Shackles of Honor (55 page)

He raised his eyebrows a moment and nodded. “Sir, is it again?” he mumbled, grinning at her slightly. “You think I act irrationally? Perhaps so. I admit to you that my wits have been cast to the wind this day.
”

He endeavored to pull her closer, all the while gazing up beguilingly at her. She nearly lost her balance and put her hands on his shoulders to steady herself as she looked apprehensively down into his perfect face.

“Comfort me, Cassidy Bliss. Divert my thoughts, if you will. For that is, in itself, comfort, is it not?” he mumbled.

Cassidy paused, her attention captured by his lips, which curved up slightly in a small grin. He turned his head to one side and placed a lingering kiss on the back of her hand, which grasped his shoulder. She pulled the hand away quickly, unsettled yet elated by the tingling sensation his gesture caused. He quickly caught the escaping hand and pressed her palm to his lips, his eyes weaving a spell of bewitching enticement. After kissing her palm several times in succession, he took her other hand from his shoulder and placed both of her soft palms to his cheeks, holding them with his own. His jaw was solid, his face rough with whisker growth, and Cassidy began to tremble with anticipation, for she knew he meant to kiss her. She watched, mesmerized by his handsome features, as her own thumbs caressed his lips softly. He grinned triumphantly at her as his arms encircled her waist loosely.

“Come now, sweet Bliss. It is simple enough. Distract me then.”

His manner was teasing, but the pain of loss apparent in his eyes was the truth. His expression wore a smile. Indeed it did. Yet fatigue, frustration, and the appearance of being overwhelmed by responsibility were there as well. Cassidy’s heart ached with an unfathomable sympathy for him, for his loss
,
and for the sudden responsibilities placed upon his broad shoulders. She watched, astonished at her own actions, as her hands slid slowly from his cheeks, upward, her fingers losing themselves in the softness of his hair. He closed his eyes, a heavy sigh escaping his lungs, further proof of his discouragement. Softly she stroked his hair over and over again, sens
ing
that it worked to relax him somewhat. After long moments of silence, he unexpectedly leaned forward, resting his head fully on her stomach while his arms still held her waist. His breathing was steady and his body still for such long moments that she wondered if perhaps he had fallen asleep. In the next instant, however, he released her and stood up suddenly.

“Your hands weave a spell of soothing comfort. I will not deny you that.” Then he smiled and moved past her toward the door. Pausing, he turned and added, “But your skills in distraction need tuning if a simple rumpling of my hair is all you can offer.”

“What desire you that I should do?” she exclaimed then. It had taken great courage for her to initiate even the simplest of caressing affections. “Fling myself at you? Would merely seducing you entirely befit your expectations?”

“Yes!” he nearly shouted, the expression of frustration returning to his face. “You find me in a weak moment, Miss Shea. A moment when I have not the strength left in
me to support all those in need, t
o stand as an invincible pillar against all else.” He strode angrily back to where she stood, pointed one trembling finger at her face
,
and growled, “You offered me blessed distraction…and only toyed with my senses a bit, teasing and taunting, further adding to my grief!”

“I offered distraction! I did not offer that you should own my virtue!” Cassidy cried out as tears trickled down her cheeks.

“And I did not ask that I should.” He turned and angrily left the room, slamming the door violently.

Instantly Cassidy was at his heels. She nearly had to run to catch up to him and barely slipped through the opening of his chamber door before it slammed shut as well.

“Mason,” she pleaded, taking hold of his arm. But he yanked it from her grasp furiously. “Mason! Stop this at once!” she demanded. He looked at her, his eyes narrowing daringly. “Please stop this tantrum.”

Mason inhaled deeply and clenched his teeth shut, obviously to restrain himself from remarking back to her.

“Here,” she began then, taking hold of either side of his shoulders and letting her hands go to the back of his neck. Gently she rubbed at the tangible ache in his muscles caused from emotional exertion. But it was awkward for her to massage him thoroughly his height such as it was. “Please, sit down on the bed,” she urged.

He obeyed
,
and she sat next to him, continuing her work on the soreness of his muscles. As she worked a spell of relaxation over him, she again looked about the room, at the scene of total destruction.

How deep the pain he must be feeling,
she thought.

Mason shook his head, turned to face her, took her hands from his shoulders
,
and held them tightly in his lap. “You take such a lot of bad behavior from me,” he mumbled. “You are a good girl. Do you know that?”

Cassidy didn’t hear a word he had said, for when he turned to face her, took her hands in his own, her attention was immediately distracted by his mouth, the subtle movement of his lips as he spoke. Without further thought of consequence, she leaned forward quickly and placed one long, firmly sweet kiss directly on his lips. She did not pull back from him once the kiss had ended, but remained leaning forward, her mouth only inches from his. In an instant his hands released hers, took hold of her face powerfully
,
and drew her head to his once more as his mouth worked a kiss so solid and thorough that it threatened to smother her, to cause her discomfort.

All his frustrations, pain
,
and emotions were apparent as he continued to kiss her. His arms went around her, attempting to pull her closer as he worked a spell of grievous passion about her. But their position was awkward
,
and he grew impatient with it. Before Cassidy realized what had taken place, Mason simply laid his body back on the bed, pulling her forward so she too lay stretched out next to him as their affectionate exchange continued to blaze. Having her wits more fully about her than Mason seemed to, Cassidy breathlessly pushed herself free of him for a moment, shaking her head.

“You are only distressed, Mason. I remind you again that you would not normally act so…”

His sorrowful, tired, impassioned gaze captured hers
,
and her words were lost. He sat up and gently took hold of her shoulders as he carefully laid her back on the bed, letting his body rest next to hers. One of his powerful hands slid beneath her head as he supported himself on one elbow, enabling him to embrace her at the waist, leaning over her as he continued his previous endeavors.

“Mason,” Cassidy pleaded. But she felt her resolve dissipating as he began placing moist
,
lingering kisses on her throat. “Mason…I…I…” she whispered, for she realized that her will was overcome and that her trust in him would needs be her champion.

“Place your trust in me, Cassidy. Trust me.” His voice was low and soothing. His eyes were warm and reassuring. Honest. Honorable.

“I do trust you,” she whispered.

“I promise you,” his low, provocative voice mumbled, “your wisdom in such a choice is merited.”

His mouth took hers more gently this time. For long minutes they shared the taste of each other’s kiss. They embraced, his hand caressing her face, neck, hair, and sometimes her shoulder. And she held him as well, let her fingers interlace at the back of his neck or be lost in the beloved softness of his hair, let her hands travel over the powerful muscles in his back and arms, measure the breadth of his strong shoulders. And ever was he a gentleman. Never once did his hands stray beyond that which was acceptable. Never once did he endeavor to perform any impropriety.

The mantel clock striking three in the dark hours of morning broke the bewitching alliance they had formed. Mason released Cassidy, sat up fully
,
and grasped his forehead as if a pain w
ere
tormenting him there. Cassidy’s skin tingled with the remnant sense of Mason’s touch. Her neck and lips still sensed his kiss. She was overwhelmed with an intoxicating type of contented fatigue, and in closing her eyes only for a moment, sleep nearly overtook her.

It was in that dimension
—
that odd, foggy place where one is asleep yet still awake
—
that Cassidy felt her body lifted
and
then cradled safely in Mason’s arms. She heard the door to his chamber open, heard his footsteps in the corridor, smelled the sweet scent of vanilla that adorned her own chamber. She knew when he laid her on her bed
,
and in that sweet, foggy security before sleep, she opened her eyes
,
and tears stained her cheeks once more at the sight of him appearing so tired and hurt before her. His smile was gone. Any semblance of endurance was gone.

As he reached down and cupped her cheek in his hand, brushing at her tears with his thumb, he mumbled, “You loved him, did you not? More deeply than you thought you would.”

“Yes,” she admitted in a whisper.

Mason’s hand left her cheek and went to his own eyes as he rubbed wearily at their excess moisture. “Diversion. But only temporary, Bliss. For the dawn brings reality. And what is will be.” Turning from him, she wept bitterly into the softness of her pillow. And still, a moment before he stood and left her alone in her grief, she sensed her entire body thrilling as she felt his moist kiss on the nape of her neck.

“Mason, I love you,” she whispered. But only after he’d closed the door behind him.



Cassidy crept soundlessly into the east parlor. Somehow she still couldn’t believe the great LaMont Carlisle was gone from the earth. Could not believe he’d left so many who loved him so entirely. The wake brought many people to pay their respects to LaMont, Devonna
,
and Mason. Cassidy had never been able to say her own good-byes. Nor did she believe that her own father would understand her affection for the man she’d known for such a short time were he to witness her desire to say farewell. But LaMont Carlisle had known her soul. At once he had known it. And she knew he had known Mason’s. And he, he alone
,
told the truth of it all
—o
f why and how she had been chosen for Mason. She felt his loss so greatly and knew that the loss someday of her own parents would be much more the horror
.
She
wondered if she could endure it when the time came.

Her mother and father were deeply devastated at the loss. It was obvious as they looked on in mournful disbelief at his wake. They left, saddened and in pain, as soon as it concluded.

Now, quietly and with great trepidation, Cassidy walked softly to stand next to the casket, which would hold LaMont Carlisle’s remains while they took their long journey to join the earth where his mortal body would rest come the morrow.

“Oh, you cannot be gone,” she whispered aloud, startling herself
,
“
f
or you look as you did only just days ago, as you were resting and I came upon you for reassuring conversation.”

She reached out and placed her small, warm hand over his large and very cold, cold one
that
lay atop his other and on his very, very still breast. The breast
that
would no longer rise and fall with the breath of life.

“But no more will dear Jillian wait for company now,” she added, trying to comfort her own grief. “And they have each other. Though their pain is too great, at this moment, for them to be as grateful as they truly will be…they do have each other.” This too, the knowledge that Devonna and Mason had each other, helped to comfort her, for all the worse LaMont’s death would be were one left alone. Still, the tears spilled excessively from her tired eyes as she looked upon his face.

“But then
,
” she sobbed quietly, “but then, how could you leave
me
?”