Page 77 of Loched in Love

“Wow.”

I glance over at the massive pile of ancient coins, then back down into her eyes. “Creatures like myself are driven by a deep, primal need to claim what is theirs,” I continue, brushing a stray lock of damp hair from her face. “Finding that crown, that treasure, tonight triggered those dormant instincts inside you. The gold called to you because of your new mate bond with me and demanded that you claim me as part of your treasure hoard. Just like I was influenced with you, and seeing me walk into the dark.” I smile, and press a tender kiss to her lips. “Your instincts demanded you claim your mate too as you’re acting on pure, raw impulses.”

Elena blinks, a slow, amused grin breaking across her expression as the puzzle pieces seem to clink together in her brain. “So, what you’re saying is I didn’t raid your treasures, I was just acting like a proper Loch Ness monster queen.”

“Exactly,” I answer, my chest beginning to vibrate with pride. “And you rule it beautifully.”

Chapter 31

ELENA PIERSON

The chilly water of the lagoon is like a brutal slap in the face to my senses, shocking away the lingering warmth of Lachlan’s bed right out of me. Standing on the smooth rock at the very edge of the underground lake, I peer down into the waters and gauge which area I want to take a sample of.

Wearing a pair of denim shorts and an oversized sweater along with a look of absolute determination, I clutch at the sterile plastic scoop and specimen jar. “Alright, Lachlan,” I say, gazing down into the shallow water right at my feet. “It’s time to turn this vacation into a scientific discovery and see what other hidden treasures your lair holds.”

The water ripples beside me gently as Lachlan steps out of the lake’s deeper channel. He towers over me in his human form, looking entirely at home, a pair of heart-shaped sunglasses shielding his eyes from the overhead neon lights of the cavern. He walks up the submerged stone steps, the water sliding off his broad chest, powerful shoulders and swim trunks like a model in a very rugged, very supernatural tourism ad, and my stomach does a little dip of desire.

“You’re a relentless woman, my flower,” he says, an affectionate and sleepy smile tugging on his lips as he joins me on the ledge. He completely ignores the chilly air, as if his internal temperature is unbothered by the cold morning climate of the cavern. “One would think after a night of passion you’d want breakfast first thing in the morning. But no, instead you want to play in the mud.”

“I got over seven hours, and it’s not just mud Lachlan, it’s untouched prehistoric sediment,” I correct him, holding up the empty jar like the trophy it is.

“This whole cave edge has been perfectly sheltered from the outside world for more than three hundred years, and the silt there has been sitting completely undisturbed. I don’t think you understand that this layer of mud is a literal time capsule, and I don’t even have to dive to get it.”

Lachlan rests his chin on my shoulder and peeks curiously down at the smooth patch of gray and black silt resting just below the shallow surface. “Right, only the very best of time capsule mud for my queen, and I won’t have you baring yourself for the icy swim either. Show me what I can do to help?”

“Just hold me steady,” I say, leaning back into his chest. “I just need to reach down and scoop a clean layer without violently kicking up any silt clouds. If we do, it’ll ruin the sample, so we need to be incredibly precise.”

Lachlan’s arms tighten securely around me, anchoring me to him against the slippery stone.

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his deep green eyes shifting from playful to incredibly intense and filled with pride. “Aye, clearly what you do is just a different kind of magic. You’re brilliant.”

My cheeks flush at the words. “Quit making me blush. Usually, people get bored once I start yapping about microorganisms and their habitats.”

“You’re the one tracking these tiny creatures across time, Elena. I’m merely stating the facts,” he replies calmly, his deep voice causing the hair on the back of my neck to raise with how he speaks in my ear.

I bend to kneel at the water’s edge as he keeps a stabilizing hold on me, his hands on my hips and gaze fixated on the silt as I lower the plastic scoop.

“Go on then, capture your wee monsters, my genius queen.”

“It’s actually really important,” I say softly, blushing a bit as I ease the tip of the scoop toward the black and gray silt. “Back home at the university lab, I have a baseline of data from our local freshwater lakes. If I can compare this isolated sediment data to it, I can have a map of exactly how human pollution and environmental changes have warped modern microorganisms and their habitats over the last few centuries. Your hidden cave is a perfect before picture to the world’s after, essentially. It’s the missing piece of my entire research project.”

Lachlan presses a tender kiss to my neck, sending chills up my spine. “And you’ve been my missing piece for far longer.”

Focusing on my work to keep from melting into his arms and becoming distracted for the next few hours, I take a breath and steady my hand before gently sliding the plastic scoop into the sediment, saving history with my tiny jar.

With it safely sealed and packed away, we head back up the wooden stairway up the galleon, Lachlan carrying it like its spun glass, like he’s treating my master thesis with the same reverence he does his gold.

And honestly it kind of is, at least to me, and I’ve every intention of keeping this place entirely secret too.

Seeing as there are various undisclosed cave systems in the area, it shouldn’t be hard to keep the exact location that I took the sediment behind a lot of coding walls and restriction areas, keeping it scrubbed from public view entirely.

Scientists rarely care about where things were found and usually just want the findings to maintain credibility, which keeps Lachlan’s home safe.

We step into the main galley. Just as I pass the heavy iron stove, a sudden frantic succession of vibrating starts in my denim shorts pocket that nearly makes me jump out of my skin. “Crap,” I mutter, reaching to grab it.

I’d forgotten I pocketed it from my backpack earlier when I was grabbing my kit and specimen jars.

There is absolutely no cell reception down here, but the ship’s ancient stove must be acting like a weird localized lightning rod for data because the moment my feet touch a specific floorboard, a huge stream of backlogged test messages flood my screen at once.