Meant to Be Immortal (Argeneau #32) - Lynsay Sands Page 0,74

dreams with her would give him more of an idea of how her mind was working than waking her up and asking questions to judge whether she was suffering confusion or any of the other symptoms connected to such an injury.

Assured she was breathing fine and seemed well, Mac set the glass of water on the bedside table and then retreated to the salon. The cot was still there, but it had been stripped and closed. Rather than go to the trouble of setting it up and making it, he lay down on the couch. It was plush and overstuffed and a good size as couches went, but he was still too long for it. Mac was used to that, though, and simply rested his head on one arm of the couch and his ankles on the other, and closed his eyes.

CJ stroked through the silky water, enjoying the feel of it rushing over her body as she swam straight out from the cliff that her cottage sat on. She swam for several minutes before stopping and rolling over in the water. Floating on her back now, she stared up into the fiercely bright sun for a moment before closing her eyes against it and simply enjoying the feel of its heat kissing her skin where it wasn’t submerged under the water.

CJ had always enjoyed the water. As a kid she’d spent more time in the lake than out of it when they were on the island. Her father used to say that it was because she was really a mermaid they’d found as a baby and taken in. He’d then caution her not to stay in the water too long or her legs would merge into a tail fin and she’d have to live in the water forever.

CJ smiled at the memory. She’d always laughed at that claim, never realizing how close to the truth it was. Oh, she wasn’t a mermaid, but the man she’d always thought was her father had found her when she was young and he and his wife had taken her in, raising her as their own. They had been wonderful parents, and she had enjoyed a happy and loving childhood because of them.

Sighing, CJ rolled over in the water again and struck out for shore. It didn’t take her long to reach shallow water. The moment her fingers brushed over the sandy bottom as she stroked, CJ stopped swimming and stood up in the water to wade out. She stopped, though, after just a couple of steps when she spotted the man standing on the small patch of beach in the shade cast by the U-shaped cliff.

CJ stared at Mac Argeneau blankly for a moment, a little confused as to what he was doing there. He was wearing a black T-shirt and the blue jeans she’d picked out for him, the same clothes he’d been wearing when she’d seen him last . . . In Sandford where she was investigating Officer Jefferson, she recalled, and that’s when CJ realized she was dreaming. Because she had no recollection of getting from Sandford to her cottage on Pelee Island.

This was a dream, and one she had a lot. Well, part of it was one she had a lot. CJ often found herself dreaming of her cottage and the peace and relaxation she found there. It was the place she’d been most happy in her life, so where she went in her sleep. But she’d rarely dreamed of anyone else being there with her. Mac’s appearing here now was a new experience and a bit of a surprise, but not an unpleasant one, she decided. She might not be able to have him in real life, but this was a dream. Here she was safe and so was he. Here she could even experience and enjoy what she couldn’t in reality. If she wanted, which wasn’t something she was too sure about. Still, she was in control here in her dream.

Relaxing at the thought, CJ waded out of the water toward the large beach towel she’d left warming on a rock in the sun. Her path took her away from Mac, but she could feel him watching her as she moved, his gaze sliding down her body in the one-piece black bathing suit she wore, and then back up again with an appreciation that was almost a hum in the air. It made her hyperaware of her body, of the feel of the water running in