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to protect his privacy. She nodded and took the towel off her head, shaking her hair loose. It would dry better unwrapped. Running her hands through its length to untangle it, she explained to her boss that she didn’t need a ride, watching as Mark Forsythe walked outside with long, even strides to hang her wet towel over the back of a chair. In the sun, the white in his hair was so bright, she could barely look at it without squinting, but she managed somehow. His tanned skin rippled over hard, sinuous muscles. She easily could have spent the next sixty-nine years watching the man move, she thought, but then what Jim was saying began to get through to her bemused brain.
    Only it made no sense at all.
    “Do it all over again?” she said with a gasp when she realized what he was asking of her. “Not on your life! That was a one-time-only shot, Jim. I don’t care what it cost to hire the photographers! No! I’m not going down there again! Then let Bristol use the film of himself playing the salmon, and they can splice in film of me in the tank...I don’t care what they’re willing to pay. Once was enough...No, I didn’t like it,” she snapped. “In fact, I hated it. I was scared and cold, and it wasn’t the piece of cake you and Robin assured me it would be...Of course Robin wasn’t cold! He was wearing a full wetsuit! It was also a whole lot different from working in the tank. Buddy-breathing is for the birds.”
    There was a pause, and as Mark came back into the room, he could hear the sounds but not the words of a male voice arguing. “Well, then, it’s for the fish,” said Jillian. “Or the porpoises or whatever, or strictly for emergencies. It is not for me. Not again. Sorry, but if you want publicity photographs for any more political hopefuls, you find yourself another mermaid.”
    After another pause she said, “Yes, I’m just as committed to cleaning up the oceans as I ever was, and I believe that if he’s elected, Ken Bristol would stand a chance of making some progress, but there has to be another way I can do my bit. I...”
    She listened for a moment or two, and Mark noticed how pale she was again. He tucked the robe around her more tightly, and she smiled at him in thanks as she said softly but firmly, “I said no, Jim. And I meant it. Not again, not for any amount of money.”
    Mark heard her make a soft, dismayed sound and saw her stiffen, saw her eyes widen and her face go even whiter. He kept his hands on her waist, aware of the rubber suit between her skin and his but also very much aware of her female shape.
    “You both told me it was an extra! That it had nothing to do with my regular job. And if you try to pull anything, changing my job description in the middle of the season, let me tell you, you won’t get away with it. I’m the mermaid in the club, and that’s that. Any extracurricular mermaiding you want done from here on out, you hire yourself another mermaid!” She hung up, and staring wide-eyed and frightened into Mark’s face, she wrapped her arms around herself tightly.
    “Oh, brother,” she said. “Can I do that?” Without waiting for him to reply, she went on. “But I did, didn’t I? I as good as told my boss to get lost.”
    He stood and went to an intercom switch near the door. “Edward, could I have coffee for two in my den, please?” He thumbed the switch closed and came to sit opposite Jillian, drawing his chair up so close that his knees almost touched her thigh.
    She could smell the scent of his soap, or aftershave, or shampoo, or maybe it was just him. It smelled good and male and comforting, and his voice when he spoke was deep and masculine and soothing. Well, maybe not soothing, since it made her heart beat fast, but it was...oh, she didn’t know. She certainly did enjoy the sound of it. It held a rumble so deep, she could almost feel it. It made her want to lay her palm on his chest to see if she could feel the vibrations.
    “Why don’t you get