Caught By Surprise. Sandra Paul

even though several of the jabs Ralph and Little Dougie directed toward the merman were vicious enough to make her wince. Ralph had told her father he’d be putting the merman in a smaller cage, and she could see he’d need to do so in order to get closer.

      But then Ralph threw down his pole. “This is asinine—a complete waste of time,” he snarled, wiping at the sweat on his face with the back of his hand. Even from a distance, Beth could see angry disgust in his expression as he added, “We’re going to have to tranquilize him.”

      “No!” Beth cried out, jumping to her feet.

      Everyone turned toward the staircase. Even the merman—a still, golden form in the water—glanced at her as she rushed down the stairs.

      The Delano brothers and the merman continued to watch her descent, but Ralph turned away to climb down from the platform. When he reached the floor, he glanced at her, then looked over at Big Mike and Little Dougie.

      “Take a break,” he said, jerking his thumb in the direction of the stairs.

      Without comment, the men threw down their poles and headed past Beth on their way out. Ignoring them, she hurried on toward Ralph. By the time she reached him, he was crouching next to a wooden trunk by the platform steps.

      Beth, already breathless, grew even more so when she saw the dart gun he lifted out. “You can’t!” she said.

      He glanced at her, the recent anger on his face replaced with his usual expression of kindly wisdom. “I have to. He refuses to get into the cage.”

      “But there’s no way to tell how a tranquilizer will affect him. It might hurt or permanently injure him.”

      “I doubt it, but even so that’s a risk I’ll have to take.” Ralph rose to his feet, gun still in hand. He reached into the box again for some darts and stuffed them in his pocket as he reminded her, “I need to tend to that wound.”

      “But you said his wound was minor.”

      He shrugged. “I realized when I saw it again today that I was wrong. But don’t take my word for it. See for yourself.”

      He gestured toward the platform, silently inviting her to climb up. Stung by the mockery in his tone, Beth glanced at his face. His expression was polite, concerned—and just the slightest bit condescending. Her fingers curled into fists. Ralph knew she was afraid of the water—not to mention the merman himself. But what he didn’t know was that no Livingston ever backed down from a challenge.

      Squaring her shoulders, she stomped toward the wooden steps. Ignoring Ralph’s surprised expression, she climbed up them, aware that he was following right behind her. When she reached the top, she gingerly walked out a few feet onto the platform, careful to stay in the center of the structure. There she paused, and forced herself to look out over the tank for the merman.

      For a few dizzying seconds, she couldn’t even find him. All she could see were the undulating peaks and valleys of the restless water. Then a golden flash broke the surface at the far side of the tank. Like a dolphin, the merman suddenly arced high into the air, droplets of water glittering all around him like a shower of diamonds before he disappeared back beneath the surface.

      “He’s never done that before!” Ralph exclaimed in surprise, then frowned. From beneath lowered brows, he slanted a considering glance at the woman by his side.

      Beth barely noticed. Startled by the merman’s sudden appearance, she’d only caught a glimpse of the red mark high on his left shoulder before he dived underwater. She kept her eyes on his shadowy form, waiting for him to resurface. When he rose into view again, he was much closer, and this time Beth saw his wound clearly. The sight made her stomach lurch. Obscenely red and raw, the gash looked painful—as if someone had crudely slashed a lightning bolt into the merman’s smooth bronzed skin.

      “It’s ghastly,” she said huskily as the merman dived back underwater. Turning to confront Ralph, she demanded, “You didn’t see how bad it was yesterday?”

      He shrugged, smiling ruefully. “All right, yes. I did. But I didn’t want to worry your father.”

      “So you lied.”

      His smile faded, and his wide brow creased in a slight frown. Removing a dart from his pocket, Ralph slipped it into the gun before glancing at her again. His voice was very crisp as he retorted, “No, I simply bent the truth a little.”

      Snapping the clip down, he strode to the edge of the platform and peered into the water with a narrowed gaze. His jaw tightened as he saw that the merman had swum to the far side of the tank.

      With an impatient exclamation, Ralph swung back around to face Beth. His frown darkening at the disapproval on her face, he added, “I’m concerned about your father’s condition, too, Elizabeth. I thought it best to save him as much anxiety as possible. If you can’t understand that—”

      “I can,” she interrupted, biting her lip.

      He nodded abruptly. “Good. Now go get the Delanos back in here—and perhaps you’d better stay outside a while. This won’t hurt the animal, but—”

      Ralph broke off to stare down in stunned surprise at the strong, lean hand grasping his ankle. “What the hell is— Ack!”

      The pistol flew into the air, skittering at Beth’s feet as Ralph fell backward. With a huge splash he hit the water.

      Beth’s eyes widened and her hand flew up to cover her mouth. Good lord! The merman had jerked Ralph off his feet!

      Hurrying to the end of the platform, she looked down over the edge. The merman was swimming away. Ralph was flailing just beneath the surface of the water.

      He bobbed up, gasping for air. “Elizabeth! Get the Delanos, I—”

      A muscular armed wrapped around his neck, choking the words off. The merman had circled, coming up behind him. With frightening ease, the merman pulled Ralph back against his broad chest, holding him there with one arm across his throat, the other around his ribs. The immense muscles of the merman’s shoulders and biceps leaped into corded knots beneath his gleaming brown skin as slowly, steadily, he tightened his grip.

      Beth watched in horror as Ralph’s eyes widened. His round cheeks turned from pink to red as he tore fruitlessly at the muscular forearm locked against his wind-pipe. His eyes rolled then bulged as he fought to escape, his expression filled with panic. But it was the sheer lack of emotion on the merman’s face behind him that finally spurred Beth into action.

      “Oh, no. Oh, please no,” she pleaded unconsciously, desperately looking around, trying to decide what to do.

      Her frantic glance fell on the tranquilizer gun Ralph had dropped on the wood. Snatching it up, she pointed it with a trembling hand toward the two figures battling in the water.

      Ralph’s struggles were growing feebler. His face, held just above the water line, turned from red to purple. On shaking legs, Beth moved to the other side of the platform, trying to get a clear shot at the merman’s back.

      She had it—his uninjured shoulder was in her sights. She steadied her hand. But a split second before she pulled the trigger, he swung around again.

      The dart hit Ralph, high in the chest.

      Beth’s hand fell, the gun dropping from her numb fingers. She could see the dart sticking out from Ralph’s wet shirt, right below the tanned forearm locked around his neck. The blood drained from her face. Now—thanks to her—the merman would finish Ralph off with no problem at all.

      “Oh, God, no,” she said, the words emerging huskily from her tight throat. “I’ve as good as killed him.”

      The thrashing figures suddenly became ominously still as trapped in the merman’s hold, Ralph went limp. Over his shoulder, Beth’s despairing gaze locked with merciless blue eyes. For a long, endless moment the merman stared at her silently.

      Then he slid underwater, carrying Ralph with him. Beth’s hand