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Jason called out, “so don’t try sneaking off.”
    Of course it was.
    “Oh!” he added. “And Shane asked me to remind you that you’re not to go looking for Dana. He said he doesn’t want her upset again.”
    Reaching for the door, Liv gritted her teeth. What Shane meant was that he would get upset and hurt Dana. Bastard.
    Liv entered the dark cottage and slammed the door shut before leaning against it. What the hell was she going to do? Shane had her backed into a corner. A big scary, cobweb-filled corner with giant fanged spiders and boogie men.
    Running to Roen was no longer a smart move. What if that was what Shane wanted—to start some big fight? Going along with Shane’s demands and pretending she wanted him would also provoke an ugly confrontation because, like Jason said, nobody got between a merman and his mate.
    Goddammit. Goddammit! All of these options led to very heinous places.
    What if I prevent Roen from fighting for me at all? What if she convinced Roen that she didn’t want him anymore? After all, she was “defective,” so maybe she could convince him that her mate feelings had gone away.
    No, it wasn’t a permanent solution, in terms of Shane going after Roen, though it would buy her time to figure out what to do next and keep Dana from being claimed.
    Of course, if she was successful, she might actually end up becoming Shane’s for the night.
    Liv’s entire soul bucked in protest, but there simply wasn’t another option. Liv ran her hand over the wall next to the door and found the light switch.
    “Hello, Liv.”
    “Fuck!” Liv jumped.
    With his hands casually in his pockets, Roen stood at the other end of the cozy living room—decorated in a nautical theme with powder-blue walls, paintings of sailboats, and large seashells on the distressed white coffee table. Like the last time she’d seen him, both in person and in her dream, Roen wore a crisp white dress shirt and dark, well-tailored pants that accentuated every inch of his tall, masculine form.
    “Nice to see you, too,” he said in that slow, arrogant, deep voice before casually strolling toward a small table in the corner topped with a tray of clean glasses and several liquor bottles. He poured a tall glass of something, scotch perhaps, threw it back, and then stared with flaring nostrils, his thick arms over his broad chest. All the while, Liv watched his every move, trying to keep herself calm. She knew his laid-back stance was for show, because a look of pure rage flickered in his hypnotic green eyes.
    “Roen, what are you doing here?”
    “You sound afraid.”
    Of course. She had no clue if Roen was a threat. The man had changed. Bigger. Meaner. Deadlier. Then there was her. Five seven, medium build, about as much muscle as a mussel.
    “I’m not afraid,” she lied. “I just know how you can get.” She discreetly placed her hand on the door handle at her back, ready to run.
    “You may remove your hand from the door. I’m much more controlled these days,” he said, his voice low and menacing. “When I want to be.”
    So much for discreet . She’d forgotten how mermen had better hearing along with the eyesight.
    “So…why are you here?” She dropped her hands, attempting to appear calm and indifferent; meanwhile her eyes wouldn’t stop moving up and down, gliding over his beautiful body, drinking in every inch of him. His shape, right down to the wide width of his shoulders and narrow waist, was pure seduction material. Not too beefy and bulky, but tall, solid, and sublimely male. And his face, though now sporting a short rich-brown beard, was nothing shy of breathtaking, including those sensual lips that balanced between silky soft and firm, just perfect for wrapping around a throbbing nipple. Or lower .
    As if reading her suggestive thoughts, his intensely carnal gaze moved down, down, down and lingered over the body part longing for his attention.
    Don’t, Liv. Don’t show him what he does to you .
    She