“Wait … where are we?” she asked as his hand pressed to the small of her back, leading her out of the elevator.
“That thriller you’re reading giving you all sorts of ideas about basements, huh?” Finn asked.
“No one mentioned a basement.”
“Because Monty is too busy trying to rub shoulders with the elite. And Willow wants nothing to do with more concrete. Right through here,” Finn said, typing his passcode into the locked door and then pulling it open.
“Is this some sort of—oh.”
Finn was captivated by the surprise and pleasure on her face as her gaze landed on the Olympic-sized saltwater swimming pool.
He watched, too, as tears flooded her eyes when shestepped closer, kicking off her shoe and dipping her toe into the water.
She had nothing else to say right then as she reached down, shoving her shorts to the ground and then reaching to yank up her top.
He knew he should excuse himself, give her privacy. At the very least, look away.
But his feet stayed rooted in the same spot. And the world could have started to fall apart around them, and nothing would have made him look away as Iris pulled off her camisole and, finally, her panties.
He wasn’t sure what he wanted more—to touch her, or to deserve to.
She was so free, so unguarded. Like she didn’t know her body could be a weapon. Or maybe she did, and didn’t care.
Either way, it made him feel clumsy and crude by comparison. Like every glance was a violation.
Her long waves protected most of her modesty, but, God, he memorized each inch of exposed skin.
His palms itched with the urge to reach out, to run his hand over that subtle curve of her hip, up over her ribs, cup one of her full breasts as she …
No.
He had to stop.
But before he could even begin to clear his mind, Iris dove into the pool, disappearing under the water with a splash that coated his clothes.
For a moment, all he could see were the ripples of the water and her long pink hair.
But then her tail flashed.
That same urge to reach out and touch overcame himagain, but this time in a less sensual way. He wanted to know what that tail felt like, if it was cold or warm like her skin.If she’d react to him touching it the way she did when he rubbed her feet.
Iris swam from one end to the other and back again before she surfaced, her face a mask of pure pleasure as the water cascaded down her face.
Wet, the scales near her hairline were more prominent and colorful. And the marks on her neck that looked like scars had split into subtle gills.
The shell bra, though? That was apparently something mermaids put on. Because she was bare from the waist up. He tried like hell to keep his gaze on the area of her above the water.
“You’ve been keeping this from me?” she asked, her voice even more musical in her mermaid form. Sure, she sounded sad that he’d kept the one thing from her that called to her blood, even if a salted pool was a poor replacement for the sea.
“Honestly, I forgot,” Finn admitted. “I’ve never been down here except when I had a tour of the building before I moved in.”
“You don’t like to swim?” she asked, her tone suggesting that didn’t seem possible.
“Ican’tswim,” he corrected.
“What? What do you mean?” she asked, her brows furrowed.
“I mean I was born and raised in Manhattan. I was never really near water.”
