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Merletta showed no hesitation as she stepped forward, allowing him to guide her arms through the sleeves and slip the fabric over her head. When he pulled it down and her face emerged, she was laughing. Her utter lack of self-consciousness helped Heath to banish the rush of heat that overcame him. However unusual it felt to him to help her dress, Merletta clearly didn’t find the activity particularly intimate.

“This is absurd,” Merletta laughed, as Heath knelt in the snow to tug the gown down around her ankles.

“Why?” He reached into the saddlebags again, coming out with boots.

“There’s just…so much of it!” Merletta declared.

But in spite of her words, when Heath turned around, he saw that Merletta was twisting her hips back and forth, watching with satisfaction as the skirts swished one way and then the other.

“It’s kind of fun,” she acknowledged, when she looked up and saw him grinning at her.

“I can’t get mine over my head,” August said, his voice as unruffled and dignified as ever.

Heath turned to see the broad-shouldered man trying to tug one of Laura’s gowns over his close-cropped hair.

“Um, actually…” Heath paused for a moment to master the laugher threatening to burst from him. “Actually, they’re designed for ladies. Men don’t really wear…these.”

“Oh.” August pulled the garment off, frowning at Heath’s own attire. “That is something of a relief.”

Heath allowed himself a small laugh. “I’m afraid I didn’t bring extra men’s clothes for you,” he said apologetically.

“I’ll manage,” said August, although Heath noticed he was eyeing the horse with misgiving.

“My home is some distance along the coast,” Heath told him. “Could you swim alongside the shoreline? I could meet you down at the water’s edge with something more suitable.” He sized the guard up with his eyes. Percival’s clothes would probably fit.

The plan was quickly agreed upon, and with some fairly clumsy assistance from August, Heath managed to get himself and Merletta mounted on his mare at the top of the slope. They watched as August moved back to the water, disappearing without a splash below the waves.

“I hope it’s all right for him to come as well,” Merletta said, looking back over her shoulder at Heath. “He was quite insistent.”

“Of course it is,” Heath assured her easily.

She smiled at him, settling back against him contentedly. Satisfaction roared through Heath as he urged his horse to a walk, relishing the feel of her nestled between his arms, heading toward his family home with complete trust in his ability to keep her safe.

As they rode, she told him the story of her flight, a tale which sobered him quickly.

“That’s diabolical,” he said quietly, in reference to the targeting of Tish. “It shows what kind of people you’re dealing with.”

Merletta nodded gravely. “I don’t know what we’re going to do, Heath,” she said. “I really don’t.”

Heath remained silent. For the moment, he had no answers for her. It was enough that she was alive, and safe from the Center, and here with him. More than enough.

Chapter Twenty-Five

Heath rode much more slowly on the way back to the manor, both for Merletta’s sake and the horse’s. Merletta seemed to enjoy the novelty of riding a horse, but Heath could tell she was sore and weary by the time the manor came into sight. He left her with the mare in a small grove of trees, slipping in through a side door and returning with an armful of clothing for August. He’d been fortunate enough not to run into any of his family.

They climbed down the cliff path together, meeting August at the water’s edge. The older merman seemed much happier with the new selection of clothes, and by the time he was dressed, Heath reflected with satisfaction that both he and Merletta really did look human. Who would suspect anything else?

“What will your family think when we arrive, uninvited?” August asked bluntly.

“Let me worry about what they’ll think,” Heath said. “They won’t turn you away or anything, don’t be alarmed.”

August’s brow was creased as he looked at Merletta. “I was thinking I should identify myself as Merletta’s father.”

Merletta looked at him, clearly surprised. But Heath shook his head.

“That won’t work. I should perhaps warn you that my father was born with a magic that can detect deception. Any lies will make him instantly suspicious of you. I think you’d better leave the explanations to me.”

August’s frown deepened, but he said no more. The three of them made their way up to the manor on foot, Heath leading his horse.


Tags: Deborah Grace White The Vazula Chronicles Fantasy