Riveted (Art of Eros #1) (13 page)

Chapter 12

They rode the elevator up to her floor still holding hands. The sexual tension hung between them like a petit thunderstorm. As much as she wanted Mac, she needed to tell him everything about her abuse. As things progressed, all her broken pieces would be revealed. If she got honest with herself then she needed to start getting honest with him. She needed to reveal her secret.

Her body was charged up by him but she was losing steam quickly, standing on a precipice of something bigger. She warred with herself on what to do, but decided to push through a bit to let things go wherever they were meant to go. Mac felt her detachment of being in her head but instead of calling her out on it, he let her go.

At her suite door, she turned into him, body to body. If she invited him in, he decided he needed to decline, claiming he needed to get some sleep. He refused to screw this up by having sex with her when she clearly wasn’t ready. It couldn’t be all about sex this time. This was something much deeper.

“Would you like to come in and get a tour of the suite? The terrace balcony has a priceless view of the ocean. I promise not to bite,” she was being cheeky and fun to alleviate the pressure building inside her.

Those big, blue eyes made him cave like a house of cards. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, but I’ll take my chances and come in anyway. I want to be clear that I’m not the kind of guy who takes advantage of a girl who’s tipsy. I want you completely sober so you don’t miss a thing.” He winked at her as she opened the door, dropping her clutch and key card on the table before heading for the second-floor balcony. Mac climbed the stairs behind her, staring at her luscious ass. When he got back to his suite one long, cold shower waited for him, which would do nothing to abate the craving for this woman.

She was right; the view was priceless. It was the same view from his suite at the other end of the resort. She walked to the edge of the balcony, holding on to the railing and breathing in the crisp evening scents. The ocean breeze wisped softly on her skin and rustled her hair. Mac came up behind her.

Reel it in, mate. You need to wait it out. There are feelings here that need your attention more than what your cock needs.

He slid his hands around her waist as she leaned back to put her head on his shoulder. He smelled the honeysuckle in her hair again, bringing him back to thoughts of home. This time they were replaced by the thoughts of Mara with him in Scotland.

“It’s beautiful, and the stars are incredible.” Mac just stood there, holding her. Peace came over him. He nuzzled her neck, brushing her hair to the side as she turned in his arms with lusty eyes. He wanted to kiss her again, but this time would be different.

They say kissing is one of the most intimate things two people can do. You can tell a lot from a kiss; it just may be the direct line to the heart. Things changed since he last saw her, not only for him but he sensed there were changes for her, too. While she continually broke through his roadblocks, he’d gotten her to trust him a little bit more. He needed to make this count, making sure she was well aware of how much she affected him.

The breeze gently moved her hair. He took her face in his hands, rubbing her rosy cheeks with his thumbs while his fingers cradled the back of her head. Her eyes never left his, like two beacons searching his thoughts. He wondered how she would react when she found out his secret. She would figure him out sooner or later. He banked on later, though, after her heart was safely tucked away. Of course, that would go both ways. Once she made her way beyond his fortress, there was no turning back. She would capture him mind, body, and soul. He would be all hers, moving heaven and earth to make their situation work for both of them. She interrupted his train of thought with a question.

“What’s a
leannan,
Mr. Creighton?” She said smugly, knowing how she affected him. The evidence poked her in the belly, a reminder of its size. She enjoyed the power of having that kind of effect on him, giving her a sense of control.

“
Leannan
means sweetheart in Gaelic. My grandfather used to call my grandmother that all the time. It came out naturally and seems to fit you.” The gentleness in his eyes held her captive. The way the softness of his accent rolled off his tongue gave her chills. She could listen to him talk all day, every day.

“I bet that’s what you tell all the girls.” She stood back, testing him and searching for the truth in his eyes.

He held her waist firmly. “Actually, you’re the only one, because of its special meaning for me. My grandparents were married for sixty years before they passed away. They loved one another very much, dying within days of each other. It’s like they were made for each other.” He held her gaze to make sure she understood his implication. She was significant to him in many ways. He had just thrown it all out there. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.

Mara sucked in her breath, aware of the shift in him. It suddenly became clear that he wasn’t the player she thought he was as she heard the sincerity in his voice. No one would use their grandparents as leverage to get a woman in bed. As if she stepped away from herself, the air shifted and things between them were taking another turn. She wondered if he would be the one to break through her steel wall. He might be that light she needed to break free from her dark existence.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know the name meant so much to you; otherwise, I wouldn’t have made light of it. Thank you. I love the way
leannan
sounds when you say it, and now that I know how much it means to you, it makes me feel very special.” Her eyelashes fluttered down with the apology. Mac grabbed her chin to face him.

“You’re special, Mara. I don’t want you to forget that, ever.” He believed it down to his Scot blood. Mac wanted to erase whatever harmed her at the hands of her dead husband. He leaned over, touching his forehead to hers. “I need to go before things get out of control. I want you too much.” His soul-altering kiss would wait. The evening became heavier than he intended. He gave her a chaste kiss on those lips he would be dreaming about later that night. Passion waited in the wings to make its debut.

“Wait. Can we sit down? I need to talk to you.” The moment was now or never. The combination of her liquid courage and his words of endearment made her braver than ever before. She needed to seize this opportunity to let him in. This was the risk she needed to take, tired of living behind the shield in darkness; she wanted the light to bathe and envelop her. She needed to share this with a man she trusted. He expressed his willingness to wait for her. The sexual tension so thick between them, it pulse in the air, but he would walk away to wait for her. She looked over that edge again, and this time the jump felt right.

“Mara? What’s wrong?” Her face a blank slate, like someone about to drop a bomb. Mac was afraid of what was coming but had gotten used to making new discoveries about this woman.

Mara plopped herself down in the nearest lounger while Mac sat across from her, knees touching.

“I want more with you. What happened between us in the water was incredible. It felt different than anything I’ve ever experienced. Not that I have that much experience.” She shyly dropped her head to hide her embarrassment. “You’re not going to like what I tell you next.”

When she looked up, her brows furrowed with real concern for what he would think of her next confession. Her hands twisted together. He would think she was the most naive woman on the planet.

He had her in his sights, not letting her back out. Everyone had their walls and darkness; hers wouldn’t be any different. He never talked to a woman with the ease he talked to Mara and she was so easy to be with. He wanted her to trust him so they could move forward together.

Mac put his hands over hers, “Mara, I want you, and yes, damn it, I want more, too. I took your lead and held back. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to ravage you. You’re struggling with many things right now, and I don’t want to go too fast and ruin everything. I want to know everything about you. You aren’t like any other woman I’ve ever met before. As you’ve already guessed, I’ve had more than a couple of women, but none got under my skin the way you did. Whatever you have to tell me, I can handle it. I’m not going to run,
leannan
.”

She blinked a couple of times, a bit taken aback by his raw honesty. Her own family didn’t read her as well as he did in the short amount of time they had been together. The wheels were set in motion; she couldn’t turn back. She took her hands out from under his, gripping them together to the point of pain in her lap. Using them as an anchor, she took a deep breath and looked up at Mac. If he rejected her after her confession, she wanted to witness it firsthand.

“I talked to my sisters about my sex life with Brock, and they informed me that I was abused by him.” She waited to see his reaction as he cursed under his breath. His gaze never left her eyes. She continued on before she chickened out.

“Before my husband, I had only been with one other man, once, and not successfully. During most of our marriage, Brock more or less forced himself on me, and sex was often painful for me. And...” She hesitated, debating whether she should tell him everything but then again, she had nothing to lose. She needed to peel this layer off her, shedding some of the pain in the process. “Sometimes, I bled. I don’t want to go into all the details, but I thought you should know at least that much. The doctor said there is nothing physically wrong with me. I have some scarring. Some women just encounter painful sex and I may be one of them, although I don’t know for sure.”

At that moment, she seemed truly lost and confused by her own conflicting words. She steeled herself to continue. “Raquelle seems to think this was more his fault than mine. Honestly, I have no idea. The last year of our marriage, we didn’t have sex and I suspected he was having an affair, which my sisters confirmed for me. I thought that sex, or the lack of sex, between us was normal for a couple married five years. To go along with all of that, he also made many nasty and hurtful comments about my lower region, which made me incredibly self-conscious. There was always something in the back of my mind that said maybe this wasn’t normal, but I was too embarrassed to tell anyone the real details of what was going on. Now, after talking to my sisters, I feel stupid and naive.” She debated whether she wanted to confess her true feelings about her dead husband as the tears started to crest at her bottom eyelashes.

Her voice cracked at her next truth. “This is going to sound awful but when Brock died, a huge weight lifted off me and I began to question everything about him and my marriage. It sounds wrong, but it was an awakening for me. I wanted to tell you so you can run now and spare yourself from being with a frigid incapable woman.”

The tears streamed down her face as a sob broke out. “I’m so broken, Mac. You should get out while you can, but it was important to me that I was honest with you.”

Her tears made a path down her blushed cheeks, clearing the way for what lay underneath, the real her. Her eyes showed the resolve that she had no control over his response. She didn’t want him to turn away from her, needing him in so many ways. She began praying that he wouldn’t run, that he would see the real her, a whole picture of the stained glass window and not the shattered pieces of colored glass created by her cruel husband.

Mac pulled his hands through his hair, huffed then gritted his teeth. His anger spewed forth without control. He stood up from the lounger and started to pace. In that moment, he seemed bigger to Mara, puffed up and pissed off, like some sort of raging bull.

“It explains a lot. That goddamn son of a bitch! It sounds like he enjoyed being cruel and knew exactly what he was doing. I could show him what cruel is. I can torture a man with the will of steel till he cries like a baby. Friggin’ asshole. My God, if he were alive now, he wouldn’t be for long. I’d pull his cock out through his nose and make him bleed.”

He blew out a deep breath to gain some control and stood there for a long moment, just staring at Mara, anger edged with disbelief. He slowly sat back down on his lounger. He never looked away from her; she was wide-eyed and didn’t know which way to turn. Mac leaned forward, grabbing her hand as his thumb stroked her fingers. He held her face tenderly in his other hand, catching her tears with his thumb.

He took a deep breath, blowing out the frustration of thoughts running through his head, but he wouldn’t run. This challenge they would overcome together. He wanted to show her how beautiful sex could be between two people who cared about each other. She said she wanted more, and more was what she would get, with someone who cared about her. He wondered what about Brock’s angle. He never understood cruelty of the innocent. She never exhibited the bitchiness that was so easily apparent in some women.

“I’m not going anywhere, Mara. Your husband was a real bastard. He knew he was hurting you. The fact that he didn’t try to find out what was going on with you said a lot about him. I still want us to be together. I want to try and find out what happens. I don’t see a frigid woman in front of me. I see someone who is inexperienced, scared, and abused. You are a victim of ignorance. How could you recognize if something was wrong if you didn’t know what was right to begin with? Yes, your sisters are right, he abused you. Sex between two people should be loving, slow, and with awareness—playful but not painful. Don’t let him break you, Mara. Don’t let him stay in your head. You’re stronger than him. It’s a weak man who preys on a woman and chips away at her self-confidence.”