Chapter 33
Chapter Thirty-Three
Every fantasy that had drifted through Mason’s mind about Rowen had begun and ended with this moment.
He had dreamed of what she would taste like, but he wasn’t prepared for the light, the heat, and everything he never knew he craved.
None of his dreams had ever touched the wild sweetness or the fierce passion of her lips.
He deepened the kiss, ravenous for more. Her arms held him tightly while her fingers slid into his hair. Her soft curves molded against his aching body, causing his blood to singe his veins. His smoldering desire erupted into something primal and reckless—and past the point of no return.
Mason turned them so she was pressed between him and the fridge. He slipped a hand beneath the hem of the sweatshirt and touched warm, silken skin. Every fiber of his being yearned to bare her body and lay claim to it. It was a battle of control and craving. And he was losing.
Their tongues tangled in a kiss that burned with raw hunger and unspoken need, one that left no room for breath or doubt. It was a searing, soul-deep storm of passion that would forever ruin him for another.
To his surprise, his hand trembled as he caressed her side.
He had never wanted everything to go so perfectly as he did in that moment.
Her skin was satin beneath his touch, tender as temptation itself.
She carried the wild scent of pine and stone upon her rain-kissed skin and wind-washed hair.
He dragged in a deep breath, letting the aromas seep into his very soul.
His fingers grazed the outside of her bra as need thrummed fiercely, fervently through him.
Their tongues danced, the kiss frantic and blistering.
His heart thumped so loudly he could hear it.
Her fingers dug into his shoulders, holding him closer.
His heart hammered even louder, but he didn’t care.
Rowen was finally in his arms, and nothing was going to yank her away.
Gradually, he realized the pounding he heard wasn’t his heart at all. Mason bit back a howl of anger when he realized the sound was someone knocking. And they weren’t going away. He grudgingly ended the kiss and stared down at Rowen in wonder.
The sight of her kiss-swollen lips made him want to lay her across the table and sink into her wet heat, locking their bodies together forever. She opened her eyes. Need, hypnotic and dark, filled the pale blue depths. He gently touched her face, unable to believe what they had just shared.
But that wild passion started to dim in her eyes.
He watched in horror as it turned to dismay, then to regret.
She purposefully removed her hands from his body.
He took a step back, the pain cutting into his heart as sharp as a blade.
He wanted to know what had made her pull away.
He wanted to kiss her again, to take them back to that incredible place.
More knocking, even louder this time.
Mason intended to ignore them. He knew if Rowen walked away, he might never hold her in his arms again.
Her mobile rang from her room before he had a chance to form words.
She said nothing as she slipped away to answer it.
He clenched his jaw as the pounding at the door continued.
He stalked to the front and wrenched it open, ready to tear someone’s head off, but he found his sister standing beneath the awning, holding two garment bags.
Ferne’s smile died as she stared. “I interrupted something.”
He didn’t answer. He couldn’t. He was too upset—at fate for giving him what he desired most and then taking it away, at Rowen for kissing him to begin with, and at himself for wanting her so desperately.
Mason pushed open the door and moved aside for Ferne to enter. She gave him a hesitant look before walking past. He shut the door and followed her into the kitchen. His gaze turned down the hall, where he heard Rowen on the phone.
“I’m sorry,” Ferne whispered.
Mason blew out a breath and shook his head as he swung his gaze to her. “Forget it.”
“Hard to do when you looked ready to filet me a second ago.”
He grabbed the back of the chair and squeezed it, his thoughts on the unbelievable kiss followed by Rowen’s regret. She had been as involved in the kiss as he had. There was no mistaking her need or the fact that she had kissed him. So, what had changed?
Mason looked down to find his sister’s hand on his arm. He raised his head to stare into her worry-filled eyes, matching the frown that creased her forehead. “I’ll be fine,” he said.
“Bollocks. You forget how well I know you.”
“I don’t want to discuss it.”
She nodded and held out the two garment bags. “I brought clothes. Rowen has a couple of options. I didn’t know if she would prefer a dress or pants, so she has both. You have two ties to choose from.”
“Thanks,” he said and accepted the bags. “I’ll find a way to repay everyone.”
“There’s no need for that. We’re going to the wake tonight. I wasn’t sure if you and Rowen wished to come. It would be a good way to meet some of the locals. I don’t know how long you plan to stay—”
He shrugged. “I don’t know myself.”
“The Druid community here is close-knit.”
“Which means, getting to know them is in my best interests.”
She grinned. “For both you and Rowen.”
He could still hear her on the phone. “I’ll see what she wants to do.”
“Okay,” Ferne said as she set her keys on the table.
Mason held the bag with Rowen’s clothes in his right hand as he walked to her room. The door was pushed to the jamb but not closed. It opened wider as he rapped softly, and he poked his head in. She held up a finger when she saw him.
“Hang on, Mom.” Then she turned the mobile away from her face and looked at him, not quite meeting his gaze.
“Ferne brought some clothes for tomorrow. The wake is tonight. I’m going to go meet some of the other local Druids. Would you like to come?” He knew the answer before the words left his mouth.
She wrinkled her nose. “I think I’m going to catch up with my mom and aunts. There’s a lot to pass on. Besides, I’m still chilled from getting caught in the rain.”
“Okay. I’ll see you later.”
Mason closed the door and remained for a heartbeat before heading to his room. After he’d hung up the suit, he quickly changed and returned to the kitchen, where Ferne waited.
“I heard,” she said before he could tell her about Rowen staying.
They said nothing as they headed outside. Mason locked the door behind him and started toward his car.
“I’ll take you,” Ferne offered.
Mason altered his steps and climbed into the passenger side of her Mini.
“That was quite a storm we had a little while ago,” Ferne said to break the silence as she drove. “We get a lot of those. It rains often, but not usually for long periods of time.”
“We got caught in it.” Mason had no idea why he’d told his sister that. He kept his gaze out the window, watching the passing scenery while imagining Rowen twirling in the rain.
Ferne turned down the radio until the music was barely audible. “It’s okay for you to find someone to be with, you know. When was your last real relationship since Madeline?”
“Madeline and I only dated for three weeks when Mum and Dad died. I wouldn’t call that a relationship.”
“She did. She was devastated when you called it off.”
He shrugged, uncaring. “She was a nice girl, but if I had felt something for her, I wouldn’t have ended it.”
“And since?”
“You make it sound as if I’ve been alone. I haven’t. I’ve gone on dates.”
Ferne snorted a laugh. “You’ve never had a problem finding women, Mas. They fall all over you.”
“Because of the title. They never see me.”
There was a long pause before Ferne said, “You never let anyone close enough to find out who you really are.”
He swiveled his head to her. “The moment I suspected our parents were murdered, I knew I couldn’t bring anyone else into the family until things were straightened out.”
“That’s an excuse, and you know it,” she stated angrily, not backing down.
Mason ran a hand over his face and focused his gaze out the windscreen. “We kissed.”
“Who?” Ferne asked as she glanced over at him. “You mean you and Rowen? That’s good, isn’t it?”
Was it good? He had thought so at first, but now he couldn’t unsee the remorse. “She knew me, not the titled, wealthy lord. She had no idea who I was when she helped me.”
“I knew there was something between you,” Ferne said excitedly. “We’ve all seen it.”
There was a smile in her voice, a thread of eagerness that made the pain of Rowen’s guilt even worse.
“I interrupted the kiss, didn’t I?” Ferne’s voice was soft, apologetic.
Mason nodded as Ferne slowed and turned onto a street.
“That explains your irritation, but not the sadness.”
He blew out a breath and wished he hadn’t said anything to her. “Forget it.”
She pulled alongside the curb and turned off the ignition before looking at him. “Can’t do that. Tell me what happened.”
“She regretted it.”
“I don’t believe that. I’ve seen the way she looks at you.”
Mason threw open the door and got out. “Trust me. I know what I saw. Hard to mistake such a look.”
“I’m so sorry, Mas,” she said as she exited and faced him.
“Don’t,” he told her. “Just drop it. I don’t want to talk about it anymore. With you or anyone else, so don’t speak of it again.”
Ferne’s green eyes held his for a long minute. “Okay.”
“Good. Now, which one is Kirsi’s house?”
Ferne directed him to the home of Matt and Nora Brown.
It was nestled along a narrow, winding lane just off the village green.
Constructed from stone and whitewashed harling, the exterior was simple but solid.
It had been weathered by years of salt air and rain.
The slate roof was dark and uneven in a few places, with a thin chimney protruding.
He noted the deep-set, small-paned windows that graced the older homes on Skye.
He had learned they had been designed to retain heat and keep the wind out.
A wooden front door painted a muted green stood open as people came and went.
The narrow entryway had worn wooden floors.
The low-beamed ceiling forced him to duck so as not to bonk his head.
The house was packed with people. Ferne meandered into the compact kitchen with open shelves and original, meticulously cared-for cabinetry.
Mason recognized a few faces and nodded in greeting. He found Matt Brown at a table with Kirsi standing behind him, both looking lost and grief-stricken. He and Ferne had been there once. It had been hell to climb out of. He empathized with the road they had before them, but they wouldn’t be alone.
Ferne touched his arm to get his attention and began more introductions.
After about ten minutes, he noticed Callum standing in a corner, his gaze never leaving Kirsi.
Callum kept emotion from his face, but that didn’t stop Mason from seeing the truth.
A man didn’t look at a woman like that if he wasn’t in love with her.
Mason glanced to the side, expecting to find Rowen. He remembered then that she had remained at the cottage. It felt wrong to be there without her. As if, somehow, in the days they had been thrown together, their fates had become forever entwined.
He rubbed his thumb over the pads of his fingers, recalling the feel of her skin.
And craving more.