43

LOGAN WOKE UP WITH A HELL OF A HANGOVER. AND

he hadn’t even been drinking—how was that for

fucking sucks?

No, it wasn’t a hangover. He was drained. Physically from one of the best nights of his life—before her reve-lation—and emotionally… from, well…

The damn revelation itself.

She was a mermaid. A mermaid.

He wouldn’t have believed it if he hadn’t seen it with his own eyes. He almost wished he’d touched her tail—

No he didn’t. She was a mermaid, for chrissake.

Mermaids were myths. Legends. Sirens. They lured ships onto rocks and sailors to their deaths by promis-ing nights of deadly delight. Which she’d proved in that damn kitchen.

He knew something weird had been going on. He didn’t attack women. No matter how gorgeous they were.

And yet, he’d slept with her. Was he out of his mind?

He had to be. She had to have cast some spell over him to make him fall—oh, shit.

Logan threw the covers off, one half of his brain call-ing him all sorts of idiot for even thinking what he w