“Please stand up!” Neridia seized both his forearms, tugging. “I want to-I mean, I’ve never-just stand up!”
He allowed her to pull him back to his feet, unfolding again to his full height. Neridia’s breath caught in her throat.
I’m dreaming. This has got to be a dream.
She barely came up to his chin. His deep chest was thick with muscle, the gleaming skin a shade or two darker than her own. Every line of his body screamed power, from his impossibly broad shoulders to the hard curves of his thighs. He was so outsized and yet so perfectly proportioned that he seemed more a work of art than a man; some sculptor’s final masterpiece.
“You’re tall,” she said stupidly, and could have kicked herself. It was what other people always said to her. “Sorry! I meant, you’re taller. Than me.”
He started to sink back to his knees, and she hastily waved her hands to stop him. “No! I like that you’re tall! Um, not that you care or anything, it’s just-“
“I care,” he interrupted her. His eyes were still very wide, as if he was as shell-shocked as her. “I care very much.”
He brought up one of his hands, almost but not quite brushing her face. Very slowly, never actually making contact, he traced the curve of her cheek. Neridia trembled with the desire to lean into his touch, to close that last distance between them…but she didn’t dare.
Despite his gentle words, the stranger’s expression was pure agony. He had the look of a man abruptly confronted with everything he ever wanted…and could never have.
“Oh, my lady.” Water ran down his face. “Where were you?”
Neridia could barely process the question, still lost in disbelieving wonder. “When?”
“Now. Then. Always.” The man dropped his hand, gesturing out at Loch Ness. “All this time, you were here?”
She nodded. “I’ve always lived here. Why?”
Her simple assent seemed to hit him like a blow to the gut. He closed his eyes tightly, as if he couldn’t bear the sight of her any longer.
His obvious pain made her own heart clench in response. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
“I…I…” All his previous eloquence had apparently deserted him. “I searched for you, my lady. I swear to you, I searched.”
He searched…for me?
Some long-silent part of Neridia’s soul sang in pure joy, even as she tried to wrap her rational brain around what was happening.
Before she could ask him what he meant, the man took a deep breath. His chiseled features settled into a look of grim, stoic determination. Setting his shoulders as though lifting a heavy burden, he opened his eyes.
“What is your name?” he asked her.
“Neridia,” she said. She braced herself for the inevitable comment. “Neridia Small.”
He shook his head. “Not your air name. Your real name.”
Caught off-balance by this unusual response to her painfully ironic surname, she could only blink at him.
“Come.” The stranger turned, and started wading deeper into the loch. “Swim with me.”
Neridia found she’d actually taken a step after him. The chill kiss of water against her knees brought her crashing back to sanity.
“Wait!” she called after his retreating back. “I can’t-wait! I don’t even know your name!”
He was chest-deep in the water already. He looked back over his shoulder at her, and her heart broke at the despair in his eyes.
“I will tell you,” he said.
And then-
Chapter 3