Touching Paradise: The Shark Shifter Paranormal Romance, #1

Prologue

Koenraad whipped through the cool blue ocean, each slice of his crescent tail propelling him faster, the water rushing over his powerful body. Two minutes earlier, he’d sensed a boat approaching his yacht… and that could only mean one thing.

He hoped, oh god, he hoped it was good news.

A large school of bluefin tuna scattered before him in terror. He passed through a drifting tangle of seaweed, felt a clump snag on his triangular dorsal fin before tearing away.

He didn’t slow as he neared his yacht. Instead, he exploded out of the water, shifting human mid-air, landing on the deck in a crouch with a graceless, wet thump.

His light blond hair was in need of a cut, and he shoved the dripping mass out of his eyes as he straightened. The dangerously fast pounding of his heart and his burning lungs rendered him momentarily speechless, but he kept the pain off his face.

So this is what you’re doing out here weeks on end, Darius said in a lazy drawl. Your touchdown needs work, but it’s a nice trick. He was leaning casually against the rail of his own sixty-foot yacht, a straw hat shading his eyes. The whiteness of his elegant beard contrasted with his ruddy face. Despite the humidity, his Bermuda shorts and tan shirt were crisp.

Koenraad continued to gulp down air while he scrutinized the other boat. No sign of the boy, and he didn’t smell him, either. Just Darius and two bodyguards.

He turned his attention to Darius, praying the man’s next words would put an end to his nightmare.

But Darius shook his head, and Koenraad’s heart sank.

It’s time for us to have a chat. Darius easily hopped the twelve feet that separated the vessels.

Koenraad bristled. It was bad form to board a boat without permission, and he didn’t like or trust Darius. You… here to help— He really couldn’t catch his breath. Every shifter knew better than to change to human in the middle of intense exertion. It was a good way to drop dead. Too much strain on the heart and circulatory system.

Help you what? Indulge your insanity and obsession? Seems you’ve got that well in hand. Darius softened his assessment with an uptick of his reddish lips. Hot today, he said as he lowered himself onto one of the padded bench seats.

If you’re overheated, there’s plenty of empty ocean to cool off in. Koenraad’s voice was still raspy, but his meaning came through just fine.

I know you’re grieving, so I’m going to overlook your tone. How about offering me a refreshment? Seems the polite thing to do.

I’m sure you’ve got some on your boat.

The genteel man’s face turned sharp. You’re swimming in shallow water, Koenraad.

Let me see about your refreshment. He nearly added a your highness, but stopped himself at the last moment. He went into the galley, feeling dazed, like he’d been woken unexpectedly. Blinking, he stared at the luxury that surrounded him. The custom-made wood cabinetry and furniture alone had cost tens of thousands. Now the excess made him sick. He hated it, hated that it was beautiful, that it reminded him of happier times. He wanted to destroy everything, sink this yacht.

His money, his power, his abilities… all useless.

He braced himself against the sink and took a deep breath, followed by another. He needed to get a grip. Losing his temper wouldn’t get him what he wanted.

As soon as he’d mastered his emotions, he put on a pair of linen pants, grabbed two bottles of water from the refrigerator and rejoined Darius, who hadn’t moved.

Much obliged, Darius said. He took his time opening the bottle, then slowly began to slake his thirst.

Koenraad stared blindly out over the expanse of blue water. He always knew which direction Tureygua was, but if he hadn’t, the breeze would have betrayed the island’s position as due west. The scents of suntan lotion, deep-fried food and human sweat mixed with petroleum and warm vegetation.

Tureygua. It was supposed to be a paradise, but for him, it was hell. He didn’t care if he never set foot on it again.

I know you’re grieving, Koenraad, and it’s clouding your thinking. You blame Victoria, but she’s distraught, too. Brady was her son as well. Do you think this is easy for her?

His anger mounting again, Koenraad held up a hand, but Darius wasn’t finished. Even if you find him, then what? He’s a shark.

He’s your nephew and a shifter!

"He was an animal. A shark, Darius pronounced. His steely blue gaze seemed to look into Koenraad’s soul. Finally Darius shook his head. What was your plan, anyway? Would you have kept him in your pool? Fed him fish flakes twice a day?" Darius removed his hat, revealing a bald dome fringed with snowy white hair, and set it on his knee.

Why are you here?

Courtesy. I’ve asked Victoria to patrol Tureygua. She’ll be here in a couple of days. Plenty of time to clear out if you need to—

No. Koenraad looked down at his hand, surprised that it was suddenly wet. He had crushed the water bottle in his fist. He stiffly walked into the galley to dispose of the ruined plastic.

The oceans would reek of Victoria, and she would, no doubt, be fighting to get into his bed, spouting nonsense about keeping the shark shifter lines pure, about replacing Brady.

She had torn his life apart twice. Once when she got pregnant after an ill-advised one-night stand when he was twenty-two. That moment of weakness had been a mistake… yet it had led to the best thing in his life.

Yes, Brady had been different. Six years old and he’d never learned to speak, and he was so frail that he seemed half his age. Often, the boy would spend hours staring at the ocean with unbridled longing. But Koenraad had known his son’s gentle soul. Brady wasn’t a mindless animal, not then and not now.

The second time Victoria had ruined his life was when she allowed Brady into the ocean alone. For that, Koenraad would never forgive her. Or himself.

He had spared no expense in the search for Brady, burning through tens of millions of dollars within weeks. Through bribery or promised favors, he’d forced every marine shifter he knew into the search. But increasingly, it was clear that he was the only one who cared.

Koenraad didn’t give a damn if his son never managed to shift human again. Once he found him—and he would, even if it cost every cent of his fortune—then Koenraad would shift shark, and they could leave for good. They would migrate the globe together, skirt the ice of Antarctica, taste the waters of Australia.

He was going to find Brady, and that meant staying near Tureygua. He wouldn’t quit or be run off.

The boiling rage settled to a simmer, and he stalked back out onto the deck.

He planted himself in front of Darius. If Victoria shows up here, there will be blood in the water.

No one wants to patrol islands instead of living free. I know it’s a bad job. If I had someone else to do it… Don’t suppose you’re interested?

Koenraad glowered down at Darius, but he knew the older man had the upper hand. He’d been trapped.

Darius offered up a thin smile. It’s for the good of the community.

If I agree—

Victoria stays away. Frankly, I don’t see why you hate her so much—

She’s a manipulative monster.

Darius shrugged, donned his hat and stood. Runs in our family. I’ll send over a contract tonight.

Chapter 1

Two Years Later

The wind rushed in from the dark ocean, ruffling the bottom of Monroe’s lime-green bridesmaid’s dress and raising goosebumps over her bare arms. She wanted to hide under the blankets in her hotel room, beyond the reach of the chilly Caribbean evening breeze. Instead, she took another nose-burning gulp from the bottle of champagne she had swiped during her graceless escape forty minutes earlier.

She needed to pull herself together.

Five more minutes. Then she’d go back inside.

She eased off her heels and flexed her toes while holding onto the rail for balance. The concrete of the balcony was chilly under her feet. Why was the evening so cold, anyway? When she’d arrived in Tureygua that afternoon, it had been so blistering hot that she’d longed for the icy streets of New York.

Several stories below, young surfers smoked something that hadn’t popped out of a cigarette machine. The individual words of their banter were swallowed by the laughing cadences of their speech.

She sighed and took another swallow. Even though there was a roomful of people who loved her not so far away, she felt lonely, stuck halfway between youthful freedom and adult responsibility.

Monroe!

Monroe groaned when she saw Tara, looking like an adorable green pompom in her dress, coming unsteadily toward her.

Repositioning herself to hide the bottle of champagne, Monroe forced a smile onto her face. The effort made her cheeks ache. Are the newlyweds having fun?

Tara nodded slowly, her head tilting, her blue eyes inching over Monroe. You’re avoiding us. Maybe you can fool everyone else, but I know better. She wobbled a moment, then braced herself against the railing next to Monroe.

Even tipsy, Tara was too perceptive. Monroe smiled harder. Are they looking for me…?

Everyone is drunk. Don’t worry, Tara said gently. So… Thomas really had to work?

Tara’s gaze shifted away. She was, Monroe realized, giving her an out. Making it easy to lie again.

Which, for some reason, made her eyes prickle with tears. She stared out at the water, dark and foreboding under the moon.

Finally Tara leaned forward and snagged the hidden bottle of champagne, her wedding band clinking against the thick glass, and took a hearty swig. Imagine if we’d had booze this good back in college, she said. We never would have graduated.

You should get back to Lee. I’m heading to bed soon, anyway.

Monroe—

I just need to be alone. You’re not being a bad friend.

Tara fidgeted for a moment. Ok, she sighed. I’ll cover for you if anyone asks. By the way, did you decide if you’re coming on the scuba boat with us tomorrow? I double-checked, and you can snorkel, no problem.

Oh, that. The idea of bobbing around in the middle of the ocean terrified her. Even Tara didn’t know about that phobia. Haven’t decided. There are some boutiques I want to check out.

Hey, I wanna go shopping, too. We’ll do it after. You should come. It’s just us girls… The boat company brings food and beer and everything we could possibly need. Party boat.

Maybe. Probably. Maybe. She sighed. Ok, fine. What time?

Great! Tara squealed. Shuttle comes at 7:30. I’ll email the tour guides right away. Tara fussed with the corner of Monroe’s dress. Whatever happened, you’re too good for him, you know.

Noted.

Tara went back inside, and Monroe turned back to the ocean, feeling simultaneously better and worse about herself. Tara had gotten married the year before. Now that Linda was married and Nya’s wedding was in a few months, Monroe was the last single girl in their group.

She didn’t mind being unmarried—she had plenty of time to settle down—but it would be nice to have a boyfriend who lasted longer than a pair of cheap shoes. Really, all she wanted was a man who could be bothered to show up at weddings. Was that too much to ask?

Two inches of champagne remained in the bottle. She poured them down her throat, then forced her cold and swollen feet back into the shoes.

Inside, everyone was dancing, laughing loudly, snapping photos with their phones. Merrily celebrating. She slipped around the perimeter of the room and ducked through a door at the edge, then hurried to the elevator.

Safely inside her own room, she put on pajamas. To distract herself from the gnawing ache in her soul, she flipped through the guide books on the night stand next to the bed. So many photos of happy tourists riding horses in the surf or getting massages next to a beautiful sunset.

There were a few articles, too. She skimmed one about the history of Tureygua and learned that Spaniards had enslaved the native population. Then the island had fallen under Dutch rule. Now it was independent.

She flipped past an ad for kitesurfing, and on