Just tonight, then tomorrow night—then she would be able to go to the water and to him. She sighed and touched her lips. They felt wonderfully bruised and sensitive.
She had dreamed of him. Somehow in another world, in another time, he had called to her, and now she wanted nothing more than to return to the ocean and answer his call.
Two quick knocks on the door made her jump. She cleared the sleep from her throat.
"Yes, I'm awake."
Isabel limped quickly into the room. CC was beginning to wonder if the woman ever slowed down.
"Good morning, Princess," she said in her raspy voice, exchanging the old pitcher of water for a new one. "Sir Andras has asked that you break your fast with him. I believe he has something special planned."
"Something special?" CC sat up and swept the hair back from her face.
"Yes, my lady. Here, let me help you into your dress." Isabel shook her head and clucked what was probably meant as a mild rebuke when she noticed what CC was, or rather wasn't, wearing. "It is unseemly for you to sleep only in that light chemise."
"Why?" She couldn't stop herself from asking as she stepped into the layers of soft fabric that made up her wonderful gown. "That other robe is hot and the material scratches. And the only person who could possibly see me in it is you."
Isabel worked the intricate laces, and her voice took on the tone of a schoolroom lecturer. "It is proper that the coarse fabric of the robe remind us of our sins, which we carry with us eternally, so that we are constantly aware of our need for absolution. To surround ourselves with luxuries is to give in to the temptation of the corporeal world."
CC felt suddenly very sad for Isabel. Had the old woman spent her entire life being deprived of beauty out of fear of damnation? CC was careful to keep her voice light and curious when she asked, "And from whom do we need absolution?"
"The good abbot, of course." Isabel sounded surprised that she should have to ask.
"Isabel, what if the beauty around us is meant as a reminder of the many gifts we have been given, and our need to give thanks for them?" CC asked slowly, as if she had just considered the idea herself.
Isabel made a scoffing noise in her throat, but when CC turned and their eyes met, the old woman was studying her with an openly curious expression.
"It was just a thought," CC said, smiling brightly at Isabel while she put on the jewelry that was a gift from a goddess. Isabel averted her eyes at the show of opulence. CC could only imagine what the old woman's reaction would be if she knew where the jewels really came from.
"Sir Andras is waiting in the dining hall. I can take you there in just a moment," Isabel said as she started to make the bed.
"There's no need—I remember the way. You go ahead and do whatever you need to do, Isabel. I know you must be very busy. Thank you for your help with my dress."
Ignoring Isabel's sullen expression, CC smiled cheerfully and walked quickly out of the room. Having Isabel around was like being shadowed by a brooding school-marm. The woman seemed to dislike her on sight. CC sighed. And no wonder. CC glanced down at her lush, richly clad body. Isabel had been raised to believe beauty and luxury were dangerous and sinful.
"To her I must be the embodiment of everything she's been taught is bad," CC muttered.
She realized the old woman's dislike really bothered her. People usually liked CC—a lot. Maybe not with the passionate response that Undine's body evoked, but CC had never had any problem making friends. Well, she was still the same person; she was just shelled in a different body. CC made a mental note to make sure she got up early enough the next day to make her own bed. She would show Isabel that she wasn't a spoiled, pampered princess. Sexy, incredible body or not, Christine Canady would win the old woman's friendship.
The hallway abruptly emptied out into the courtyard. The sun beaming into the open space was such a contrast to the dim interior that CC had to hold a hand up to shade her eyes from the sudden brightness. Squinting, she stepped out into the well-manicured lawn, heading toward the arched doorway that led to the dining hall. A movement at the well caught her eye, and she felt a shudder of fear pass through her body. Hovering over the middle of the open well was a dark shape, easily noticed in the otherwise brightly lit courtyard. The form was in the shape of a man's torso, but it was insubstantial. CC could clearly see the far wall of the courtyard through it. Its back was to CC, and there was something horribly familiar in the massive breath of shoulder and in the thick length of ghostly hair that floated around the apparition as if it was underwater.
As she watched, it rotated slowly and shifted its glowing gaze until CC was staring into the spectral eyes of Sarpedon. The creature saw her, and his triumphant smile was terrible. She couldn't stop the scream that ripped from her throat.