Mason made a noise – half groan, half laugh – and took the kiss deeper.
When a horn blasted behind them, they finally broke apart.
“If you keep that up,” he murmured, putting some distance between them – though he did keep hold of her hand – “we may not even make it to Savannah.”
So, he had been telling the truth. Though why he felt that that required a blindfold – she’d been to the city so many times that she knew the route there like the back of her hand – still made no sense to her.
Oh well. It was odd, and she did feel silly, but nothing ventured, she guessed.
The only real downside was that she couldn’t appreciate the sight of a very hot man driving a sporty little car.
They chatted about neutral subjects for the next few minutes, until Mason said “Ah. Here we are.”
He turned off the engine.
“Can I take the blindfold off now?”
“No, you may not.”
She heard his door open, and figured it was in her best interest not to attempt to climb out on her own. She’d probably do a face plant.
There was another slamming sound, which Allie took to be Mason retrieving their bags from the trunk. The door opened beside her, and Mason leaned in to unbuckle her seat belt, then took a firm grip on her hand. “Watch your step now.”
“You do realize that in expecting me to walk – blindfolded, in high heeled wedges – through unknown terrain, you’re asking for me to twist an ankle.”
“You’re right.”
Allie could have been offended that he’d agreed so readily, but the fact was that years of ribbing at the hands of her brothers had pretty much desensitized her to aspersions cast on her coordination . But anyway, before she knew what was happening, Mason had swept her off her feet. Literally.
“You can’t carry the bags and me, too.”
“Are you impugning my masculinity?”
“No, but I might be questioning your sanity. Are there people around?” she murmured. “Because I’m going to feel like an idiot if anyone sees me like this.”
“We’ll tell them that you had your eyes examined today. Silver nitrate and all.”
“Call me crazy, but I think that sunglasses would be a less dramatic solution.”
“Well, unfortunately you broke your sunglasses when you tripped – on account of not being able to see due to the silver nitrate solution – and tumbled down the hill. Which is also when you injured your ankle. Hence, the reason for your inability to walk.”
“So I’m basically like Jill – of Jack and Jill fame – on crack.”
“Jill on silver nitrate. Let’s keep our story straight.”
Allie laughed, suddenly not caring how big of an idiot she appeared to other people. And it wasn’t like the female half of the population would even notice her anyway. Not with Mason looking the way he looked.
Still smiling, she laid her head against his warm, firm shoulder. “I hope you don’t have to carry me much further. Not that I object.”
“Nor do I. Object that is. But I’m going to sit you down now. I think it might be best if you navigated this next part on your own two feet.”
He put her down, but kept her turned toward him. “Ready?” he asked.
“Ready.”
Mason kissed her, a soft peck, and then carefully untied her blindfold. One benefit to being with an actor, she guessed, was that they understood about messing up the hair – especially since she’d had to style it carefully to cover up the shaved spot.
“Okay,” he said, and hands on her shoulders, he turned her around.
Allie blinked. “A sailboat?”
“Gorgeous, isn’t she?”
It – she – really was. One of the all teak varieties, the exterior gleamed like highly polished amber. The sun, which had just begun its downward western arc, painted the gathering clouds with faint watercolor strokes of orange and pink, reflecting off the glass windows of the cabin. It was one of those photo-worthy moments, the kind that made you simply stand and marvel at the beauty you so often took for granted.
She glanced over at Mason, who was grinning toward the boat with such open delight that she decided the blindfold had totally been worth it. The sun had nothing on him.
“It’s lovely.”
“My grandfather had one. A teak sailboat, I mean. A thirty foot John Hanna Tahiti Ketch. Nineteen-fifty-seven, I believe. I loved that boat.”
“You’re an experienced sailor, then?”
“More of an experienced first mate. It’s been years, though.” His voice was wistful, but then he looked down at her with a smile. “But don’t worry. I won’t be at the helm tonight. Aside from the issue of licensing, I want to be able to focus on you, not on navigating through no wake zones. Ah, Sarah’s brother – Noah – he put me in touch with a friend of his who does private charters. I believe that’s him now.”
Allie glanced over to where an older black man with very short salt and pepper hair and a military bearing was walking up the dock toward them.
“Armitage,” he smiled, pumping Mason’s hand. “Good to see you again. And you must be Allison.”
He turned dark chocolate eyes, surrounded by lines and filled with good humor, her way.
“I am. It’s a pleasure to meet you…”
“Well, in another life, I went by Senior Chief Boone. But since I retired from the Navy and restored this old tub, most people around here just call me Captain Joe.”
“Captain Joe.” She took his hand. She could already tell that she was going to like him immensely. “Given that illustrious record, I feel safe in your hands.”
“I’ll do my best not to run us up on a sandbar. Here, let me take those bags from you.” When he’d shouldered their luggage, he extended his arm toward the dock. “Shall we embark?”
“By all means.” Mason looked as giddy as a little boy. Charmed, she squeezed his hand as they boarded.
He grinned down at her, and her stomach did a little flip which had nothing whatsoever to do with the fact that they were leaving solid land behind them.
“This is David,” he said, introducing his sole crew member. “He’s going to stow your bags, and then he’ll be available to carry out any requests you may have. While he does that, I wanted to go over a few safety precautions. There are life vests here,” he showed them where they were stored. “Should you not be able to get to one for any reason, the cushions here also double as a flotation device. And now that I’ve either laid your fears to rest, or perhaps alarmed you, I’m going to leave you two while I get this tub started. I think you’ll find the cabin set up to your specifications,” he told Mason, “but if you have any questions or you need anything, just let David know.”
“Thank you.”
Mason gestured for Allie to precede him down the steps into the cabin. More teak gleamed, in the form of built-in, cushioned banquettes that served as seating in both the living and the dining areas. A short passageway led to what Allie gathered was the bedroom and the head. Glancing around, she saw an ice bucket from which protruded the neck of a bottle – champagne, if the glasses on the table were any indication. The table was also set with white linen and fine china, and lorded over by a vase practically bursting with roses.
Tears misted Allie’s eyes.
“I looked at a number of restaurants,” he said as he slipped his arms around her waist from behind. “And while Savannah has any number of excellent dining establishments, I found that I didn’t relish the idea of sharing dinner – this dinner, anyway – with you and a hundred others. I had dinner catered, which means that I took the liberty, again, of ordering for you. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Mind?” Was he insane? “I’m…” overwhelmed seemed inadequate. Blown away was more like it.
“While you search for the appropriate adjective,” he kissed the side of her neck, making her shiver “shall I pour us a drink? Non-alcoholic, of course.”
“Mason.” She stopped h
im by grabbing his hand.
He looked down at her, brows raised in question.
“Moved,” she told him. “I’m deeply moved. I would say that you didn’t need to go to all this trouble, but that would undermine my pleasure in the fact that you did. Thank you.” She stretched up onto her toes and kissed him. “Everything is just lovely.”
His eyes lit with pleasure as he searched her face. “It certainly is.”
He kissed her again, this time with more heat. Her hands slid up his chest, the fine cotton twill of his shirt soft over hard muscles, and one of his hands curved around her butt, bringing her flush against him.
Allie gasped. His chest wasn’t the only thing that was hard.
“Mmm.” Placing both hands on her waist, Mason forcibly set her away from him. His eyes were narrowed, and dark with desire. “If I start kissing you in earnest now, I’m afraid that we’ll miss dinner entirely.”
“I wouldn’t mind,” she heard herself whisper.
Mason closed his eyes. He laughed, though it sounded more like pain than amusement. “While you’re very good for my ego, you’re hell on my self-restraint. Now.” Deliberately, he walked toward the ice bucket. “Can I interest you in a drink? I believe dinner will be served in,” he checked his watch “ten minutes.”
Allie took a deep breath. She was torn between feeling frustrated and feeling flattered.
“That would be great,” she told him.
They chatted about inconsequential things until David, in the role of porter, brought in the salad course.
“Caprese,” she said, delighted. Then she arched a brow at Mason. “Okay, spill. Who’d you consult?”
“Consult? Oh, fine,” he said when he saw that she wasn’t buying it. “If you must know, at the barest hint of a request from me for input, Sarah essentially mugged me with a list of dos and do nots. Apparently she secretly believes I’m an imbecile, as hapless where you’re concerned as a toddler playing in traffic.”
Allie bit back a smile at the image of Mason being subjected to a crash course in Dating Allie 101.
“You’re laughing at me.”
“No. Maybe a little.” He was adorable when he sniffed like that. So very British. “But just so you know, the fact that you were willing to put up with that is very good for my ego.”
He dabbed at the corner of his mouth with the napkin. “I suppose that makes it worth the fact that Sarah said bless your heart more than once during our discussion.”
After David cleared their dinner plates, Mason leaned back in his seat, eyeing her over the rim of his glass. Gooseflesh prickled along her arms. He looked… intent.
“I hope you don’t mind that I’ve saved dessert for… later.”
Oh boy.
“Not at all,” Allie said, picturing some very interesting parts of Mason’s body drenched in chocolate.
“Good.” He glanced at his watch again. “We should be arriving soon. Before we do, I wanted to say that I hope tonight has been – and will continue to be – a pleasant distraction. But I don’t want you to think that I’m completely brushing your situation under the rug. Your brother has been keeping me abreast of developments as much as he can, but… how are you faring, Allison? The worst of the physical trauma might be gone, but I know, from having experienced it myself, that the emotional… residue from having been violently attacked takes a good deal longer to go away.”
It could have, maybe should have, changed the tenor of the evening, having the reminder of violence brought into the middle of, as Mason inadequately described it, a pleasant distraction.
But Allie understood that Mason wasn’t just after physical intimacy this evening. He – remarkably enough – wanted emotional intimacy as well. And the fact that he’d been through an experience in several ways similar to her own made him a good sounding board.
“I’m fine. Mostly fine,” she qualified. “I’ve had a few bad moments, more than a few bad dreams. But logically, I know that I’m as safe as I can be for now. The evidence suggests that theft was the motive for… the assault.” Allie swallowed. “And given the car I drove, who my family is, it makes sense that I would be a target.”
That smell though, the smell of decay, damp stone and her own blood seemed like it would stay with her forever.
Mason reached across the table, squeezed her hand. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to distress you.”
“No.” She shook her head. “You didn’t.”
Allie studied their joined hands – his large and long and elegantly masculine, hers almost ridiculously delicate by comparison. But she wasn’t quite as delicate as most people – including herself – had always believed. She’d withstood quite a bit in the past few years, some of it intensely painful. But she had withstood it and was a stronger person for having done so.
Allie glanced up. She hadn’t intended to tell Mason about the flowers, what they meant, but she felt that keeping it from him at this point seemed… cowardly.
“You know that I was in the cemetery that afternoon delivering flowers to Eugene Hawbaker’s grave. Flowers that I’d received that morning.”
“From your former fiancé,” Mason said, not hiding his displeasure.
“I thought so, at the time, but now… I’m not so sure.”
“I don’t understand. Wasn’t there a card?”
“There was, but it wasn’t signed. However, it… the message made me think it was from Wesley, because it… hinted at information that, aside from myself, only a couple other people had – Wesley being one of them. The night at Stage Left, the night you punched him?”
“I believe I recall the event.”
Allie smiled at his droll tone, but it faded quickly. “That night, Wesley grabbed me because I caught him off guard. He was… flirting with me, for lack of a better word, talking about the good times we had together, and did I ever think about them.” Allie took a deep breath, forced herself to meet Mason’s patient gaze. “So, I told him sure, I thought about them. And I also told him how I thought about the way he’d all but stood me up at the altar, and how I’d been so devastated, so distraught that I’d gone to Charleston to see Sarah, and that she – not Wesley – was the one who held my hand when I miscarried the baby that I’d been preparing to tell Wesley about at Christmas. I had a onesie with his law school alma mater on it already wrapped.”
Mason didn’t speak for several moments. “I’m only sorry I didn’t break his jaw when I had the opportunity.”
Unbelievably, Allie laughed. “I don’t know why, but that is the best thing you could have said.”
“I’m relieved to hear you say so. Darling.” He took her other hand in his, his eyes full of compassion. Not pity, but compassion. It made the words much easier to hear. “I know how inadequate it is, but I am so terribly sorry. I can’t imagine that sort of loss.”
“I was… a pretty big mess for a while,” she admitted. “It seemed like everything sort of piled on, all at once. But the reason I’m telling you this now is because Wesley came to see me. After I was attacked. He swore he had nothing to do with sending the flowers – which had come accompanied by a little card adorned with a teddy bear and offering congratulations. I thought it was his way of getting back at me for either not telling him originally, or telling him at an inopportune moment and causing a scene.” She shrugged. “But his denial was very convincing.”
“Wait a minute. You’re saying that someone sent you a bouquet, along with the sort of card one would send to a new parent?”
Allie swallowed, then nodded.
“That’s… bloody diabolical. What sort of depraved arsehole would… are you certain it wasn’t Norbert?”
The outrage so clearly stamped on his face made her feel a shade better. “Not certain, no. But after thinking it over, I don’t know what he would have stood to gain by doing it, and gain is Wesley’s chief motivator. He basically doesn’t act unless he thinks it will benefit him in some way. I probably should have considered that before I
leaped to conclusions.”
“But… who else would stand to gain by torturing you emotionally?”
“I don’t know.” And it was that thought, more than her assault, the fact that her property had been stolen, that kept waking her in the middle of the night. Being the victim of a violent theft was bad enough, but at least it didn’t seem so personal. This, however, was personal. Extremely so. “Will ran a search of the credit card that was used for the purchase,” she told him “and found that it had been stolen. The account owner was an elderly woman who hadn’t missed it yet.”
“Which still doesn’t help you determine who, or why. You’re certain no one else knows about your miscarriage?”
Allie shook her head. “Sarah wouldn’t have breathed a word. Will didn’t know until I told him, and I haven’t said anything to anyone else. Not even Bran, or Josie. I was in Charleston when it happened. The hospital staff whom I came into contact with knew, of course, but I can’t imagine any of them having either really twisted senses of humor or a personal vendetta against me.”
Mason’s lips pressed into a tight line. “Does Will believe that this is simply a coincidence? The emotional and physical attacks occurring almost simultaneously?”
“Will tends to keep his own counsel,” she said. “But from what he’s said, there’s no evidence to link the two things yet.”
“I’m not an officer of the law, but it strikes me as rather… implausible.”
It had struck Allie that way, too. “If there is a connection, Will will find it. He’s not one to leave a stone unturned, especially when it comes to his family.”
“I don’t like this,” Mason said.
“Nor do I. Believe me.” Allie pressed her fingers to her temple. She was developing a slight headache.
“I’m sorry,” Mason said, immediately contrite. “Apparently I am an imbecile, bringing this up this evening.”
“No,” Allie assured him. “This has been wonderful. You have been wonderful. And I’m glad that you asked. I think it’s just… have the waves gotten rougher in the past several minutes?” she asked, glancing around.
Admit One (Sweetwater Book 2) Page 21
