by Rosanna Leo
Damn. She hadn’t slept. He’d revealed too much too soon. He’d handed her an enormous burden, and she couldn’t absorb it. If only she’d let him help her.
“Um,” she began, her voice cracking, “would you like to come in?”
He nodded and walked over. Mack followed her into the little house, his heart heavy. A part of him had hoped that shifting for Beth would lighten her mood, perhaps give her something to dwell on other than her grief, but it seemed to do the opposite. It seemed to have made the divide between them insurmountable.
She was so unhappy. And she was keeping it all cooped up inside her. It was amazing she didn’t burst. It would kill her if she didn’t let it out. He didn’t think he’d ever known such sadness.
That wasn’t quite true. Grief had consumed him when he’d lost Anne all those years ago. He’d been devastated and it had taken him decades before her image stopped haunting him. He couldn’t blame Beth for still mourning. Like anyone who’d lost, she’d always grieve in some way.
He looked around the living room, setting his weapons on the couch as she scurried into the kitchen to make tea. There were photos of Frank and Luke everywhere. He approached the largest, an 8x11-inch picture sitting on the mantel. Frank had Luke, a sweet little boy with brown eyes, tossed over his shoulder. The boy’s mouth was wide open in glee, missing one of his front teeth. Adorable. And Beth was smiling on Luke’s other side, her arms open in case he fell. A good mother. She looked so happy.
The perfect family, wrenched apart by tragedy.
He looked over at Beth as she stirred sugar into a teacup at the kitchen counter, her face wrinkled in pain. She looked so different from how she looked in the photo. Then, she’d been carefree and glad. Now, she broke his heart.
All of a sudden, Mack realized he would do just about anything to put the rapture back in her eyes, the easy smile on her face.
She surprised him by dropping her teaspoon on the counter. For a moment, she just stared at the spoon as it wobbled. Then she lifted her trembling hands up to her face, and she began to make strangled noises, noises that insisted on being let out.
Thank the gods. It’s about time she lets it out.
“Oh, God, what’s happening to me?”
Her shoulders heaved for just a second before he was at her side. Mack enfolded her in his arms and let her cry herself out. He held her tight, tighter than he’d ever held anyone, and prayed he could absorb some of her pain.
“Don’t hold back, lass,” he whispered. “It needs to come out.”
When her tremors subsided a good thirty minutes later, she looked up at him with a tear-stained face. “I can’t move on, Mack. I’m stuck.”
He brushed a hair from her eyes. “I’m sure it must feel that way.”
“No, you don’t understand. They were ripped from me.” She sucked in some air, her chest rising with halted breaths. “Frank had a small boat. He loved sailing, and he adored taking Luke out on the water. The day they died, I was trying to finish some work. Luke kept getting in my way. He wanted to play, and I told him I couldn’t. My students were in the middle of music exams, and I had deadlines. Luke pushed and fussed. I finally asked Frank to take him out on the boat to distract him.”
“Oh, Beth,” he began, seeing where she was headed. Bile flavored his saliva, he felt so sick for her.
She continued, “When they went outside, the day was clear. There wasn’t one cloud out. All of a sudden a huge storm whipped up. I could see it from the house, could see the little boat flounder.” She smacked her palm against her forehead, as pain racked her fragile spirit. “My family was lost out there. I never got them back. I lost my baby to the sea!”
“Beth, I’m so sorry…”
“Luke was just five. He must have been so scared. When I think of how he must have cried… I sent them to their deaths.”
As he envisioned the terrible scene and realized her savage guilt, Mack almost wept for her. The only reason he didn’t was because he was fighting to be strong. As he held her, he allowed his gaze to wander back to the photo of Luke on the mantelpiece and said a silent prayer that the wee tyke and his father had passed away quickly and without pain. “It’s not your fault they died. It was a freak storm, love. You wouldn’t have known it was coming.”
“I should have known. I should have been more patient with my son.”
It was then the terrible thought hit him like an unfeeling brick in the face. “You said the storm came out of nowhere?”
She nodded, wiping at her eyes.
Mack eyed the finman charm, still around her neck.
Beth’s eyes widened. She touched the charm. With the halted breaths of an injured yet determined animal, her eyes taking on a feral shine, she fumbled at her neck for the clasp on the necklace. She tore it from her neck, ran to the fireplace, and threw it into the pit of ash. “You said finmen control weather. Tell me. Do you think that bastard caused the storm that killed my family?”
Mack gave a slow nod. “He’s probably had his eye on you for some time. A finman wouldn’t think twice about eliminating obstacles.” Damn that bastard to hell. “You didn’t kill your family, sweetheart. He did.”
“Oh, why them?” she whispered from behind the shaking hand that was over her mouth. “Why me?”
Mack let his gaze rake over her from top to bottom. Swelling hips that called to him. Gorgeous breasts that would spill with such ease into his hand. Soft skin that invited one to touch. And pretty eyes that revealed the depths of her soul. She’d seen so much she didn’t need to see. “You’re a beautiful woman, Beth. And a caring one. My guess is the finman is someone you’ve known. Someone to whom you’ve shown kindness.” He shook his head, furious at the situation. “It could be the old lady who checks out your books at the library, the supermarket clerk, or he might even be masquerading as your friend.”
Her hands fell to her sides and her shoulders drooped. “What do I do?”
Mack drew closer. “I doubt he’ll try again right now. Not when he knows we’re onto him. He’ll try when he thinks we’ve let our guard down.” He reached for her hands again, wanting to have some sort of physical contact. Anything. He pulled her to him and she didn’t resist. “We’ll work on selling these antiques, and we’ll be vigilant. And I won’t let you out of my sight. I won’t let him have you, lass.”
Beth moved her closer to him, farther into his embrace. He didn’t mind. “I don’t understand why you’re doing this for me.”
He gazed at her, more rapt than he cared to be. “I’m still figuring that out myself.”
“Machar,” she said, whispering his name. Her lips fell open.
Enflamed, Mack had no choice but to kiss her. Before he convinced himself it was a bad idea, he grazed his lips against hers, and fought the hunger inside. The desire screaming at him to take her. Instead, just knowing she needed a little softness and sweetness in her life, Mack gave it to her in the form of the gentlest kiss he’d ever bestowed on any woman. Easing his mouth into hers, he slipped his tongue between her lips and was astounded at how much her taste appealed to him. She tasted like a bonbon, like a Christmas sugarplum. He swallowed between kisses, knowing each kiss was growing more fevered, and savored her. And then his lips met hers again in an embrace that was more urgent than the first. He grasped her face, holding her close. She reached up and ran her fingers through his hair.
Something in their souls met and connected.
Fuck. I could drink this woman’s essence all day long. She’s nectar.
As his mind raced, his body responded with a vicious heat. Every inch of him seemed alive for the first time, enthralled by her touch. He couldn’t seem to hold her close enough, couldn’t seem to absorb her quickly enough. He wanted the taste of her all over him, wanted to nuzzle her in places he hadn’t seen yet. Wanted to lick every last part of her. Mack knew in that moment that something new was happening to him. He’d never reacted like this to any woman’s kiss. Not Leda, not even his beloved
Anne.
Beth was different, and he didn’t want the kiss to end.
He angled his head so he could kiss her more deeply, as if he could get deeper, and was cognizant of a loud bong inside his head. He was pretty sure his inner Big Ben had just gone off again and had an image of the clock hands spinning, with smoke coming off the clock face.
Christ on a bike. Could it be this woman was his mate?
Somewhere deep inside him, a peg slipped into a hole. A cog turned in the machinery. Everything that had been off-kilter in Mack slid into place. Perfect alignment. Everything made sense. Old men were jigging and young girls were dancing around maypoles, tossing wildflowers in the air.
The fucking universe was at peace.
They fell apart on another frantic snatch at a breath, and her sigh poured over him in a warm, sweet breath. “Please, Mack,” she whispered. “Please make me feel something other than pain.”
Yes. His mind reeled with the need to heal her, to love her, to take her away from everything that had hurt her. “Give your pain to me, love. I can take it. Let me make you feel better.”
She extricated herself from his arms only long enough to rip the shirt from over her head, and then she flew back into his arms. Mack enfolded her in his grip and sought out her mouth. It was open and hungry for him, as his was for her. As he explored her plump lips and the softness between them, he allowed his hand to cup her breast. He had to hold back from grunting his delight. She felt exquisite in his hand, just as he’d suspected she would feel. His fingernail scraped at her stiff nipple through the fabric of her bra and a cry erupted from the back of her throat.
“You like that?” he murmured, smiling against her mouth.
“Do it again.”
She didn’t need to ask him twice. Mack scratched at her nipple, always over her bra so as not to scrape her skin, and she arched against him. His cock hammered against her belly, and he couldn’t think straight for wanting her so much. She was so responsive to his touch, almost as if she’d been waiting for it all her life. And he felt the same. Something in him had been waiting for Beth to arrive, and he felt giddy and delirious at being able to hold her.
Desire whipped at him, its lashes biting into his skin, branding him with her scent and flavor. He needed more of her, so much more. Mack pulled down on the cup of her bra and exposed her breast. He took a moment to admire its loveliness, thumbing the swollen nipple, and then lowered his head.
Upon claiming her breast with his mouth, Beth moaned like a mad woman in an asylum. He worried for a second that his eager lips and tongue had hurt her, but then he realized she was as transported as he was. Her eyes were wild and bright, and she held him close to her breast.
“More,” she begged. “Bite me. Let me feel your teeth.”
Mack couldn’t respond, could only nod. There was a very naughty side to Beth, one that had been hiding for some time, perhaps always. He’d brought it out in her and was heady with the knowledge.
He made her want. He made her cry out in pleasure. Her demand to be bitten made the animal in him roar with longing. Oh, to sink his teeth into her, to mark her as his own! He closed his lips around her nipple once more and sucked hard.
All at once, a terrible rumbling noise outside tore Mack’s greedy mouth away from Beth’s skin. They pulled apart, both shocked by the deafening sound. Beth adjusted her bra and reached for her shirt, throwing it on. Mack grabbed her to him. There was something in that cacophony that was unnatural, evil, and he wouldn’t let it touch the woman in his arms. Especially not now that he suspected her of being the mother to his unborn pups and light of his blasted life.
From inside, they watched as the sky outside turned an ominous black. Lightning streaks chased each other across the sky and a fierce wind whipped up, shaking the evergreens in Beth’s yard. In a matter of seconds, the wind grew so intense it began to pound against the windows.
Beth clutched at his shirt, her face pale. “Is it him?”
Mack frowned at the window. “The finman shit? I’d say so.”
The windows quaked so hard they appeared concave for brief seconds. The howling outside seemed to infiltrate each entry into the house, making it seem as if the wind was all around them. A fearsome thunder crack sounded. Just as Mack hurled Beth to the floor and covered her with his own body, the windows blew in, sending shards of glass all over the living room. The screeching sound that accompanied the blast was tinged with inhumanity and fury.
They huddled on the floor for a few moments, and the wind began to die down. Keeping Beth sheltered by his body, Mack turned to inspect the scene. There was debris and glass everywhere, but at least the sky was lightening once more, and the horrific howling had disappeared. He got up and helped a shocked Beth to her feet, carefully brushing bits of glass from her sleeves.
When they saw what was in the middle of the living room floor, Beth uttered a cry.
The picture from the mantel, the one of her and her former family, had fallen to the floor. It was smashed beyond recognition, with pieces of glass and frame everywhere. The photo itself was torn to pieces.
As if an angry person had shredded it by hand.
Beth reached for the scraps of the photo and pulled out a piece that bore half of her son’s face. With aching slowness, she turned to Mack, clutching the torn memento. “Why do you hunt this bastard?”
“Because he destroyed something, someone, that meant so much to me.”
“The same finman who gave me the charm?”
“Yes. I’d know him anywhere.”
“And you still want revenge?”
He stared at her, noticing a new hardness glinting in her eyes. “With all my heart. I want him dead. For that and for what he’s doing to you.”
“So do I.” She returned his gaze, her chin high. “I want to hunt him with you, Mack. I want to help you.”
As her words and desperate desires resonated within him, Mack despaired. As much as he wanted to see Beth fulfill her own vendetta, he needed to do all he could to keep her from the finman, not let her near him. Especially not now he knew the truth.
Calan said it would only take a kiss or the scent of her. He’d been right. Beth was his mate.
Now he just had to somehow let the widow know. And keep her safe from harm.
Chapter 8
“I can’t do that, Beth,” Mack said. “I can’t make a hunter of you.”
“Why not? Because I’m a woman?”
No, because you’re my woman. Mack struggled for words that wouldn’t make him sound like a stalker. “It has nothing to do with your sex. Believe me, I’ve known many a formidable selkie woman. You should meet my mother. She looks like a fairy princess, but she could send a man twice her size flying across the room.”
“Because I’m not selkie then?”
He touched her lips, tracing the line of them with his thumb, and fought the urge to smash his lips against hers again. “That’s partly it. Love, you’re mortal. I can’t expose you to such danger.”
“But you’d be with me.”
I’ll always be with you. “It doesn’t matter, Beth.” He gestured around the glass-littered room. “Look what the evil shit did to your home! This is an unstable creature with tremendous power. I’m not letting you anywhere near him and that’s final.”
She pulled out of his arms, her movements jerky and angry. Even still, there was a softness in her eyes that belied her feelings. Machar could see there was a part of her that was glad of his protective nature. Good, because he wasn’t about to curb it.
Even standing so close to her, Mack needed to be in contact with her. His heartbeat skipped at being deprived of her touch, so he reached for her hand and smoothed his fingers over her soft skin. There. Better. His pulse regulated once more. He’d have to talk with his brothers about this sensation that he’d die if he didn’t get to touch his mate. Every time she wasn’t in his arms, he felt ready to have a conniption. How was he supposed to explain it? Beth, love. You’r
e my intended mate. How about we give it a go? Fancy being a selkie? It made him sound daft. No better than a finman, just nicer manners.
She turned toward him, her pupils dilated, her lips moist and open. She felt it too. “W-what do we do then?”
“I’m going to take you to the safest place I know. My parents’ house. I’ll feel better knowing you have other selkies around you while I hunt this bastard. You’ll be protected there.” It was true. Once his family knew the truth about his feelings for Beth, they’d move heaven and earth to keep her free from harm. His brothers might rib him about the mating business, but once the deal was sealed, they’d welcome Beth with open arms as they did with Elsie and Maggie.
Her eyes widened. “You want me to stay with your family? I’m a stranger!”
Mack grinned. “Trust me. They won’t see you that way. My mother will be so happy to have another lass in the house. She’ll be beside herself. She’ll spend all day cooking for you.” He ran a hand down her delicate arm. “I rather like the idea.”
She frowned and pulled away, making his heart hitch again. “Right. We all know you think I’m too skinny. No need to rub it in.”
He pulled her back. “Woman, I think you’re bloody perfect, but don’t think I don’t notice when you skip meals. I need you to be healthy.”
“Why do you need it so badly?”
Because I want you around for a long time. Because I want you to be strong so I can love you into the wee hours. Because I’m afraid if I hold you like I want to hold you, I’ll crack you open. Mack swallowed. “I just do.” He took a deep breath to clear his head. “Let’s pack up some clothes for you.”
Beth stood still as he moved. “I can’t go.”
“And why not?”
“I can’t just drop everything in my life, Mack.” She raised her hands and let them drop again in frustration. “Besides, I have a music lesson later today.”
