Page 20 of Save Me (The Wolf Hotel Mermaid Beach #2)

T he sun has sunk into the gulf by the time Sloane and I are sliding on our shoes and climbing the steps at Seraphina’s.

Most everyone has gone inside, leaving only the staff and Connor, hunched over the bar with a pint of beer, in conversation with Jeremy, who laughs as he loads dirty glasses into a dish rack.

“Hey, man.” I drop a hand on his shoulder, both in greeting and as a wordless apology for earlier. “Thanks for the call. We lost track of time.”

“Yeah. No problem.” He peers over his shoulder, first at me, then at Sloane, at her tousled hair that screams just fucked.

We might not be the only ones, given the smear of red lipstick on Connor’s shirt collar.

I do believe that is Belinda’s shade. “Hey, Jer. Can I get a drink?” Sloane asks, setting her empty glass on the counter.

She refused to leave it behind, joking that Henry Wolf would find a way to charge her with theft if he found out .

“Yeah, I got you. I’ll come up with something good.” Jeremy winks and abandons his cleaning task.

Her fingertips graze my forearm. “Where’s the restroom? I’d like to freshen up?”

“Inside those doors and to the left.” I nod toward the building. “I’ll grab your drink and meet you there in a few.”

With a secretive smile, she takes the steps up, her dress billowing with a slight breeze.

“You fucking owe me,” Connor says into his glass.

“I don’t know. Looks like you might owe me.” I flick his stained collar. Connor’s been itching to hook up with Belinda again forever. He talked about that day for months after.

“You kidding me?” The usual dumb grin on his face is absent. And does he have a fat lip?

My concern swells. “What happened?”

He chugs the rest of his beer. “She chose violence.”

“Wait. So you two didn’t fuck?”

“Oh, we did.” He winces as he stands. “I wouldn’t use your desk again without giving it a good wipe down.”

I cringe. “What the?—”

“For the lady.” Jeremy slides a glass filled with a purple-tinged water and lavender sprigs poking out.

“Thanks, man.” I collect the glass, and we peel away from the bar. “You used my office?”

“She insisted. I wasn’t gonna say no.”

If that isn’t Belinda sending a message …

“Is there any blood through my shirt?” He gives his back to me.

“ Blood ? No. ”

“I’m surprised.” Connor limps as he climbs the stairs, and I can’t tell if it’s because of his knee or some new injury he earned doing my bidding. The idea of the latter leaves me feeling guilty. I snapped at the dude and then fed him to a lioness.

“She also grilled me about Sloane. Wanted to know her name, where you two met, if we’ve fucked her together. All the good stuff.”

That much, I expected. I guess Henry didn’t share his PI’s pictures with her. “What’d you tell her?”

“I played dumb. Said I didn’t know where you guys hooked up, and I just met her tonight. Threw out a bunch of names that start with S . Susy, Sally, Sandra …”

His forgetfulness wouldn’t be hard to buy. It’s Connor, after all. He struggles to remember the names of women he’s balls-deep in. “And then?”

“And then she broke my dick, man!” he whines. “Seriously, I don’t know if it’ll ever work right again.”

I chuckle. “I’m sure it’s gonna work fine. Test it out on someone else if you’re really worried.”

“I saw Margo come in.”

“There you go. Tell her you have a problem you need her to fix.” That woman is always game, and she has the hands of a master masseuse specializing in the male anatomy.

The corner of his mouth twitches, and then, finally, his broad grin returns.

That’s more like it. “Sorry about earlier.”

“No worries. I heard you loud and clear. This one’s different, huh?”

“Yeah. She is.” I don’t know if that worries or excites me more. Now I have something to lose.

“Worth getting canned for?” He points toward Opal Reef’s propped-open doors and the dozens of people in tailored, expensive clothing milling about.

Some I recognize, like a svelte, willowy Margo in crimson red, her black hair longer than when I last saw her, reaching her shoulders in a shiny curtain.

Her photographer boyfriend stands next to her as they laugh with Preston and his “date” for the evening—a brunette with filled lips and a blank, unimpressed expression.

A stony-faced Merrick stands next to her and listens quietly, unamused.

Many others, I’ve never met, but I can guess they’re either rich or influential or both. And looming at the center of it all, with his back to us, is the great and powerful Henry Wolf himself.

Is it worth losing this job for a chance at waking up next to someone I care about? “If it comes to that, absolutely.”

Connor regards me intently for a moment. “Well, giddyup, then. This is going to be entertaining to watch.”

The ladies’ room door swings open, and Sloane strolls out, her flyaway hair tamed, her dress smoothed out as best she can. “Better?”

“Sure.” I rake my gaze over her chest, searching for a glimpse of those perfect nipples I know are hiding beneath. “Though I liked you in the hut too.” When she was naked and riding my dick.

Heat sparks in Sloane’s eyes. She may call herself a vanilla lover, but I’ll bet she’s more risqué than she thinks, and I can’t wait to test that theory out .

“The sex hair was hot. See you two on the other side.” Connor hobbles away.

Sloane watches him with concern. “His limp is getting worse. Is he okay?”

“He will be.” And I’m sure his encounter with Belinda will become another one of his legendary stories. I hand Sloane the lavender drink. “What is it, anyway?” Something on our menu, I guess? Though it doesn’t look familiar.

“No idea.” She sniffs it before taking a sip. “But it’s what I needed.”

“Our little walk was what I needed, so thank you.”

“Yeah?” Reaching up, she finger-combs a few strands of my hair into place. “There. That’s better.”

“I can still taste you on my tongue.”

A slight flush pinks her cheeks as if she’s remembering the moment her fists clenched and her pelvis rolled against it. “That’s what the beer is for.”

“Nah. I like it. Repeat, later?”

Her mouth parts, and excitement sparks in her eyes. “Let’s get through dinner first, okay?”

“Fair enough. Ready to meet your favorite guy?” All I want to do is take her back to her place and keep her there forever. Ideally, naked.

Her chest rises with a deep inhale. Hard to believe I had her trembling beneath me only twenty minutes ago for an entirely different reason. Now, she’s full of trepidation. But she rolls her shoulder, and the simple act seems to steel her nerve. “Let’s do this.”

I slip an arm around her back to hook her waist—in case there’s any mistake that she’s here with me—and lead her in.

Eleanor and her team have spared no effort in organizing tonight’s “casual” dinner, rearranging candle-clad tables into two lengthy, wide rows, giving everyone a seat with a view of the aquatic tank.

A woman plays the white grand piano in the corner, the soft, classical music serving as quiet background noise against the bursts of laughter and chatter.

My goal to find Abbi is momentarily forgotten as a mermaid glides effortlessly through the water, her pink-and-cream iridescent costume shimmering under the lights.

“They do actually look like mermaids.” Sloane pauses to watch the performer with awe. “Honestly, I was thinking it’d be tacky, but her costume is art.”

The costume might border on obscene for the prudish, hugging the performer’s body like a second skin, leaving little to the imagination in some areas. “For what it cost, I should hope so.” When I saw the byline in Lena’s budget, I nearly choked.

“It’s not just what she’s wearing. The way she moves and the tail and … everything .”

The performer spins and twirls, a small line of bubbles escaping her nose as she moves gracefully.

“Where do they learn to swim like this?” Sloane asks.

“I told you. Mermaid school.” I give the same answer as before, because I still don’t fucking know.

“Oh, right, yes, that place.” She cuts me a dry look, but it slips off just as fast. “You know, they have these kinds of aquatic shows in other places too. Did you hear about that one where a performer was attacked by a fish?”

“Uh, no , I did not hear about that.”

“Yeah. Same idea as this. It was a few months ago. I can’t remember where it was.”

I eye the marine life with renewed wariness. “What kind of fish?”

“A big one? I hope that doesn’t happen here.”

“If it does, that’s Lena’s department.” Add it to the list after chefs who maim themselves and housekeeping staff who fuck in the guest rooms.

Sloane takes in the room. “This is different than I expected.”

“And what did you expect?”

“With some of the crazy headlines I’ve seen about him and his friends? I don’t know. Strobe lights and EDM? Whips and chains? A sex den?”

“That’s not until later,” I deadpan.

She falters. “You’re joking, right?”

Not as much as you might think . And that’s not a question I can answer without divulging secrets better taken to my grave.

A cobalt-blue dress catches my notice followed quickly by lengthy red hair. Abbi’s in deep conversation with a server carrying a silver platter. Bonus, Henry is nowhere nearby.

“Come on.” I lead Sloane over by the hand.

“… sushi’s a big no-no.” Abbi’s hand smooths over her belly.

“Of course, that makes sense,” the pretty blond server with corkscrew curls says. “Let me ask the chef to put together a plate for you.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to do that.” Abbi waves her off.

“I insist, Mrs. Wolf. I’ll be back in less than a minute.” She ducks away, her mission imperative.

“Hey, Red,” I call out.

Abbi spins around, her eyes flashing wide on Sloane before darting back to me. “Ronan! I was looking for you. I heard you took off.”

“Just for a walk on the beach.” I lean in to kiss her cheek, catching a whiff of her shampoo. It used to be my favorite scent, but Sloane’s spell-casting perfume has officially assumed top spot. “This is her,” I whisper.

“You were supposed to give me some warning,” she hisses back in my ear.

By the time I’ve pulled away, Abbi has her smile firmly affixed. “ Hi . You must be Sloane.”

Beside me, Sloane stands frozen for a few beats before seeming to snap out of it. “Yes. Hi. It’s nice to meet you.” She hesitates, her gaze dropping to Abbi’s belly. “I didn’t realize you were expecting.”

“Oh, yes.” Abbi beams. “A few more months. I can’t wait to meet her, but also to have my body back.”

An unreadable look passes over Sloane’s face. “Wow, that’s … congratulations.”

“Thank you.” Abbi’s eyes flitter to me before she continues. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

Sloane winces. “Yeah …”

“I mean, from Ronan,” Abbi clarifies with a laugh. “I don’t get involved in Henry’s business stuff. ”

“Here you go, Ms. Wolf.” The server is back as fast as promised, handing Abbi a small plate with delicacies from one hand before offering the platter balanced in her other hand to us. “Seared scallops?” A stack of napkins miraculously appears. The woman’s an octopus.

“Is that tobiko?” I ask, eyeing the little orange balls.

“It is!”

I collect one. “Make sure you head over there to that blond guy.” I point to where Connor is, next to Margo. “He loves tobiko.”

Sloane presses her lips together as if to keep from laughing.

“Absolutely.” With a beaming smile up at me, the server strolls away.

“The service here is unreal.” Abbi sizes up the choices on her plate with delight.

“Have you been to the spa yet?” I ask before stuffing the scallop into my mouth. It’s the first thing I’ve eaten since Abbi and I sprawled out in the cabana this morning, and I’m famished.

“Yes! They have a great prenatal massage and …” Abbi’s words trail a moment before my name is called by a deep, male voice.