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He’d loaded her plate with her preferred fruits, vegetables, and grains.
“It’s not flesh. It’s fish,” he said, swallowing. “It’s different.”
“Different to what? I swim with fish. I’m from the ocean. Would you eat me?”
“You’ve no idea.”
Inexplicably, Jarin chuckled to himself, looking into the fire.
After the meal, handed her a green coconut, into which he poured a measure from a rum flagon.
“Here,” he said. “Try this.”
She sipped the drink, amazed at its burning nature. Why would anyone drink such a thing? But within minutes, she understood. Her limbs grew pleasantly relaxed and when she looked around, everything had a new soft, warm glow.
“How is it?” asked Jarin.
“Good.” She reached for the coconut. “I want more.”
“Go slow, eh? I don’t know what rum does to a siren’s system.”
She shrugged and took another sip.
A pirate brought out a fiddle and started playing while others sang a bawdy sailor’s tune.
Riella sat back, watching them. She contemplated how everything about her life on land was different. Where the ocean had been cool and dark and serene and feminine, the land was bright and hot and loud and masculine. And yet, it was oddly compelling. She had to admit that she wasn’t having an awful time, Polinth and Artus and Seraphine notwithstanding.
“What do sirens do for fun?” asked Jarin as they lounged by the fire, the pirates becoming increasingly rowdy and inebriated.
“Fun,” repeated Riella, thinking. “Well, we swim, of course. We explore, we learn. We sing. And when we get the chance, we teach lessons to humans.” She smiled.
“What do you miss the most?”
She shifted on the spot, the sand chafing the backs of her legs. “Feeling perfectly clean all the time. Underwater, you never get dirty.” Riella adjusted the torn remains of her dress around her thighs. “I have sand everywhere.”
“Because you’ve only been bathing in the ocean.” He stood, motioning for her to follow. “You need a freshwater shower. I’ll take you there.”
“Where’s there?”
“Just come on.”
He walked through the music-filled clearing, the firelight making the tattoos on his back dance in time to the flames. She followed him, not wanting to be left with the other pirates.
The jungle seemed impenetrable in the velvety night, lit only by the moon, but Jarin knew the path well. They walked until the din at the bonfire subsided, replaced by the chattering of insects in the trees. Branches hung across the path and Jarin moved them aside for her.
When a ceaseless thundering became audible, the siren understood. He was taking her to a waterfall. Sure enough, he led her over expansive black rocks to an echoing cavern.
A waterfall flew over the cliff, hammering the pool of dark water below. The walls of the cavern surrounded the pool, arching to a high natural roof. Scant moonlight bounced off the water, making patterns on the stone.
Jarin hopped over the rocks around the pool’s edge. Without a backward glance at Riella, he tore off his trousers—the only clothes he wore—and tossed them on the dry rocks. In the low light, his muscular body almost blended into the water-beaten rock around him.
She couldn’t help noticing his sculpted buttocks and substantial thighs. The front of him was not visible to her, which somehow gave her a shot of both relief and disappointment. He stepped into a rock pool beneath the waterfall up to his knees, the crashing white water obscuring his form.
“Hurry up!” he shouted over the roar of the waterfall. “It feels fantastic.”
She longed to cool and clean herself, as the sand and sunburn irritated her skin, despite the coconut oil. But she was nervous to be naked with him. Mostly because a big part of her wanted to be naked with him. She didn’t know how to act in such a situation, which was ridiculous, given she never used to wear clothing at all.
The rum was definitely emboldening her, though.
