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“Memorabilia,” Sawyer suggested. “A keepsake. Something engraved.”

“I’m going to write this down.” Riley rose to grab her tablet from the lounge. “Mirror, glass, book . . .”

“You make the words so fast.” Annika angled over to watch them come on screen. “Can you teach me? I like to learn.”

“Sure.” But Riley said it absently as she finally looked at Doyle. “Why did you choose the bedroom upstairs?”

“It had a bed.”

“Stop the smart-ass. Why that particular room?”

“And no particular reason except . . .”

“Except what?”

“It faced the sea. My room as a boy here did the same.”

“Okay. That could matter. Talk among yourselves. I want to play with this.” Riley took her tablet back to the lounge.

Doyle rose, followed her over. “You pissed about something?”

“No. Clearly, I’m working something out, whether or not you support the theory.”

“You’re pissed because I don’t buy in?”

“No.” She looked up now, held a level gaze. “Theories are meant to be debated and challenged. It’s why they’re theories. I’m a scientist. I worship ideas, even when they’re contrary to mine.”

“Then what’s the attitude?”

“I’m working something out,” she repeated. “This, and something personal. If I were pissed, I’d say so.”

“Okay.” He went back to the table, sat with the others.

Riley went back to ignoring him. It seemed the best course while holding an internal debate on whether or not to tell him she was in love with him. And if she told him, when. And if and when, how.

A lot of questions, and no clear answer.

She had a lot to work out, so let those questions circle in her mind while she added items to the hunt list, and let the conversation across the room wash over her.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

At the table Annika admired her ring, wiggled her fingers to make it sparkle. She thought she would most like to marry Sawyer on the island where he’d taken her—where one of her people had given his ancestor the compass. Where he’d told her he loved her the first time.

Everyone could come, the land people who were family, the merpeople. She hoped, so much, she could marry Sawyer while she still had the legs. Then she could wear a beautiful dress, and dance with him.

She caught Sasha smiling at her while the men talked of battle plans and hard things.

“I like to look at it, and to feel how it feels on my finger. Do you with yours?”

“All the time.”

“You will come to the wedding, and stand for me, you and Riley, the way we will for you?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” Sasha laughed.

“I think, would like so much, if we could marry on the island. Our island.”

Sawyer slid an arm around her. “I was thinking the same.”


Tags: Nora Roberts The Guardians Trilogy Fantasy