Wrapped Up in a Beau (17 page)

“You saw that, too?” Elizabeth chimed in.

“Tom Whitland is one of the biggest flirts I know,” Sophie declared.

Elizabeth watched him disappear in the crowd. “I'd love it if he flirted with me. But obviously he prefers brunettes.”

Greta shrugged. “We danced at the Christmas party, that's all.” Excusing herself, Greta went to the restroom to relieve her bladder and powder her nose. Her mood shaded darker with every minute, confused by Mason's withdrawal. When she came back out, she almost bumped into Tom, and a slosh of beer spilled over his cup.

“Oh, sorry!” She swiped at the beer on his sleeve.

His smile was wide. “No damage done. I'm glad I ran into you. Gives me an excuse to talk to you alone. How was your Christmas in Swan's Crossing?” As she paused, thinking of a general answer, Tom added, “I can already tell it exceeded your wildest expectations.”

She laughed softly. If he only knew! “It was…” Unexpected. Magical. Passionate. “It was lovely. How about yours?”

“Typical. I have a big family, so there was a lot of food and a few fists flying. My uncles trying to talk over one another while my nephew almost set his hair on fire. One of my sisters crying over a guy, and quite a few gifts I'd like to return.”

“Sounds lively.”

“I imagine things were a little more civilized at the Renclair estate.”

She smiled. Civilized? A little too much, but she'd miss them all terribly. “They were very gracious hosts.”

“Think you'll come back? If you like Christmastime in Swan's, then you'll love the festivals we have in the summer. I could take you on horseback through the trails.”

“You have horses?”

He nodded, grinning. “I grew up on them. Too bad you're leaving or else I'd give you a tour. Maybe if you do come back, you'll look me up.” He stared at her with open interest, and Greta realized he was flirting with her. She couldn't fault him; he had no idea how involved she'd been with Mason. Still, she didn't want to be rude about an invitation she would never accept.

“Well, if and when I do return, I'll keep that offer in mind,” she told him politely.

“Great.” The door of the men's restroom opened and he started to move around her. “I'll let you get back to the girls. Happy New Year.” He kissed her cheek.

“Oh. You too.” The crowd had thickened. As she maneuvered between the bodies, someone caught her elbow. “Mason.”

His blue eyes stared into hers. “I was just coming to talk to you.”

At first, she wanted to smile, so happy to see him, but she kept a coolness about her, and checked the urge to throw her arms around him. “What are you doing here? I thought you didn't have time to come out.”

“I made time.”

Why? She wanted to ask. Because he missed her? Because he felt guilty for not spending time with her these last two days? Or was he just horny? Well, none of it meant he felt the way she did. “I'm glad you came. Come join us for a drink.”

“I thought we could go somewhere. The two of us.” The desire in his eyes spoke volumes. She had her answer. Sex was what he needed. Well, it wasn't enough now.

“You just got here. It's still early.”

He stared at her, baffled. “I didn't think you'd want to stay…”

“I do. I'm having fun.” Mostly true. She was enjoying herself, but now didn't see how she could continue to do so with him there to rattle her nerves.

Searching her eyes, he seemed even more confused that she didn't want to leave with him. He dropped her hand. “I saw you talking to Whitland. Is he the reason why you're having such a good time?”

Taken aback, she lowered her brows. “What are you talking about?”

“You were flirting with him.” He shrugged. “Maybe I'm not the guy who should be here with you tonight.”

Why you
…“I didn't think you were the jealous type.”

“It's not jealousy. I just don't want you to feel obligated to spend time with me if you'd rather enjoy yourself—”

“With a new man? Another fling?”

He frowned. “That's not what I was going to say.”

“Really? Well, I hope you don't think I'm that kind of woman, Mason. That I missed a man's company so badly I would flirt with the next one that came along. I was only being friendly.”

With a regretful shake of his head, he set his hands on her shoulders. “You're right. I'm sorry. I'm a jealous moron.” Gazing at her, he uttered, “God, you're beautiful.” He skimmed the hair from her face, fingertips brushing sensually from her brow to her cheek. Her pulse accelerated at his touch, and she wanted to close her eyes and sigh, turn her face in his palm. She couldn't tell him to stop it; she didn't dare mention she loved it. Loved him.

“Are you sure you don't want to go?” he asked huskily.

She didn't know what was making her stay at the pub, other than her insecurity, her fear. If he made love to her again, she'd surely crumble and spill her intense feelings. “I…”

“Mason!” Sophie strode over. “Forget it. I forbid you to steal Greta away. You've had her every single night since Christmas.”

Greta blushed, putting space between her and Mason.
He certainly has
.

“You can't go yet,” her friend implored. “The night's just begun. You're leaving in twenty-four hours. Don't make me beg.” She bumped with her elbow. “I will, though.”

Must've been divine intervention coming to her aid. “I'm not going anywhere, don't worry.” By the desirous heat in his eyes, it didn't appear he would leave without her.

A few hours later, it was impossible for her not to accept a ride to the guesthouse from him. Sophie had to take a cab, Nichole had disappeared with a colleague she ran into and Elizabeth had left early.

As the taxi pulled up to drive Sophie home, Greta's heart pounded with light panic. “Maybe I should go with her. To make sure she makes it to her townhouse okay.”

Sophie waved her off as the cab driver opened the back door for her. “I'm fine! Go with my brother before he strangles me in public.”

Mason's warm hand enveloped hers. “Come on.”

Having no choice, Greta followed him to his car and got in. As he drove, she pretended to be interested in checking her cell phone messages, but he took her hand and kissed her fingers, setting them down on his muscled thigh. While her heart raced, she forced herself not to give in. Part of her wanted to berate him for being M.I.A. the past couple days, but to what end? She'd sound whiny and desperate, and it wasn't as though she had a right to complain.

To break the fizzling sexual tension, she attempted to initiate small talk, asking him about work, about anything. But Mason's answers were brief and non-engaging. He'd say yes, no, or short-word replies when a yes or no wouldn't do.

When they pulled up to the guesthouse, Greta scrambled to come up with an excuse for him not to come in. As he walked around to open her door, she thought of how she could claim she was fatigued, and needed to sleep.

After he helped her out and gestured for her to walk in front of him, she fumbled with her key then her words. “Thank you for the ride. I definitely had a little too much to drink. Sophie's friends were so nice.” She approached the door and sucked in a breath, turning to face him. “I'm—”

His hands dove into her hair, and he dipped to her mouth. A long, crushing, especially desperate kind of kiss. Her legs turned to noodles as he deepened it, slipping his tongue between her lips, groaning achingly. Yes. How she wanted him, needed this. Her hands went to his chest and gripped the lapels of his coat, and she fell back against the door. He tasted divine, a heady combination of hot male and pent-up desire. A drugging combination that fueled her. Him pressing into her, devouring her mouth, bought her back to life like nothing else. She cupped his jaw before raking her fingers to the back of his head with a whimper. He trembled, grasping her waist. If he wished to drag her underwear down and drive into her out here in the cold, against the door, she didn't think she'd even stop him. Shocked by her thoughts, she fought for some semblance of sanity.

He lifted his head, breathing hard, pressing his forehead to hers. “I couldn't wait. I've been thinking about this all night. Greta, I missed you. Two days. What the hell was I thinking?”

Greta tried to speak, but he cut her off and claimed her mouth again. A hot knot formed in her throat, tears at the back of her eyes. Think. Think! How could she when he kissed her like this? Maybe she should give in, open the door. It would feel so good, even if it was the last time.

No. He only wanted to sleep with her before she left, and she only wanted to because she was in love. She couldn't let it go any further, no matter how much she burned to.

With all the strength she'd reserved for this moment, she forced herself to separate from his lips. His hands clenched in her hair, shaking.

Heaven help me. This is so hard
. “Mason, please…don't.”

He eased back, searching her. “What's wrong?”

“I just…” She closed her eyes as she lied. “I'm not feeling very—I'm tired.”

He sighed long, his warm breath fanning her mouth. “You don't want me to come inside?”

The disappointment in his deep voice was like a shot to the heart. For him to go was the last thing she wanted. But self-preservation owned her now. The sooner he left, the better. Another night with him would only make it worse. “No. I don't think you should.”

Slowly, he slid his hands from her neck, took a step back and raked fingers through his hair. “Sorry, I…right. Do you need a ride to the airport?”

The brisk of the night's air swept over her without him to shelter her, and her lips shook. “No…thank you. Your mother arranged for Trent to take me. We leave for the airport at six.”

He cleared his throat, nodding. “Good.”

Good she was leaving? Her heart broke even more. “Six p.m. that is. So I'll be here all day. You'll come by, won't you?” She swallowed the tears, though the hot ball in her throat refused to go down with them. “To say good-bye?” she half-whispered.

“Sure. I'll do that.” Though it didn't sound like he meant it. He faintly touched her cheek. “Get inside. It's cold. Good night, Greta.”

Why did good night sound more like good-bye? As soon as she heard the engine start, she unlocked the door then rushed inside, fighting back tears.
Why did I have to fall in love with him?

Chapter Sixteen

Why did he have to fall in love with her?

The next day, Mason took out his frustrations with anyone who dared to get in his way at the office. Eventually, he'd have to apologize for barking answers to questions. It wasn't his nature to bark.

The clock switched to 5:25 p.m. and he frowned. Greta would be leaving in half an hour to make it to the airport.

But, he wasn't going to wish her well. He'd been able to get through the entire day without going to the estate to say good-bye. Surely he could make it another thirty minutes—

Bang bang
on his door. “Mason William Renclair!”

His sister. Holding in a breath, he pushed up from his desk and opened it.

“You let her go?” Sophie exclaimed, marching past him as Mason instructed his executive assistant to hold all calls and visitors.

Mason shut the door, sighed, and rounded the desk to face her. “Keep your voice down.”

She didn't. “You're an idiot. You're so intelligent when it comes to making business decisions. You see a good thing, you go for it. Most of the time, you're a success. But this is definitely a monumental fail.” Sophie set her hands on her hips. “Fun fact: you and Greta are meant to be together. Everyone knows this but you. Grandpa knows. Dad knows. Mom knows, and
approves
by the way. Are you scared because she claims she wants to settle in England? That's not entirely true. A woman like Greta needs to be swept off her feet and shown the way home. From what she told me, she's never had one. She only picked England by default, you know. Mason, she's good for you! I know
you
know it. And you're going to let her go back without a word of protest.”

He took a seat, his voice calm, manner unfazed, even though her words struck him. “Why would I protest?”

His sister studied him for an uncomfortable amount of time. He waited, raising an eyebrow, expecting her to answer. Suddenly, her demeanor changed entirely. Her brows lifted and she shrugged. “Oh. Okay. Guess I was wrong about your feelings. Forget I said anything.” She unbuttoned her coat, shrugged out of it and folded it over the back of the chair. Mason's brows lowered when she primly sat down, crossed her legs and clasped her hands over her knees. “Anyhoo, how was your day? Mine has been a huge headache. There's someone stealing things out of people's luggage in the hotel. My assistant manager suggested we change the locks, but that won't fix the problem entirely because it could be staff or someone who's gotten hold of a master key. Then he insisted we hire a security guard for every single floor of the hotel but
that
would be ridiculously expensive, and it might make the guests nervous…what?” she asked as he gazed questionably at her. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Sophie, what's going on?” Mason was baffled. He checked the clock. “You marched in here yelling at me about Greta, and now you're talking about the hotel?”

“What do you mean?”

Impatience and frustration rose. If he didn't leave now, he wouldn't catch Greta. But wait…he'd decided not to go. Right? He struggled to catch his bearings. “Uh, I mean, I asked you why I would protest about Greta leaving. Her vacation is over. It's time for her to go back to her life.” He lightly hit his desk with a fist. “She didn't want anything complicated and neither did I. But then it did get… I thought that…” God, he was rambling and his sister stared blankly. “To ask her to stay just because I don't want to know what it's like when she's gone is…is…” What the hell was he trying to explain? There was no reason to get into this discussion with Sophie.

He cleared his throat. 5:35 p.m. “I looked for the signs, you know,” he murmured, not sure if he was talking to his sister or himself. “I'm pretty good at reading people, especially women, but she…she's different. I love that about her. And yet at the same time it drives me crazy! Sure, she's beautiful, classy and funny, but she's also strong. And quirky. She isn't afraid to be silly. I've never met a woman who could carry herself with such grace, then turn around and fall on her butt on the ice, and laugh about it.” He huffed, and shook his head.

Like a bolt of lightning struck, he shot out of the chair. Sophie blinked up at him.

What the hell was he doing, still in his office? “Install a few security cameras or something. I have to go.”

He didn't wait for his sister to remark before slamming out of his office.

And he didn't see Sophie's smug smile while he marched far down the hall. “Works every time.”

Greta stood next to the car in front of the main house. Even though she knew it was futile, she looked behind her at the guesthouse and paused, watching, waiting to see if Mason would pull up. She must've lingered much longer than she'd realized.

“Left something, Miss Marcum?” Trent, the driver, asked as he held open the car door.

My heart, I suppose
.
He's not coming
. He had no intention of saying good-bye. She forced a smile and shook the thoughts from her head. “No, I'm ready.” Then climbed in the backseat.

Every place she visited left a lasting impression—memories to cherish—but no place had made her want to stay. When they drove past the “Leaving Swan's Crossing” sign, her throat constricted and closed, tears threatening. No reason to be upset, she told herself
. I can always come back to visit.

She huffed with dry amusement. Why on earth would she return anytime soon? To see the man she'd fallen in love with and torture herself further?

Suddenly, Greta heard a soft ringing in the car speakers. Trent pressed a button and greeted the caller. “Hello, sir.”

Her heart stopped. Mason's voice boomed through. “Trent. Pull over. Right now.”

She whipped her head to the back window, as surprise shot through her heart. Where was he?

Trent obeyed the gently spoken, but clear command and cautiously slowed the car down in the shoulder lane.

Excited—and confused—as to why Mason would order such a thing, Greta unbuckled her seatbelt. Mason's car pulled up behind them a minute later and when he got out, a slight fury showed in his handsome face. Why would he be mad?

Trent remained in the car as she opened her door.

Mason didn't greet her with a smile as he marched toward her. “Is this what you do? Breeze into a new town, make people care about you? Plot to drive a logical, sane man crazy so all he can think about is you? Then leave so you don't have to face the results?”

She opened and closed her mouth. She hadn't expected this. “Wha-what are you talking about? Why did you make him stop the car?”

“Answer my question.”

“It's a ridiculous question! No, this isn't what I
do
. As if I'd have some sort of agenda like that.”

“Well, I'm here to tell you, you do.”

“And once again, you're chasing me down and starting an argument on the street.”

“Because you're running again. You didn't wait for me.”

“Well,
excuse me
. I thought if you wanted to wish me farewell, you wouldn't wait until the very last second of the hour. I assumed you weren't coming.”

He flinched as though he regretted doing so. “I almost didn't. From your cold rejection last night, I figured it was best if I didn't bother.”

“I wasn't cold! I just refused to be used. After you'd blown me off for the past
two
days, I didn't know what to think.”

He threw up his hands. “I apologized!”

“Without an explanation! And don't say you were working twenty-four hours a day!”

Why were they arguing? If he stopped her for a futile fight, she didn't have it in her. “Mason Renclair, unless you have something of
importance
to say, I'm getting back in the car and making my flight.” She turned, but he caught her.

“This
is
important, Greta. Now listen. Before we met, I had a tradition. A good one. Had I followed that tradition, I would be back in town with a tan, some peace of mind, sleeping like a baby and ready to get back to business. But I didn't stick to the plan. I stayed because of
you
.”

And now he wanted to yell at her because of the choice he made? Her fists curled. “I have to get to the airport.”

He ignored her and continued. “Now because of you I'm pale, can't sleep alone, can barely get any real work done. And because of you…” His hand dropped, his eyes shifting away. Then he moved those incredible blue eyes to hers, and his voice softened considerably, almost broken. “I see what I have and know how lucky I really am, Greta. I will never take my family, my upbringing for granted again. Not to mention I had the best Christmas in years. Because of you.”

Her eyes started to water, but she put out a hand as he came closer. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because I want you to stay. I don't want you to go back to England because I
love
you.” He sighed, shrugged, looking hopeless. “Hasn't it been obvious?”

Obvious? No! Because if it had been, she wouldn't be stunned into silence. He loved her? “But—”

“I know.” He raked a hand through his hair. “We made an agreement to keep this…
fling
uncomplicated, but that's shot to hell. Probably was the second after I agreed to it. I fell in love with you, woman. Quite easily might I add and I don't do
anything
easy. So yes, I failed on our agreement.”

“Mason—”

He cupped her face. “If you think I don't know the difference between lust and love, you're wrong. It's more than that. It's your laugh, your kindness…your everything. If you take a second to think about how good we are togeth—”

She touched his lips, laughing breathlessly. “Stop. I need to get a word in.”

He nodded, sucking in a breath, waiting.

Her smile was soft, her pulse beating wildly. “You're after my heart, I take it?”

“I am.”

Shaking her head, heart exulting with joy, she placed her hand on his face. “Isn't it obvious? It's already yours. I'm in love with you. Have been from the night I realized I wanted to stop running away from people who care about me. I love this town, your family, too. I see now I've been searching for a place to call home, even though I thought I had one picked out in Willowcombe. Fate brought me here to show me I was way off course.”

Chuckling, he claimed her lips, and hugged her close. With all her worth, she clung to him, disbelieving this was real.

He broke away, wiping at her cheeks, regarding her with wonder then he sighed with what sound like relief. “You belong in Swan's Crossing. With me. With all of us. It's been clear from the first night this is where you should be. I'm not talking another weekend, or a few days more. I know it's not your style to stay in one place for long and I don't ever want to hold you back. All I ask is that if you have the urge to escape for a little while—anywhere—you'll take me with you.”

She smiled up at him, happy, and in love. “If I do, I promise we'll always come home.”

He smiled, then bowed his head to give her a kiss her wandering soul could rest in.

Christmas was over, but the magic of it could go on every single day when a girl found the home she'd been wishing for.