"Have you ever met a water sprite?" she asked.
"Once."
Yeah, the serial killer lunatic was probably going to kill her tonight. Did she have any regrets? She thought for a long moment. Just one: not dumping Logan before coming to the beach this weekend. Her eyes went to the chiseled features of the man sitting near her. He was handsome, with olive skin and eyes that looked as dark as the ocean. He was also too grave to appreciate the gorgeous night.
"What're you thinking about?" she asked.
"The day job."
"Oh, no," she told him. "The moon is full, the sky full of stars." She breathed in deeply. "I love the smell of the ocean. You can't sit here on such a beautiful night and think about the day job."
"I suppose."
"I'm going to guess you kill people for a living," she said, eyes on what was definitely a line of small throwing knives and was that a sword lining the thigh on the far side? "Not judging. Just saying, take a break and look around."
He looked at her hard. She returned her gaze to the sky at the awkward silence that fell.
"Are you drunk?" he asked at last.
"No. Just happy to be alive."
"That makes one of us." The dry note in his voice made her think he had his own inside joke. "You're not drunk. You're not a water sprite, and you're not afraid to be alone on a beach with a man you think murders people."
"You know pretty much everything there is to know about me," she said, laughing. "My turn. You're an off-duty serial killer with an affinity for weapons with blades who believes in imaginary creatures and takes the time to talk to crazy women lying on the beach."
"Everything but off-duty."
"That does not bode well for me."
"You're not on my list tonight."
"Glad to hear. Not fearing for my life is a total turn on," she retorted.
He laughed. The sound was rough, as if he didn't laugh often.
"There you go," she said. "Life's too short to waste a night like this."
He met her gaze. Deidre was surprised to feel her body grow warm from the inside out. She'd never been turned on by a look, though if anyone could do it, the intense man beside her could. Her face grew hot under his scrutiny, and she was grateful for the face paint covering her blush.
"You're right," he said at last, a trace of a smile pulling up the corners of his full lips. "What're you thinking about?"
"Oh, you don't want to know," she said with a sigh.