The Selkie (2 page)

Getting sexed up on your knees at work will do that.

“
You,
”
she said to the receptionist.
“
I baked you muffins.
”

“
Maggie,
”
Matthew spluttered, as remorse and embarrassment grappled for dominance in his eyes.
“
Please. I didn’t mean to hurt you.
”

“
One question.
”

He nodded, pale in his mortification.

“
How long?
”

“
Just a little while,
”
he was quick to reply.
“
I swear.
”

For some reason, she felt compelled to look to Caitlyn for reassurance. The woman nodded, concurring with Matthew. Of course, that didn’t mean anything. He could have been cheating with any number of other women. God only knew he hadn’t been having sex with her, his own fiancée!

And now this all just confirmed suspicions she’d never dreamed of confronting. Cloying sensations that had been haunting the periphery of her consciousness for some time, teasing her, even though she’d never had the guts to listen to her inner voices. The ones that had been suggesting maybe Matthew Drake wasn’t exactly her soul mate.

Of course, she hadn’t bothered to listened to those instincts. On paper, Matthew had always looked wonderful. Pretty freaking terrific, actually.

Maybe there was something to be said for instinct.

She removed her engagement ring and tossed it to the ground before his feet.
“
Right. Well. I guess the only thing left to say, Matthew,
”
she continued in her best PowerPoint-presentation voice,
“
is I hope you burn in hell. And that your dick shrivels and falls off.
”

Or that a hungry Rottweiler bites it off. Or that you get flesh-eating disease and it crumbles away in moldy, green pieces.

As Maggie contemplated all the imaginative ways Matthew’s traitorous penis could achieve a painful demise, she turned and left. Realizing that her personal world was now just as much in the shitter as her professional world.

* * * *

That was the first night Maggie dreamed of the creature.

A large beast with knowing, brown eyes. Eyes that glimpsed her shame and didn’t judge. Eyes that witnessed her sorrow and sought to comfort. Eyes that somehow understood everything.

He was a dark presence that infiltrated a nightmare brought on by stress and betrayal, a murky shape that hid in the background of her consciousness, yet which felt startlingly real to her. A spirit that was strangely connected to her, although she couldn’t imagine why.

It should have been frightening to her, but it wasn’t. If anything, the sight of the animal made her feel better, calmed her and soothed her.

What she didn’t understand, though, was why it also aroused her.

Perhaps it was because as the dream progressed, the creature changed, taking on the sensual aspect of a man with long, brown hair. An untamed man. One Maggie had never seen anywhere before. A man whose dark eyes seemed to see her in return with startling clarity and raw, reciprocated need.

As the images in the dream swept through her head, Maggie focused on his seductive eyes. And touched herself.

* * * *

From his home, a roiling ocean away, Calan Kirk dreamed of her. The frazzled Canadian redhead who’d lost her job and her lover in one day. The one with the astonishing blue eyes and a body whose curves could inspire love songs. He was immediately drawn to her, though he didn’t understand why.

His keen sense of otherworldly sight recognized her pain and wanted to fight for her. His sense of chivalry made him want to obliterate the man who’d hurt her. And stronger than anything, a new desire invaded his soul, making him lust for her with a force he could not fathom.

In his own dream, as a bizarre nocturnal communication began between them, Calan watched Maggie’s fingers slide over her moist sex. Saw the delectable dew on the red curls between her legs. She was thinking of him, although she didn’t understand it yet. He heard her whimpers, and they sounded like poignant music to him. He could almost smell her, even from his great distance. That sense, keen as it was, gave way to his sense of taste. Calan swallowed and his saliva was flavored with her sweetness, making him wish he had her under him so he could drink her in properly.

What was he thinking? She was a human. Not his kind and not to be trusted. He’d learned that after what happened to Kyla.

Oh well. It’s just a dream. Not as if you’ll ever meet the lass.

His conscience appeased, he reached for his member. He couldn’t stop himself, couldn’t help groaning as he reached a delirious climax, his dark eyes trained on the tantalizing image of her.

Human or not, real or dreamy wraith, no woman had ever fired up his body with as great a heat or sent such shudders through him. And as her image faded away, he realized no woman had ever left him feeling such an aching sense of loss.

Chapter 1

One night, three months later, Maggie lay in bed, thrashing as she relived the same dream. Only this one was different.

Yes, it still featured the beast with the wildly erotic eyes that managed to undress her even in her sleep. Yes, she could still see its face, the visage of a great seal. But more often than not, he appeared to her as a man. A large man of sinful proportions with long, brown hair that flowed down his muscled back. He had a flirty grin and a body that seemed to glimmer with a soft sheen, as if he were bathed in moonlight.

He always seemed to know just what she needed, offering her friendly companionship when she was beating herself up over what happened at work. Telling her that the idiots at city hall didn’t deserve her. And during those dark, haunted moments when she felt like a total failure as a woman, he came to her as her lover. Whispering sweet words of temptation. Touching her body as no one ever had.

But this time, her Scottish grandmother was there, accompanying him. The great seal standing at her side.

Aw, man, what’s my grandmother doing in my sex dream?

Dream Maggie turned to the old woman.
“
Gran! You shouldn’t be here.
”

The large animal chuckled in its deep human voice, and Maggie felt a stirring in her sex. A low, delicious hum of sexual connectivity. The same potent force that drew her in each time she dreamed of him. Pure magnetism.

“
Maggie, lass,
”
her grandmother’s voice broke through in stiff remonstrance,
“
listen to me. There’ll be enough time for shenanigans later.
”

Good old Nora MacLean. She always managed to bring Maggie back to Earth with her no-nonsense attitudes. She’d been the one to stir Maggie from the depths of her despair at being fired and at being betrayed by Matthew. Her clipped pep talks, laced with the odd Orkney swear word, never failed to make her feel better. But she didn’t really want Gran to see this. Whatever this weird relationship with the seal-man was.

As if sensing that her Gran needed to speak, the seal glided into the background of the dream. Maggie watched it move. For a moment, it seemed to morph into the image of the gorgeous man. But then it became a seal again.

“
Maggie,
”
Nora intoned, her Orcadian accent thick and comforting.
“
Come to Orkney.
”

“
I’ll be there soon, Gran. Just a few more weeks until the yearly pilgrimage.
”
And then she smiled upon hearing the amused huff in her grandmother’s voice.

She couldn’t wait to see her grandmother and the Scottish isle of Orkney again. After finishing another temp job that only went nowhere, after still feeling like such a shmuck for having faith in men who deserved no such faith, Maggie was ready for a good visit and some Nora-isms.

God, first Bobby, then Matthew. I’m such a tool.

Gran would set her straight. She just hoped Gran was up for the visit. The old lady hadn’t felt well for a while. In fact, her most recent phone calls had only added to Maggie’s stress. Her gran had always had a sharp mind, but recently Nora had begun to ramble, sounding confused.

The dream grew darker then, the images more murky and disjointed. And even though she was tucked in her bed in her cramped Toronto apartment, Maggie could suddenly smell the sea.

Orkney, her grandmother’s ancestral home, was calling to her.

“
You must come now, lass,
”
Nora implored.

Even in the dream, Maggie thought she heard a catch in her Gran’s voice. A hitch in her breathing. She ran toward her, and in her mind, she was racing through the dunes on a lonely Scottish beach.

“
What’s wrong, Gran?
”

As she waited for the response, Maggie turned to the seal creature. Why was it that his huge, brown eyes seemed to see right into her soul?

She was due to visit Nora at the end of summer, but something now told her it might not be soon enough. As an ominous feeling took root in the pit of her stomach, she stared at the animal. He stared back at her, his dark eyes deep and serene, and she felt a strange empathy radiating out from him.

Nora caressed Maggie’s auburn curls.
“
You mustn’t be sad for me. I’m an old woman, and happy to go. I’ll finally get to see your granddad after all these years, as well as your ma and da.
”

Dream Maggie gasped at the mention of her dead parents. As if on cue, the large seal glided over to her and nudged her with his cold nose. She jumped but couldn’t resist reaching out a hand to pat his silky head. The creature pushed against her hand as if soaking up the momentary affection.

Confused, she turned back to Gran.
“
I don’t understand.
”

Nora stepped in front of the seal and grasped her by the shoulders.
“
I wish I had time to explain. You must come to Orkney. Do a dying woman a final favor. Claim your inheritance. Everything I have is yours. Come, lass. Our little island is just what you need.
”

Maggie felt pain slice through her as viciously as a knife.
“
Dying? Gran, no. I know you haven’t felt well, but…
”

“
Come,
”
said Nora with a sad smile.
“
I have a friend who will help you. Calan Kirk. You need only call for him and he’ll come to you in Orkney. He’s the answer to your prayers, and my prayers for you. Come, Maggie.
”

The seal made a noise of encouragement at the same time Nora began to fade away. She drifted into the gray background of the dream and the animal followed, morphing once again into the image of the sculpted, naked man.

“
No,
”
Maggie cried into her pillow.
“
Don’t go!
”

With her cry, she awakened. And knew in that moment that Gran was dead.

Even as the grief began to wash over her in overwhelming waves, Maggie couldn’t help noticing the state of her pillowcase. It was wet, but not with her tears. It smelled strangely of seawater.

* * * *

A few days later, Maggie stood in Nora’s parlor. She felt dazed and unable to focus.
“
I still can’t believe she left everything to me.
”

“
She loved you, dear,
”
said Phyllis Brodie, her grandmother’s elderly friend, smiling through her false teeth.

“
More than anyone.
”
The sentiment was echoed by her other friend, blue-haired Liz Campbell. The two ladies had been chums with Nora MacLean for years. They all lived in close proximity to Kirkwall, and had endeavored to take Maggie under their wings since she’d arrived on Orkney’s mainland island.

The jet lag hadn’t yet hit Maggie, but she knew it would. The flight from Toronto had felt longer than usual, exhausting her, leaving her with heavy eyes and a bad case of bed head. She knew she’d be a complete mess once the denial disappeared, and took a strange comfort in being so numb, if only for what would be a short time.

“
Perhaps I’ll brew a nice cuppa,
”
suggested Liz, her wrinkly hand touching Maggie’s shoulder.

“
I’m fine, thank you,
”
she replied. Maggie was grateful, but wanted nothing more than to be alone with her memories.

She’d almost expected to be met at the Kirkwall Airport by Calan Kirk, the man Gran had mentioned in the dream, but there had been no sign of him. Of course, it had been just a dream, but it had felt more like a prophecy. Especially when a kind Orcadian constable had phoned her afterward with the official news of her Gran’s demise. Even still, Maggie hadn’t spared too many thoughts about the mysterious Calan Kirk. He was probably imaginary, or some old crony of Gran’s. And Maggie already had her hands full with Liz and Phyllis. She glanced at the two venerable ladies in front of her.

As sweet as they were, they wouldn’t stop picking at her.

Liz touched Maggie’s bob.
“
Such lovely red curls! Just like when Nora was a lass.
”

Phyllis concurred.
“
And bonnie blue eyes. But you look very tired, Maggie, dear.
”

“
I am a little tired.
”

“
My peach,
”
said Phyllis, the more assertive of the two pensioners,
“
lie down. I’ll see to the house for you. It could use a little dusting and such. Your granny was always such a packrat. I believe they call them ‘hoarders’ nowadays, although it doesn’t sound any more glamorous if you ask me.
”
She began to usher Maggie toward the stairs.

“
No, really, please.
”
Maggie implored her with eyes, which were now burning.
“
You’ve been wonderful, and you were such friends to Gran. But, if it’s okay, I’d like to be alone.
”

Phyllis, lips set tight and holding her ground, eyed the younger woman skeptically. Liz shooed her friend toward the door, waving her hands in a sweeping motion.
“
Leave the poor, wee thing, Phyllis. She’s suffered enough.
”

Maggie blushed. They knew. Nora would have told Liz and Phyllis everything, about Matthew and her job, but she was too exhausted to be mortified.

“
Of course.
”
Phyllis relented, moving reluctantly toward the door.
“
But if you need any help sorting through Nora’s things, you let me know. Poor Nora. She was a lovely woman, but didn’t possess a single organizational bone in her body.
”
The old lady scanned the dusty living room one more time, and then shook her head.

“
Oh, Phyllis,
”
Liz chided.
“
Nora was hardly in any state to clean house. The blessed woman could barely find her spectacles on her head most days.
”
She offered a sad smile to Maggie.
“
She wasn’t well at the end, love, wasn’t herself. So confused. She’d just sit and stare and spout old bits of folklore. Such a shame.
”

The thought of her gran staring into space recounting Orkney myths was about as heartbreaking as anything. She didn’t want to hear any more.

“
We’ll leave you be,
”
Liz murmured, squeezing Maggie’s biceps.