Escaping the Siren Prince

Say It

His eyebrows rose.

“With me?”

“No. The sea bass.”

That laugh again.

Cora felt it somewhere considerably lower than she should have.

There was something almost melodic about Luka’s laugh, a deep, warm sound with an effortless musicality that seemed to roll through the room and settle against her skin. It was different from his voice, less controlled, more intimate somehow, and every time she managed to pull it from him, she caught another glimpse beneath all that maddening composure.

Worse, she liked knowing she'd caused it.

She liked the way his eyes warmed when he looked at her afterward, the way the smile lingered at the edges of his mouth, and the unmistakable awareness that had been building between them all evening. By the time his gaze met hers again, Cora was suddenly far too conscious of how little space remained between them.

Luka set down his glass without looking away from her and held out his hand.

Cora took it.

He drew her toward him, one hand settling at her waist while the other closed around hers.

Cora had noticed Luka's hands before. It would have been difficult not to. But having one of them wrapped around hers made her acutely aware of just how much larger it was, his fingers easily enclosing her own while his palm rested warm against hers. The hand at her waist was worse. Broad and steady, it spanned enough of her side that she could feel the heat of it through the thin fabric of her clothes.

And immediately, this felt like a terrible idea.

Not because she was afraid.

She wasn't.

That was becoming the problem.

Cora was tall herself, tall enough that most men didn't make her particularly conscious of it, but Luka still had at least a half a foot on her. Standing this close forced her to tip her chin to meet his eyes, bringing her body nearer to his in the process. His chest was solid against her, his frame broader and stronger than she'd appreciated from a safer distance, and suddenly she was aware of every place they touched and every place they didn't.

She'd already known he was attractive. Objectively, offensively attractive.

Knowing it from across a table was apparently very different from having all six-foot-six plus of him pressed close enough that she could feel the rise and fall of his breathing.

His gaze lowered to hers, and whatever amusement had been there moments ago had changed into something hungrier.

Then his thumb moved slowly against her waist.

Her stomach tightened.

“You're staring,” Luka murmured.

“Observing.”

“Of course.”

“For science.”

“Your commitment to research is admirable.”

She smiled and his gaze dropped to her mouth.

Again.

Cora's smile disappeared.

“There.”

“What?”

“You did it again.”

Luka didn't pretend not to understand this time.

His eyes lifted slowly to hers.

“So I did.”

Neither of them moved.

The music continued quietly around them.

Cora became aware of everything at once. His hand at her waist. Her palm against his shoulder. The warmth of his body. The faint scent of wine and salt and whatever soap he'd used that morning.

“Are you going to kiss me?” she asked.

Luka's expression changed.

“Do you want me to?”

Cora should have thought about that.

She didn't.

“Yes.”

His hand slid to the back of her neck.

And then Luka kissed her.

Not like underwater.

No panic.

No saltwater filling her lungs.

No desperate need for oxygen.

His lips met hers in a soft, tentative exploration, a question rather than a statement.

This time Cora knew exactly what was happening.

And she kissed him back.

She responded in kind, her eyes fluttering closed, her body swaying slightly into his. The kiss was slow, a dance of give and take, a gentle back and forth that left her sighing into his mouth.

His hand shifted to her cheek, his thumb brushing against her skin, a feather-light touch that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel the restraint in him, the careful control, and it made her bold. She nipped at his lower lip, a soft bite that made him jerk back slightly surprised, but before he could react further, she chased his retreat, her tongue darting out to soothe the sting, to trace the seam of his lips.

He groaned, a low rumble that vibrated through her, and the change in him was immediate. His hand tangled in her hair, tilting her head back, and his mouth slanted over hers with newfound urgency. She gasped, her lips parting, and he took full advantage, his tongue sweeping in to tangle with hers.

Her body responded instantly, her heart pounding in her chest, her breath coming in short gasps. She could feel the heat pooling between her thighs, could feel the tightening in her core. Her hands clutched at his collar, holding on as he deepened the kiss, as he consumed her. She could feel the shift in him, the loss of control, and it sent a thrill through her, a primal satisfaction that she could do this to him.

That was when she felt his heartbeat.

Strong and unmistakable beneath her hand, each beat pressing faintly against her palm. Once, then twice, steady enough that she barely registered it at first.

Until it stopped.

Cora went still against him.

For one impossible second, there was nothing beneath her palm. No flutter, no faint pulse she might have missed. Luka's heart had simply stopped beating.

Then it struck again.

Hard enough that she felt it clearly.

Cora pulled back just far enough to look at him, her hand remaining pressed to his chest as another beat followed, then another.

Her own pulse had quickened, thundering in her ears from the kiss and now something else entirely.

Beneath her palm, Luka's heart quickened with it.

Cora frowned as the rhythm settled, recognition slowly replacing confusion.

His heartbeat was matching hers.

Beat for beat.

Luka's eyes met hers and something had changed in his expression.

Something she couldn't identify.

“Did your … was that … did your heart just stop?”

His hand remained at the back of her neck.

“You've had a lot of wine.”

Cora's eyes narrowed and held his gaze, her palm still pressed against his chest. “Don't do that. Not now.”

Luka went still. “Do what?”

“Make me doubt what I just felt.”

Luka's thumb brushed slowly beneath her ear.

That was distracting.

Extremely distracting.

Cora should have stepped away.

The question she'd been chasing all day returned, but it didn't feel quite the same anymore.

Hours ago, she'd wanted an answer because Luka was a mystery she couldn't solve. Now she was standing in his arms, his hand still warm at the back of her neck, her lips still tingling from his, and his heart beating beneath her palm in perfect rhythm with her own.

Whatever Luka was, she'd just let herself want him anyway.

Maybe that was why she needed the truth now more than ever.

Cora kept her hand against his chest and lifted her eyes to his.

“What are you?”

Luka went completely still.

Cora's hand remained against his chest, feeling that impossible rhythm beneath her palm.

Her rhythm.

His eyes searched hers.

“You know.”

“No.”

“Yes you do. You've known since the first night in the water.”

“I know what I saw.” Her voice was quieter now. “I know what I've read. I know what people on this island whisper when they think I can't understand them.”

Luka said nothing.

“I want you to say it, Luka.”

For several seconds, the only sound in the room was the music and the distant rush of the Adriatic beyond the open doors.

Then Luka's hand tightened slightly at her waist.

“Siren.”

The word settled between them.

Not folklore.

Not hallucination.

Not a hypothesis.

An answer.

Luka Varek looked down at her, his heart still beating beneath her palm in perfect time with her own.

“I am a siren.”