“No.”
She waited, but apparently that was all he had to say on that topic. “Well, you got a name, or should I just call you M
ister Shark?”
He looked away again. “Master.”
“What?”
“Master Shark. Not Mister.”
She snorted. “If you think I’m calling you that, you got another think coming.”
He said nothing. His shoulders stiffened in a tense, straight line.
“Wait.” Martha stared at the back of his head. “Seriously? You aren’t kidding? You’re what, the king of the sharks or something?”
“Not king. Not anymore. Just the Master Shark.”
Not anymore? Implying that he had been at some point? Martha’s mind reeled.
“If you didn’t know…” He still wasn’t looking at her, eyes fixed on the horizon. “Why did you run from me?”
Her wedding ring glinted up at her in accusation.
Martha snatched her hands away from his back. She rubbed her greasy palms down her own thighs, wishing she could scrub away the memory of touching him along with the residue of the sunscreen.
She cleared her throat. “There you go. All done.”
His massive muscles shifted under his pale, gleaming skin as he turned to face her. She was trapped again by the sheer power behind his iron-gray eyes.
“Why?” he repeated.
He’d been honest with her, even though he’d thought that it would scare her off. She owed him the truth in return.
She held up her left hand, showing him her ring. “I’m already mated.”
“No.” His voice was flat, utterly certain. “You are not.”
“Well, I was.” His arrogance raised her hackles. “Thirty years we were together. He was loyal to me, and I’m still loyal to him, and that’s all there is to it.”
He held her glare for a long moment. Then he looked down, absently running a hand over his short, bristling hair. It was the first time she’d ever seen him fidget, or move with less than total confidence. It made him more real, somehow. Her hands ached to reach out to him again.
“Do you need someone killed?” he said abruptly.
Her mouth hung ajar. “Excuse me?”
“I cannot fight the dead. Give me a living foe, a way I can serve you. Is there some insult to your honor that demands vengeance?”
Her inner coyote’s ears pricked up. Tell him about the shih tzu that keeps peeing in our yard.
Martha pinched the bridge of her nose. “Are you out of your fool mind?” she said, to both of them.
“I would fill the sea with blood for you, if you asked.” Though his harsh, toneless voice never changed, one corner of his mouth twitched up a fraction, as if he was fully aware of how ridiculous his words were. “But I suspect that you will not.”
“You got that right,” Martha said firmly. “I don’t know what it’s like where you come from, but up here on land, we don’t go around murdering our way into people’s hearts. If you like a lady, you offer her flowers, not a bloodbath.”
He glanced at the manicured jungle edging the beach, eyes narrowing.