Selkie's Revenge by Rosanna Leo Page B

redheaded man grinned at her, his gold tooth glinting. He then noticed Mack glaring a few feet away, and his smile flopped on his face like a captured cod on a fisherman’s boat deck. He nodded curtly at the other man. “I was watching to see when you were coming home. I made you a stew.” He held up the large dish.
    Beth lifted the lid off the CorningWare, sniffing it, and then replaced the lid. “That’s so sweet.” She looked over at Mack. “Isn’t that nice, Mack?”
    Mack kept his eye on Gerald. “Incredibly nice. Do I smell fish?”
    Gerald walked into the kitchen and set the dish in Beth’s refrigerator. “It’s a fish stew,” he announced. “I’m a fisherman. I like to bring Beth the nicer bits and bobs from my catches.”
    Beth and Mack joined him in the kitchen. She proceeded to make tea for the three of them. “It’s true. Frank and I had Gerald and Colin over for dinner a lot. Since Gerald’s divorce, he doesn’t get a lot of home-cooked meals. To help out, he always brought us the most delicious crab and brown trout.” She laid a hand on Gerald’s arm. “I’m sorry I haven’t been much of a hostess lately.”
    “No one would blame you, darlin’,” he replied. He winked at her.
    The atmosphere grew suddenly tense, Beth couldn’t help noticing, as Mack watched her and Gerald commiserate. She’d swear the light in the room grew dimmer, but then she realized the weather outside had changed. Where the day had begun bright, it now looked like rain. Strange. She couldn’t recall any rain in the forecast for today.
    That was Orkney. Just another reason to go back to Florida.
    And yet every time Mack blinked at Gerald, the sky seemed to turn a shade darker. Weird.
    As the pungent scent of Gerald’s stew permeated the house, the three of them sat and had a cup of tea. They continued to chat, but conversation was strained. Mostly, she noticed, on Mack’s part. He suddenly seemed to be a fan of one-word answers.
    For a second, she wondered if he didn’t like Gerald. It didn’t make sense. Everyone liked Gerald. Gerald certainly loved Gerald.
    But as her neighbor prattled on about his latest fishing trip, Beth found her gaze drifting back to Machar. And she realized she wanted to know very much why he seemed so averse to the other man and how it was that the oppressive atmosphere in the room seemed to be shooting right from Mack’s eyes.
    *
    Mack focused on Gerald Finnegan, his grip tight on Beth’s delicate china cup. He almost bit his lip in fury when he read what was going through the fisherman’s mind.
    The picture in Gerald’s head was quite clear. Even as he whined about bad catches and crab traps, he was picturing Beth. Naked. Tied to his bedposts.
    Mack set the cup down on the table with a clatter. Some of the tea splashed out. Dazed, he stared at the mess he’d made. What had come over him? Beth jumped up from the kitchen table and brought over some paper towels. She proceeded to wipe up the tea, but he took the towels from her. “No, let me do it. My fault.”
    “Looks like you’ve got some butter fingers there, mate,” Gerald teased, laughing. “It’s a good thing Beth never gave you red wine.”
    Mack tried to grin at Gerald but was sure his expression resembled more of a snarl. He wanted to throttle the man for the raunchy images in his head. How dare he picture Beth in that lurid position? Spread open on Gerald’s bed, unable to move? He didn’t like the idea of the widow being tied to any man’s bedposts.
    But his.
    What?
    Mack’s head reeled. Okay, he could admit he’d enjoyed having Beth to himself, but now with Gerald in the house, he suddenly felt as if he were on the outside looking in. He didn’t like the fact that Gerald was part of her inner circle. Mack wanted to be in her inner circle. Hell, right now he wanted to be the president of her inner circle.
    “Uh,” Mack stammered, not quite sure what he was going to say anymore. “Beth, you’ve been