Coldhearted (9781311888433) (37 page)

Mason kissed her again. “Do you? Really?”

She nodded and smiled. Now she was crying. “I
do. I love you, Mason.”

He wiped her tears away with gentle thumb
strokes. “I’m going to marry you someday, Edwina St. John.”

They held hands, as they found their way out
of the maze together, and back toward the house, where her uncle
was in the kitchen, making a pot of coffee.

He appraised Edie and Mason, holding hands.
“I see you’ve reconciled.”

Mason couldn’t stifle his grin. “Yes, sir,
and thank you for not kicking me off your property.”

Uncle Landon smiled over his cup of coffee,
steam rising. “And thank you for not climbing over my gate.”

After Edie’s uncle had left the kitchen, she
turned toward Mason and asked, “What was that about?”

Mason blushed. “Well, I was completely manic,
trying to find you. I tried calling, but I couldn’t get through. I
rushed here and practically demanded that your uncle let me through
the gates. Fortunately he did because otherwise I would have scaled
his security fence.”

She withdrew her cell phone from her pocket.
There were no missed calls. She could only assume her phone was
fine. It was Tristan who was the problem, blocking her calls. He’d
failed to block her uncle, though, and that gave her hope that
Tristan wasn’t all powerful.

But she feared that he would soon be. As much
as she didn’t want that to happen, she wasn’t ready to die.

Mason was back in her life. And she was never
letting him go.

Chapter 24

“
So…do you want to go to my
room?” she asked, blushing.

Mason smiled, exposing his dimples. “Yeah,
sure.”

They held hands on the way
to her room, passing by her uncle’s study. She heard the
steady
click-clack
of the keyboard. She knew that he was in his own little world,
and wouldn’t leave his fortress of solitude anytime
soon.

She led Mason inside her bedroom, closed and
locked the door.

“
Wow,” he said, scanning her
room. “This is like three times the size of my room. It’s like a
little house inside a bigger house.” He spread out his hands.
“Being rich has it perks.”

She shrugged. “I’m not rich. My uncle
is.”

“
Well, one day, you’ll
inherit all this, right? From his biography, he’s never been
married, and as far as I know, he doesn’t have any children.
So…this is all yours.”

Edie did a complete turn in her room, seeing
everything in a new light: the walk-in closet, the hand-crafted
furniture, the lush carpet, and the sparkly fixtures, one being the
mini-chandelier above her head that she noticed may actually
contain Swarovski crystals.

“
I’ve never really thought
about,” she admitted. “Ever since I’ve arrived in Grimsby, I’ve had
other things on my mind.”

Mason advanced and held her in his arms. “I
know. I’m sorry. Is…is he here, now?”

“
He’s always around,” she
reminded Mason. “But I don’t hear or see him.”

“
Where’d you go after I’d
left the hospital? Jules said you’d left too, probably running
after me. I’m sorry, again.” Mason pressed her against his chest.
“I shouldn’t have put you through that.”

She kissed his cheek. “It’s okay.
Everything’s great now that you’re here. I just went for a drive,
that’s all.”

It was a lie, but she couldn’t tell him about
Adrian and Arianna. Not yet. Not without Tristan overhearing how
they’d planned, and then scrapped his demise, because Edie didn’t
feel exactly thrilled to be sacrificing her life for the greater
good, when there could be another, less suicidal, alternative.

She needed to forget about all that. Just for
a little while.

And Mason was a terrific distraction.

She took his hand and led him toward her bed.
She saw his eyes light up with possibility. They sat next to each
other with a space in between. Mason hesitated, and then moved
closer, until his thigh brushed hers. He leaned forward, his breath
on her neck, and he pushed her hair back, kissing the spot just
below her ear. She shivered, but in a good way. He turned her
toward him and she found herself sitting in his lap. She looped her
arms around his neck to hold on, as he wrapped his arms around her
waist. As he tilted his head up, she bent hers down, and their lips
met, tenderly, gently, testing the waters, before taking the
ultimate plunge.

Edie’s heart skipped a beat when he shifted
and positioned her underneath him against the mattress. He put his
weight on his elbows, keeping a small distance between their
bodies, before he collapsed, grinding himself against her, and they
kissed and kissed and kissed. Their clothes were a hindrance and
she yearned to rip them off. She was hot all over and became a
believer in the possibility of spontaneous combustion. She was
about to burst. Is this what she’d been missing out on? Is this
what everyone had been talking about? This primal lust coupled with
a never-ending adoration for one’s partner? No, she decided. No one
had ever felt what she was feeling now.

Mason’s hand explored her flushed face.
“You’re so beautiful.” He touched her delicately, as if she were
easily breakable. “I want you, but I won’t push you. Edie, stop me
or let me love you, but please let me love you. Let me show you how
much I worship you. How I can never be apart from you. Not even in
death.”

“
Yes,” she breathed,
surprised that she could speak at all.

****

They were lying in bed, cuddling and
kissing, until he fell asleep, holding her in his arms under the
covers. She remained wide awake and blissfully happy, smiling like
an idiot. She’d forgotten about Tristan until he appeared,
ghost-like and transparent beside her bed, bringing a snowstorm
with him. She shivered and pressed her back against Mason’s chest,
letting his warmth soothe her nerves.

In this moment, she realized that Tristan
had just watched her having sex.

“
Enjoy the show?” she
asked, as if she didn’t care.

But she was trying not to blush from her
compromising position and pulled the bed sheets higher.

“
As a matter of fact, I
did,” he said with a crooked smile, and then sat in a plum-colored
leather chair that she kept close to the bed. He relaxed against
it, his arms on the rests, palms flat against the leather, fingers
splayed, almost claw-like. “I’d always wondered,” he continued,
“what you would be like, if you were docile or wild.” He winked.
“I’m glad to see you’re every bit the wild animal I thought you
were; though I wish it’d been me instead of him.” He said this with
a lazy gesture at Mason, who was sleeping peacefully, unaware of
Tristan’s presence. “So…how does it feel to no longer have your
innocence, to be soiled and ruined, like so many of your
bubblegum-chewing peers?”

His tone was filled with disgust, but she
knew that he wasn’t a Puritan. The physical act of love didn’t
disgust him. He was disgusted that she’d had sex with Mason.

“
You’re mad at me,” she
surmised.

“
I’m always mad at you,” he
shot back, and then smiled, kind of sweetly.

“
I don’t care if you’re mad
at me, as long as you don’t hurt the ones I love: Mason, my uncle,
my friends. Even those who don’t like me,” she added. “I don’t want
you hurting them, either.”

Tristan leaned forward, still sitting. He
stared into her eyes, as if he were staring into her soul, and
found it ripe for the taking. “What about you, Edie? What if I want
to hurt you?”

“
You already are,” she said
softly.

Tristan looked hurt, as if she’d wounded
him. It didn’t last long. He tensed and narrowed his eyes at her.
“I haven’t even begun hurting you.”

He stood up and advanced toward her. She
pushed back against Mason even more, feeling every contour; the
well-defined muscles and the little patch of brown hair in the
center of his chest pressed against her skin.

Tristan leaned over her and she shivered
from his cold rage. “When your sweetheart wakes up, tell him that
you no longer want to see him. Tell him: ‘I don’t love you
anymore.’”

She shook her head and started to cry. “No,
no. I can’t!” Mason shifted and grumbled in his sleep. She was
afraid that he’d wake up, so she lowered her voice. “No, I won’t,”
she refused in a whisper. “I love him.”

Tristan wasn’t affected by her tears. He
pointed a threatening finger at her. “If you don’t do as I say,
there will be consequences, Edie. You don’t know me. You don’t know
what I’m capable of, if I don’t get what or who I want. You’re mine
and I don’t care if I have to drag you kicking and screaming into
Hell with me. I’ll never, ever relinquish my hold over you. Do you
understand that? And anyone who gets in my way suffers my wrath.
I’m a jealous man, Edie, and compassion to me is a foreign concept.
I can’t change. I’ll never change. Your beauty and the love I have
for you won’t change who I am. You will succumb to me, sooner or
later. But I won’t wait forever. My patience is limited. I’ll force
you. In the meantime, say goodbye to this weak, mortal creature you
claim to love, and vow to never love another, but me.”

And with that harsh, unloving, and
admittedly, grand speech, he vanished. Mason stirred against her,
found her waist, and wrapped his arm protectively around her. His
lips found the back of her neck and kissed it.

“
Love you,” he said softly,
and then fell back asleep.

She held his hand, cherishing every second
that she had with him, until she had to say goodbye.

****

An hour later, she was dressed and sitting
in the same plum leather chair that Tristan had vacated earlier.
He’d left a cold depression in the seat that she’d been unable to
remedy with her body. She was alive, but felt dead inside. She was
cold; so very, very cold.

She lifted up the top of her sweater and
dabbed at the tear that’d fallen down her cheek, mad at herself for
crying again. She’d cried while Mason slept, getting all that
sorrow out before she had to deliver the most painful blow he
would, undoubtedly, ever receive. If they hadn’t slept together, it
would be easier, maybe.

Tristan had allowed their consummation for a
reason, Edie realized, because he knew what effect it’d have on her
and Mason. They’d shared their bodies in love and desire, had come
together as one, bonded, and would never be the same again. There
was no going back. It was done. Tristan had allowed it to pass to
savor the moment when he would watch Edie break Mason’s heart.

She scolded herself. She shouldn’t have
underestimated him. She shouldn’t have believed that she could have
a normal life. She should’ve never allowed Mason to love her. She
shouldn’t have fallen in love with a guy who would always have a
target on his back.

Tristan saw to it on a regular basis that
she lived a life of misery because all he’d ever known was misery.
Love to him meant submission and control. It was an unequal
partnership that thrived on servitude and obedience.

Tristan Lockhart wasn’t a ghost. He was a
demon.

Mason stirred awake, blinked his eyes a few
times, and then reached out for Edie, but discovered that she
wasn’t beside him. He scanned the room and found her sitting, fully
dressed.

He sat up. “What’s wrong?” The fading light
of the day was shining on his bare chest through the open window.
It illuminated his rapidly beating heart. “Edie? What is it? Do you
regret what we did? Was it too soon? I’m sorry if I pushed you.
Please, I didn’t mean to force you. I-I love you.”

She remained speechless, her throat drier
than the Sahara.

Mason threw off the covers, realized that he
was naked, quickly got dressed, and then crouched in front of her,
gingerly placing his hand on her quaking knee.

“
Edie, baby? I love you.
I’m sorry. Did I…did I hurt you? I tried to be gentle. Please, talk
to me.” Pools of water were collecting around his sad, confused
eyes. “Edie? Please say something. Anything.”

She stifled the urge to sob like a baby and
swallowed, so she could lubricate her throat to talk. “I don’t want
to see you anymore,” she said in a robotic, programmed voice
without emotion. It was easier that way. Just a little bit easier.
“I don’t love you,” she continued lying. “I never have. Now go and
I never want to see you again.”

The tears that he’d been holding back now
fell. She saw the panic on his face; his sorrow was fully exposed.
Hers was concealed behind a mask that was slowly beginning to crack
under pressure. Mason needed to leave, before she retracted
everything that she’d said, putting his life in danger.

But Mason remained, crouched in front of
her. Then he growled and pushed off from his feet, launching into
the air. He spun around the room with a determined look.

“
Tristan, you sick, sorry,
sadistic, punk-ass bastard, I know you’re behind this! You’ll never
win, you know that?! You’ll never have her! She’s mine!” Mason
whirled and grabbed her arms, lifting her up from the chair. He was
hurting her. “Edie?!” He shook her once, then twice, as he held her
up with his strength, her feet hovering above the ground. “Edie,
don’t listen to him! I KNOW YOU LOVE ME!”

He sensed her distress and lowered her
safely to the ground, letting go. She rubbed at her arms, trying to
massage the wounds that he’d given her in his frantic rage.

“
I’m sorry,” he apologized,
stricken at his behavior.

He reached out to comfort her, and even
though she wanted him to, she retreated; one, she was afraid that
he’d hurt her again; and two, she needed to keep up the pretense
that she didn’t love him and didn’t want his touch.