“I didn’t want to think about it, but I kept wondering if there would be divorce papers delivered,” I admit.
“Not ever,” he says decisively, striding over to me. “We’re together for life and beyond if I have anything to say about it.”
He kisses me with a deeply satisfying amount of passion, and I’m a little unsteady by the time he lifts his head. “We’ll have time for a full tour tomorrow,” he says, taking my hand, “but there is one place I want to show ya tonight.”
We climb the stairs to the second floor, and then through a stone archway, I see the steps circle to the top of… “The turret,” I whisper reverently. There are beautifully framed pictures on the walls and as we climb, I realize they’re mine. Images from the ocean when Kai taught me how to pilot a boat. A couple of me with the girls, silly selfies we took while wedding dress shopping. One that makes me blush, of Kai making me dinner in the background while I’m grinning like a fool at the camera. I loved that shot because the light streaming through the window highlighted his sculpted face and his sexy, tattooed hands deftly slicing a tomato.
“Let me guess, the secured iCloud account you created for me?”
He gives me a shameless smile.
At the top of the stairs, I clutch his hand. The magnificent king-sized bed has four tall wooden pillars, draped at the top in filmy white cloth like the curtains. There’s a big vase of blush-colored peonies, like we had at the wedding, sitting on the bedside table.
“The window bench…” I whisper, hurrying over to sit on it.
“I started off the bookshelves with some from our collection at the townhouse, but I will tell ya that Glasgow has more bookstores than any other city in Scotland.” Kai sits next to me. “This is a grand view of the ocean.”
“I don’t know what to say,” I whisper. “This is all so perfect.”
“I’m glad.” He cups my face in his lovely, calloused hands. “We’re building our life together. This is just the first step, but it should be a perfect one.”
“This issoperfect,” I babble, kissing and kissing him. “So beyond perfect.”
“Now, my bride, I would like ya to freshen up and meet me downstairs, aye?” The spark in his greener than green eyes sends a jolt through me.
The mask.
With a little girlish noise that is just so embarrassing, I watch him head back down the stairs, whistling.
I wash my face and put my hair up in a high ponytail, walking down the spiraling steps to… I don’t know what, but my heart is pounding like a triphammer, and my mouth is dry. Something is swirling in my core, an energy that’s reminiscent of the chase through the woods on Morren Island but without the dread.
Anticipation?
There’s a note on the kitchen counter with a pair of running shoes.
Take off your dress. Put these on.
The zipper on my wedding gown is tricky, but I manage it, carefully hanging it on a chair. I feel a little silly putting on sneakers with my lacy, thigh-high stockings and bridal lingerie, though that swirling sense of expectation with a dash of fear is stronger.
There’s another note on the table in the greenhouse.
It’s time to run, little fox.
A huge boom rattles the greenhouse windows, a sound that a baseball bat slamming against something metal might make.
And Irun.
Kai…
Looking up at the moon, I take a deep breath. Fuck, I’ve wanted this. I see her read the note in the greenhouse, lit up like she’s on a stage, ready to make her debut. I slam my bat against one of the metal flower planters, and she startles, eyes wide.
She tears out the back door of the greenhouse and streaks toward the forest. I hear the snap of twigs underfoot, and she’s out of sight in a flash.
I’ve changed into a pair of jeans, no shirt and the night air feels good on my skin. This time, I welcome the feeling of madness, the feral sense of my darker self surging to the forefront, all the savagery I keep under control. I hated myself for letting it run free on the island, feeling no better than those rich fucks.
Ach, but here… I hear the soft call of the owls and the waves crashing on the beach, the scent of moss and the pine trees, and my cock is harder than it’s ever been. I adjust it in my jeans with a groan and check my watch. It’s been fifteen minutes.
Time to play.
