“Why would ye care if I drowned or not?”
“Because I’m not a monster who wishes people dead.”
“Even people ye dinna know?”
“Especially people I don’t know and besides…” She jerked an irritated shrug. “For some inexplicable reason, and don’t think I’m crazy, but I feel like I know you.”
Unable to stop himself, he cupped her face in his hand and gently stroked her cheek with his thumb. “I feel as though I know ye as well, lass.” A heavy sigh escaped him, and he slowly shook his head. “But I am not good at polite conversation when all I wish to do is take ye in my arms and hold ye.”
Even though a leeriness shouted from her, she didn’t step away and remove herself from his touch. “I don’t do one-nighters,” she said, “and I also don’t do permanent.”
He longed to pull her closer and change her mind, but instinct stayed his hand. He would not force the mate bond. Deep inside, he needed her to choose him because she wanted him. “Then pray tell me, lass—what do ye do?”
Chapter
Five
Even though she ached to dive into his arms and take him up on his offer, Calia remained locked in place. All the pain, all the suffering of her past refused to let her move. The touch of his warm, calloused hand unnerved her. She wanted to close her eyes and sink into the exquisite feel of connecting with another. But she couldn’t. If she yielded to physical wants and needs, it would only bring disaster. “I don’t know what I do when my wants are at odds with my convictions.”
He smiled, which didn’t help because that lopsided smirk of his made him more endearing. “Trust me, lass. I’ll not hurt ye.”
“The last time I trusted a man, I got pregnant, and then he left my daughter and me when she got sick.” The marriage hadn’t been all that great to begin with, but when he had abandoned little Gillian, too, Calia had found that unforgivable and impossible to overcome. “He hurt my baby. I don’t know that I’m capable of trusting anyone anymore.”
“Tell me his name, and I will hunt him down and make him pay.”
Something in Mathison’s eyes warned that her ex would not survive that encounter. She had looked into the eyes of many a predator before and recognized that same icy resolution. “He’s not worth the effort. Trust me, I made him pay in the divorce settlement.”
“I will always protect ye, lass, even though ye can protect yerself. I swear it.”
As impossibly chivalrous as that sounded, it still shot a thrill through her and warmed her heart. No one had ever sworn to protect her before. “What century are you from, Mathison Shadowmist?”
Both his brows shot higher. “What?”
If she didn’t know better, she detected the distinct smell of panic. She gently took his hand, removed it from her cheek, and held it a moment before awkwardly releasing it. “You are a rare man. They don’t make men like you anymore.”
He visibly relaxed, making her wonder why. “That is a good thing, aye?” His sexy grin returned.
She nodded, then eyed the rain-soaked windows once again. “Don’t leave in this rainstorm. Please? I wouldn’t feel right about it.” And for some reason, the thought of him leaving her alone bothered her even though she’d never minded being alone before.
A gust of wind rattled the doors, soaking them with another onslaught of water. Lightning lit up the sky, and a deafening thunderclap followed. The storm seemed powered by a phenomenal force determined to dig in and hold on for as long as possible. It had to be an unexpected front coming in that she hadn’t heard about on the morning news.
Otto whined and leaned against her leg. She rubbed his ears. “Shh…it’s going to be all right.” She hoped the dog believed her because things hadn’t been all right for her in a very long time.
“Please stay,” she repeated to Mathison. “I know the couch is a little short for a man of your height, but surely it wouldn’t be too uncomfortable.”
“I have slept in worse places.” He reached out and touched the streak of her hair that had gone white with worry when Gillian had been diagnosed with cancer. “Power.”
“What?”
“This strip of white hair symbolizes power. Power and purity. Ye are more powerful than ye know.”
She combed her fingers through the strand, slipping the silvery-white section out of his grasp and tucking it behind her ear. If he kept touching her, and they remained this close, she’d need all the power she could find to remain strong against the yearning to kiss him until they fell into a writhing pile of bad decisions in the middle of the living room floor. “Let’s have a seat, and you can tell me more about yourself.”
He jutted his chin higher as if challenged by the suggestion. “What would ye care to know?” he asked as he meandered back to the overstuffed chair next to the couch. The way Mathison sat in that chair reminded her of some medieval warrior king sitting on his throne. She blinked away the thought and tried to ignore the aching loneliness within her.
Plopping down on the end of the couch, she tucked her feet up under her. Otto once again took refuge against her. Poor puppy hated storms so very much. She hugged him close and reassured him until he finally relaxed and rested his head in her lap. Idly rubbing the pup’s ears, she smiled at Mathison. “What do you do?”
“Do?”
