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Authors: S. K. Munt

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BOOK: Heads or Tails
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Tristan was amazed. ‘Did anyone else see it happen?’

Ivyanne shrugged. ‘No one’s mentioned it. There was just so much going on! I don’t think
Sherri
even knew how I managed to get it from her. She looked at me, all shocked, and then Pintang knocked her over.’

‘You should have said something,’ Tristan said quietly. ‘If you have a power, Ivyanne, we need to know about it and exercise it.’

Ivyanne crossed her arms across her chest. ‘
Said
something?
When
? And to
who
? My parents died two minutes later Tristan, then there was the memorial and all the panic, the coronation, breaking off the engagement, the move... I just chalked it up as a fluke and forgot about it until this morning.’

Tristan thought it over. ‘So all three times it’s involved
me
in some way?’

Ivyanne averted her eyes and tucked a curl behind her ear again. A periwinkle scale on the back of her hand winked knowingly at him in the filtered sunlight.

‘I guess you could...yeah. Sort of.’

Tristan stepped closer to her, his heart full of hope. ‘So what you’re saying is that whenever you want something badly enough... you just
pull
it to you sub-consciously? And Link hasn’t brought that out in you yet?’

Ivyanne backed up, holding up her hand. ‘Tristan-
don’t
, okay? It’s not fair of you to keep sneaking up on me like this morning and now.’

‘Sneaking
up
on you?’ Tristan repeated, freezing at the accusation. ‘Ivyanne-
you
grabbed
me
. How is that
my
fault?’

‘I don’t know!’ Ivyanne said crossly. ‘It just
is
. I was just starting to get a grip on my hormones and then here you come, messing with my head
again
.’

‘You say that like you don’t love it!’

‘I
don’t
!’ Ivyanne snapped. She wrestled free. ‘Yes you’re sexy as hell Tristan! A god! Sometimes I want to sink my teeth into you so much I’m afraid I’d do damage! BUT I won’t be
lusted
into making a dumb decision!’

Tristan’s mouth fell open. ‘Are you implying that the
only
reason you’d marry me is because I’m better at
turning you on
?’

‘I never said you were
better
at it-just more
persistent
!’ Ivyanne said cuttingly, then arched an eyebrow. ‘And why don’t you stop trying to turn me on so we can both find out, huh? Admit it-you know your sexuality is a secret weapon of sorts so you rub it in my face every chance you get!’

Tristan wanted to punch something. If she knew how hurtful her words were, she didn’t show it with the slightest flash of remorse in her gleaming green gaze. To his horror, he realized that a lump was forming at the base of his throat. Never had a string of off-hand compliments made him feel so worthless.

‘So that’s why you’d choose me, huh?’ He demanded, angrier than he’d ever been with her. ‘You told me how much you missed me when I was gone, that it ripped your heart out! Did you sink into a catatonia just because you weren’t going to get to
ride
me one last time?’ He glared at her, wounded. ‘Because I sincerely hope not!’

Ivyanne blinked. Tears had begun to pool along her thick lower lashes and now one threatened to spill over. ‘Of course not! But at least I can make sense of how I feel for him-I can see the
depth
to it!’ She shook her head. ‘I can’t get a handle on how I feel for
you
because every time I look at you...you’ve got your feathers out!’

Tristan’s arm shot out of it’s own accord, his palm cupping her lower back, yanking her up against him. Their lips were inches apart. ‘You want depth? I can bury myself deeper inside you than anybody. Keep pushing me and I’ll do exactly that!’

‘Against my will?’

He traced the tip of his teeth with his tongue. ‘The flesh is willing-it’s the spirit that’s weak.’

‘You are such an ass sometimes!’ She complained.

‘And you’re being a sullen brat! I know why-and we both know how to fix it! So why shouldn’t we? Maybe once your mind is clear, you’ll be able to think straight again and see me.
Really
see me, like you did last time. And I
know
you did. We connected dammit!’

Ivyanne cocked her head, seemingly unmoved. ‘Oh no...you’re not trying to manipulate me at
all
...’ Sarcasm shattered the sexual tension. ‘Is this how you’d rule, Loveridge? You gonna shag everyone who doesn’t have faith in you because it’s too hard to prove yourself otherwise?’

Tristan released her swiftly, too mad to concede the fact that she had a point. But it was a moot point- her sexuality was what was reducing the kingdom to madness-the rest of them were just reacting, himself included! He turned to her desk and picked up the letter opener he’d spied minutes before, thrusting it into her hand. ‘Here! Use it!’

Ivyanne gaped at him, all traces of smug superiority gone. ‘What?’

He leaned closer to her. ‘If you can’t see past my face, then cut it! Cut it to ribbons! Take the distraction out of the equation and just see if I can’t make you love me still!’

‘Don’t be ridiculous!’ Ivyanne said, slamming the opener down on the desk.

‘I’m not! If you think I have a preternatural advantage then rob me of it!’ He slid the opener back across the table to her. ‘But while you’re at it-gouge him out of your
memory
too, okay? Because that’s
his
hold over you!’

Ivyanne’s hand shot out and swept the letter opener off the desktop and into his legs. It bounced off his black jeans and landed on the floor below with a rattle.

‘I’m not going to dignify that with a comment.’

‘Well we are who we are!’ Tristan snapped. ‘If you can’t see past my body that’s your fault!’ He took her by the hand and gave her a little tug into his space. ‘Don’t I make you laugh? Don’t I accept you more readily for who you are than anyone else does? Didn’t the idea of a world without me in it send you into a downward spiral you
couldn’t
snap out of?’

Ivyanne’s eyes softened.

‘That’s what I thought.’ He stuck his finger inches from her perfect nose. ‘The fact that I knock you out of your socks just by looking at you is the reason
why
you’re going to pick me-not why you
won’t
.’ He stepped away from her. ‘And if you think you’re uncomfortable right now, just wait and see what I do if I think I need to
prove
how badly you want me!’ Tristan turned and stomped towards the door.

‘Where are you going?’ Ivyanne demanded.

‘Sydney! Where I’m actually wanted!’ he snapped. ‘Better give you your precious space so you can stop drowning in your own drool right?’

‘You’re going to leave mad again?’ Ivyanne asked scornfully. ‘Didn’t you learn your lesson last time?’

Tristan glanced at her over your shoulder. ‘Why should I have?
You
certainly didn’t!’ With that Tristan opened the door and stalked out of the room, shaking with rage. Ivyanne loved him, he was certain of that-but what chance did he have to win her heart when she was spending her time convincing herself that Link was the only one who
deserved
it?

He waited until he was in the hallway to let a tear slip down his cheek. He couldn’t believe the love of his life was determined to discount him for being what he’d been created to be-a Siren.

6.

Ivyanne stared at the back of the door to the library for a full minute after Tristan had left, so angry that she was trembling. She closed her eyes as her hands balled into fists, and suddenly she was somewhere else with sun on her back, phone in hand-tears in eyes.

‘Sweetheart, I think Tristan’s plane just crashed off the coast of Molokai!’
Bane’s disembodied voice seemed to scream into her ear.

A sob escaped her then, making Ivyanne aware that she was about to submit to the crying jag she had felt coming on since she’d been forced to see herself through human eyes half an hour beforehand. Damn Tristan-always catching her when she was most off balance and then throwing her off an emotional precipice! She stared up at the purple ceiling and let the tears run across her temples and into her hair, imagining Tristan de-boarding in Sydney with no harm done. She sucked in the deepest, coldest breath she could, then blew it out.

‘It’s not going to happen again,’ she whispered to the ceiling, but she had to hug herself to keep the panic in. ‘No one’s ever been in two damn crashes!’

Amazingly, uttering that statement out loud mollified her, because she knew she was right. Ardhi would never try the same thing twice, and he didn’t know where they were anyway-or when they’d be coming and going. He had no spies left.

A funny thought occurred to her then :
So if I don’t think he’ll ever crash again, does that making actually flying with him less scary? Could it be something I do...if the need arises...the need to be with my…?

Ivyanne cut the thought off cold and let out a soft cry of annoyance. Tristan had taken her by the arm for the same reason he always had-to get her attention. And it was working!

Suddenly, the room felt far too small for all of her thoughts-and the window far too wide to ignore. She took a step towards it, biting her lip. It had security screens, of course, but for fire safety purposes, each was fitted with a lock-a lock she had a spare key to in her desk.

I can’t breathe in here.
She thought, making a move towards the desk once more.
I can’t even get a decent swim...but there are other things that would make me feel better-wicked temptations no one’s around to police me from, for once...

Without giving herself time to second guess herself, Ivyanne picked up her iPhone. She knew the number for the cab company-it was printed on the desk calendar the real estate agent had gifted her with.

As Ivyanne dialed, she opened the drawer with the keys.

*

Lincoln pulled his car to a stop but kept the engine idling so his blue-tooth wouldn’t shut down. He spotted Ivyanne immediately. She’d attempted to stuff her curls into a pale-pink baseball cap and as a result, the cap was listing slightly. Her dark sunglasses didn’t help either-her profile was too lovely to be mistaken, her figure too deliciously curved to be concealed under an ill-fitting men’s shirt.

‘Call off the search and rescue squad and tell Loveridge he can board his damn plane,’ Lincoln said to the dash of his car, eyeing Ivyanne’s legs as they stretched out under the table. She was using one foot to rub the underside of the other. At the small table next to her, another man was not so subtly staring at her bare feet over his wife’s elbow. There was something so sensual about every move Ivyanne made that going unnoticed was an impossible dream.

‘I’ve found her. I’ll have her back within the hour.’

‘You did?!’ Garridan’s response was expelled more than asked. ‘Oh sweet Triton when I get my hands on that girl-’

‘Woman.’ Lincoln reminded him, cutting him off, less intimidated by Tristan’s uncle now that they were separated by a postal code. ‘Maybe if we started treating her like one, she’d stop rebelling like a child.’ With that, Lincoln hung up, wondering if he’d just shot himself in the foot with Garridan Loveridge but realizing that he didn’t care. Ivyanne was his priority-and she was safe. It was ridiculous for any of them to assume she’d do something completely foolish. Out of all of them-
she
was the only one who was supposed to be calling the shots.

Lincoln twisted his key out of the ignition and the car purred to a gentle sleep. He unfolded himself from the car, shut the door behind him and locked it over his shoulder with the tag on his keys.

Ivyanne looked up at the
beep
sound-and he saw every muscle in her body tighten and then release like noodles when she recognised him. She looked both guilty and haughty and absolutely incredible-the pastel tones of her tourist get-up making her tan glow in contrast even though her face had paled.

The coffeehouse was a large barn-like structure set just back from the highway and nestled against a plantation, cane on one side, coffee plants on the other. Palms and other native blooms hugged the blue aluminum siding and dangled from the large overhang of the roof, all swaying slightly in the breeze kicked up by the passing semi-trailers. Several tables had been set up on the exterior of the grounds-some under trees, others along the front of the building-but Ivyanne of course, had opted for the one under a jacaranda in the state of shedding it’s lavender blooms, as removed from the other diners as possible. The table in front of her was empty.

‘New look?’ Lincoln asked in a monotone, stuffing his hands into his pockets as he came to a stop a few feet back from her.

‘I had to pick something up in town.’ Ivyanne responded shortly. ‘Airlie Beach, North Queensland’ was embroidered onto her hat and ‘G’Day from Down Under’ stitched in bold black letters across the pale blue, shapeless shirt. She looked as ridiculous as she did adorable. ‘And I didn’t want to go into the dressier shops in half a bikini and a towel.’ She glanced towards the building’s entrance, sighed and then turned back to him. ‘Look I’ve already ordered okay? Can I at least drink my damn latte before you drag me back?’

‘Sure.’ Lincoln gestured to the chair across from her. ‘Can I sit? Or were you meditating?’

‘If you let me have a coffee, you can skip rope and yodel.’

‘Yodeling isn’t my strength.’

‘Then this probably isn’t going to work between us. Nothing makes me hotter than a good yodel.’

‘Damn. And here I was working out like some
chump
.’ Lincoln smiled as he sat in the chair across from her, relieved to see her own lips twitch tellingly. ‘Though you might thank me when I physically restrain Garridan from putting you over his knee later.’ He paused, then snorted. ‘Is it weird that I just heard a dirty response from Tristan in my head to that?’

Ivyanne’s lip twitched in a restrained smile. ‘Occupational hazard of being in close quarters with Loveridge-dirty sarcasm.’ She leaned back in her chair. ‘So Garridan’s freaking out enough to call you back from wherever you were to come look for me, huh?’

Lincoln shrugged. ‘I was only halfway between here and Airlie when he called.’

One eyebrow peeked over the top of her sunglasses-so new that she’d yet to peel the UV rating sticker off the corner of one lens. ‘And you found me because Garridan installed a tracking device while I was sleeping….?’

Lincoln laughed. ‘No. I had a feeling you would be looking for coffee, and you wouldn’t have snuck out for an instant either.’ He smiled at her, feeling quite pleased with himself. ‘That’s when I remembered the logo,’ he gestured to the giant golden mermaid sign suspended above the door. ‘And I figured: Where else would a renegade caffeine addicted mermaid flee to?’

‘A beach in Brazil sounds mighty tempting right now…’ Ivyanne chuckled. ‘But here I am so well done. I see I’ll have to be watching my back more often.’

‘If you do, you’re going to catch me checking out your ass a lot more.’

Ivyanne shrugged. ‘Can’t blame you. I have quite a nice tush, don’t I?’

Lincoln reeled back, exaggerating his shock, even though it was considerable. ‘Did Ivyanne Court, world’s most modest woman...actually just high-five her own ass?’

The guy from the next table over, a balding man in his mid forties, choked on a mouthful of coffee. His wife started thumping his back, unaware that he wasn’t giving the topic at hand-that of stripping their bathroom tiles-much reflection.

‘Someone ought to. And it’s not like I can let either of you two do it so…’ Ivyanne wiggled her eyebrows. ‘Have I scandalized you? Ruined my perfect little reputation?’

‘No.’ Lincoln said softly, leaning in and resting his hand on her wrist. ‘I was wondering how long it was going to take for you to realize how intoxicatingly hot you are.’

Ivyanne laughed softly then leaned back, folding her arms across her chest once more. ‘Okay so I’m cute but that’s old news…..You left forty five minutes ago. How are you not almost to Bloomsbury by now?’

‘I made a pit-stop. Got some fuel and the paper. Plus, there’s this nursery back near the turn-off I wanted to check out.’ He paused. ‘Mum loved Hibiscus trees and a few at the resort are dying from the lack of rain so...’ He let his voice trail off.

‘My mum loved jasmine and white roses. Anything fragrant and white.’ Ivyanne said softly. ‘At our old place-the one we just sold-jasmine grew in pots on all the verandahs and curled around the balcony’s. When the wind blew, the scent would fill the house. I loved it.’

‘That’s how I feel when I’m standing near you and the wind blows through your hair,’ Lincoln admitted.

Ivyanne pressed her forehead into her palm and stared down at the table top. ‘Lincoln, can we not? Not until I’ve had some caffeine anyway. I’m tempted to strangle the next man who says one more sweet, wonderful thing to me…’

Lincoln studied her, feeling discomfort creep back into his gut. ‘Then...well I was going to ask why you became a fugitive...but now I’m assuming it has something to do with Tristan, huh?’

At that moment, a waitress appeared at their side.

‘One soy latte?’ She asked, posing the question to Lincoln. He motioned to Ivyanne, and the waitress placed it on the table. Ivyanne’s fingers were already reaching for the sugar sachets-also locally produced. The scent of molasses from the mill hung over Proserpine almost constantly in a thick, cloying cloud.

It was a strange little town, flanking the highway near the turn-off to Airlie Beach, but as it was bordered by mountains on both sides, one would never guess that ocean was nearby from where they sat on the side of the rain-starved Bruce Highway.

But Proserpine was growing every year, and it’s architecture and collection of quirky stores and eateries were beginning to appear on Tourism guides. No longer was it a place to stop for fuel on the way to Townsville or The Whitsunday’s-but a place to stop and smell the roses. Or as the case was that day-the molasses and coffee grinds.

‘What about for you?’ The waitress turned back to him and smiled invitingly. A friendly barista smiled turned up four notches to ‘flirt’ mode. ‘Can I get you a cuppa?’

‘A water would be great, thanks.’ Lincoln said, pushing down his craving. She looked vaguely let down by that, no doubt eliminating him as a possible future husband because he didn’t share in her addiction. Lincoln waited until she was out of earshot before turning back to Ivyanne. She was furiously stirring sugar into her coffee and looking irritated.

‘Soy?’ He asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ivyanne shrugged. ‘Someone suggested I try it...apparently if I’m going to drink coffee, there are clean ways to do it…’

‘Someone?’ He repeated.

‘Yes,’ she admitted softly, slowing her stirring pace. ‘Tristan suggested it, okay? But can you blame me for taking his advice? The man knows health, after all.’

Lincoln exhaled slowly, mentally preparing himself for the information he was determined to glean from her. ‘What did he do to piss you off?
Today
, I mean?’

‘Nothing….it’s more what he said…’

‘Which was?’

‘I can’t discuss this with you!’ Ivyanne snapped, crumpling up the used sugar sachets and putting them on her saucer. ‘And you don’t want me to.’

Lincoln felt that heart-sinking sensation again. If she didn’t want to broach the subject, how badly did he not want to hear it? ‘It can’t be worse than where my imagination is already going.’ He pointed out. He reached out and pulled her shades off her eyes, so she couldn’t conceal secrets behind them. ‘Ivyanne for us to make it as a couple, we have to be
friends
too. I already know you and Tristan have that chummy bond-and I know you discuss all of your feelings for me-with
him
.’ He tilted his head to the side. ‘Please...do me the reverse honor, okay? Don’t shut me out where you let him in. I want to be there for you too. And until Ardhi changed me, you let me be that person-even if you couldn’t be completely upfront-I felt like a confidante of sorts.’ He sighed. ‘You can’t take the ring off your finger, and your hand out of mine and your head off my shoulder. I’ll cease to exist without at least one of those links, keeping you close.’

Ivyanne’s gaze softened, the antagonized dark green fading to pale. She took a sip of her coffee, both hands lovingly cupping the glass, silently appraising him over the rim before saying: ‘He inferred that I’m trying to play down my feelings for him.’

Lincoln felt confused. ‘But...you’re doing that for both of us on purpose right now. Holding back, yada yada...’

‘Yeah well, Tristan doesn’t see it as a balanced retreat. He accused me of holding back my true feelings for him.’ She rolled her eyes. ‘Like he’s sunshine itself and I’m carrying around eighty plus sunscreen or something when I should be tanning.’

BOOK: Heads or Tails
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