To Eternity (13 page)

She clutched his shirtfront. “There is something else. I didn't want to tell you, but I must. Franklyn wants to see me, officially, to do a handover from my control of the company since he's been ill. He sent me a text, and I must reply soon.”

He nodded. “I'm not surprised by his method to try to lure you to meet with him. Franklyn is a manipulative creature. What do you want to do?”

“I don't want to see him. There is no way I ever want to be alone in a room with Franklyn again. I can give him all the information he needs in an e-mail. I couldn't stand to meet him in person. ”

“Then send him a message to say that is exactly what you will do. Tell him I am taking you away to recover from the strain of running his damn company, and you won't be available to meet him. Like it or lump it, he'll have to accept what you say.”

“Away, Magnus? Really?”

There was no reason why not, and every reason to take her to the mountains. He could remove her from the situation with Gorsewell and give her peace for a few days. Together they could prepare for what she wanted. At some point, she'd have to challenge the summit. “Yes, we could go this evening.”

They'd have to return here come the full moon, in fact a few days before, but in the meantime, he could take her somewhere peaceful, protective, and treasured by his family for generations. A part of his past that carried the hope of his future. “There is a small cottage we could visit in Wales. The accountant's office has a property manager who usually rents it out for me over the summer months. I've not been there for a very long time. I'll call him. We'll go there. Would going away to a secret address help you to feel safe and out of Gorsewell's reach?”

“Please. The more distance we can put between Franklyn and us the better. I can fight him off in the dreams if I don't have to worry about him turning up here, or forcing me to meet with him.”

His heart flipped, for her strength of mind shook him. The understanding Sian still allowed him into her life, when she might have fought him, added a further depth to his appreciation. “Then it shall be so. I'll make the call to the accountant's office now. I want you to relax and unwind for a while. When I've made all the arrangements, we'll pack. We can travel to the cottage tonight.”

“Isn't it a bit short notice for the people who manage the property?”

He laughed. “No. If I want to go there, I assure you they will see the place is ready for me. We'll leave a note for Mrs. Tyson and Cook. I'll tell them to do a spring-cleaning while we're away.”

“But, Magnus, it's November.”

“Then an autumn clean. I only want to give them something to do so I can pay them.”

The tenderness he yearned to see appeared in her eyes.

“You are amazing,” she whispered.

He couldn't answer for he'd no way to find the right words. Later, he'd try to show her in some small measure how much she meant to him.

As he walked to the study, one thought blasted through his head. If Sian were to leave him, he'd not wish to live. If he took her to the mountains, she'd be safe from Gorsewell. In addition, she'd be in the right place to learn some of what she'd need to know as his mate.

I
have
to
make
her
mine.
If
I
wait
too
long
there
are
so
many
dangers
to
her
and
to
us.
I
can
procrastinate
no
longer.

His newly discovered mature persona demanded an alpha female. He would defend her in both body and dreams. Sian would be his cofounder of a new pack. She was his perfect mate. He'd do everything he could to keep her, and Gorsewell would be damned to a living hell if he tried to touch her.

Chapter 17

Sian couldn't relax. Their discussion kept repeating in her head, fueling a muddle of fear and hope. Along with the rest raced the nagging threat of a Franklyn who might be so much worse than she'd ever known before. What might a werewolf in a low depressive mood be like? What could happen if he had one of his high “master of the universe” flips? No one was going to calm that down with a cinnamon dolce latte. What if he changed after he'd indulged in his little white powder habit? The thought of a creature as powerful as Magnus in wolf form, perhaps speeding, filled with all that crazy energy, shook her. She could scarce sit still on the long, leather sofa.

Prioritize. She'd learned a lot about doing that, and she'd start this minute.

She'd deal with Franklyn first, then she'd be free to think on the other things. The magnitude of her conversation with Magnus rolled in her gut. Though he'd not said the words, she sensed either the threat to her, or the circumstances, had pushed him to decide their future. Grabbing her phone, she opened the text from Franklyn. Slow and careful, she constructed a reply to build a wall against Franklyn's request to see her. No need to tell him where she would be or give him any clues.

She didn't like putting Evie in the spotlight, even if the blond receptionist made doe-eyes at Franklyn every time he walked in the office, but everything Franklyn needed sat in the files Evie had on her computer.

She wouldn't lie and wish him well. Not now. Not ever. Text sent she could deal with the rest. At present, knowing Franklyn had come here and what he'd done, her sense of security in the house had been rattled. She didn't want Magnus to nursemaid her all the time. It wouldn't be right if he did. She had to work out a way of dealing with Franklyn's vileness herself.

She'd make sure Franklyn couldn't intrude in their physical world. Though she'd not done so since the day she bought it, she turned the phone off. She'd send him the e-mail from her iPad one day this week. Darn it, she should feel the weight of Franklyn's threats gone, but she didn't. He clung to her like the stink from some of the sleazier nightclubs he'd taken her to when she was younger.

Eager for something to take her mind off those memories and any others involving Franklyn, she went up to their room to pack some clothes to take to the cottage. Warm things would probably be best. Perhaps, there would be the chance for her to pick up some walking boots while they were away.

She hauled her vacation bag from the armoire and took it back into the bedroom. They'd be away for several days so she'd pack a mix of things she could layer. By the time Magnus came into the bedroom, she'd several outfits in the bag.

“All will be ready when we arrive. Make sure you pack a waterproof jacket.”

“I have, and a lot of warm things.”

He smiled. “There is heating in the cottage, but yes, warm clothes will be good for when we go into the hills.”

She embraced him. “I thought so. I'll need some walking boots. I don't have anything suitable for winter hill-walking.”

Magnus brushed his lips across her cheek. “We'll call in at the local town. They have an excellent mountaineering shop with all the best equipment.” He glanced to his wristwatch. “It will take us about four hours to drive to the cottage, longer if we stop for something to eat on the way. I'll get my things. I think we should leave by four if possible.”

“I'll be ready. Oh, will I be able to get a Wi-Fi signal?”

He shook his head. “No.”

“Oh, I suppose we could pick up a hotspot somewhere so I could send Franklyn his wretched handover e-mail.”

“Yes, I expect we could, and perhaps will. There is nothing urgent he needs from you, is there?”

“Not really. The next major shoot isn't for several months. The rest of the stuff is small fry. His request for a handover is a poor excuse to try to get me to go see him. ”

“Then, we'll not mention him again today.”

She grinned. The sense of escape powered through her. “You're right. I'll not say another word about him. On the way, you can tell me all about this cottage.”

He caressed her cheek. “Indeed I will, but we both have to finish packing first.”

“Right. I'll race you!” She turned from him and began stuffing several pairs of thick socks into the corners of her bag.

Magnus went into room where the armoires and tallboys held their clothes. He had far more garments to choose from than she did. She didn't doubt for a minute she'd win the race to finish packing first. Her jaw fell when a few seconds later Magnus came back carrying a large army style holdall.

“You can't have packed already!”

He smiled. “In one sense you're right. I didn't pack. This bag was packed some time ago.”

She caught the unhappiness in his stance, a flash of it in his eyes, too. “Who packed the bag? Why does the thought sadden you?”

“Until quite recently, I had a valet.” He smiled again. “I can hide nothing from you. Nathaniel Broomfield was a gentleman of considerable wisdom and charm. I was saddened to lose him, but couldn't ask him to continue to work. He'd gone well beyond retirement age in my service. His grandson wrote to inform me Nathaniel died a few short months after he left here.”

“I think I understand.” She crossed the room to put her arms around him. “This is one of the things you hate most isn't it?”

He drew a deep breath. “Indeed. I have always found the loss of those who I like and enjoy a wicked part of my condition. After Nathaniel, I told myself there would be no more.” He bowed his head until his forehead rested heavy on hers.

“I think we make a pact, Magnus. I'm not going to mention the manipulative ex-boss,”—she angled her head so she could look into his eyes—“and you aren't going to tell me anymore horrible things about who and what you are.”

He raised his head. “Am I as bad as that?”

She nodded. “Sometimes.”

“I didn't realize.”

“I know. I think it's because you've never really spoken about it to anyone. Or not for a long time, at least. Now you can't stop.”

“Whoo.” He blew out a long breath. “Your wisdom astonishes me. I accept your pact. I'll not mention any negatives again, no matter the provocation.”

She clutched him and squeezed. “We'll have some days where we can be us, just us.”

He clasped her tight, tugging her closer against him, covering her lips with his. Closing her eyes, she lost herself in his kiss, pressed her body hard against him to relish the way he could overturn any thoughts but those of making love.

He pressed small warm kisses along her jaw until he reached her ear. “I promise, while we are in Wales, we will speak of us, the future, and love.”

A thrill shook through her with the warmth of his whisper. She looked up, met the tenderness in his glance, and suddenly nothing else in the world mattered.

“The sooner we leave, the better.”

She nodded. She ached for him and could think of nothing else. Until the physical need was satiated, everything else could wait.

* * * *

The utter blackness of the November night kept her eyes focused on the beam from the Range Rover's headlights. Magnus stroked her inner thigh, as the automatic gears didn't need his help. The tender caresses sensitized her skin. She wished she'd not worn leggings. If he didn't stop soon, she'd demand he pull over to soothe her potent desire for his touch. The car climbed the road into the mountains. Hopeful she didn't appear too anxious for more of him, she murmured, “Is there much farther to go?”

His smile caged her heart and sent a flash of palpitations through to her loins.

“A little longer, half an hour maybe, perhaps a little more,” he said, as they rounded a sharp bend in the road. He glanced to her with a wry smile. “I'd prefer to use manual from here on in, so you'll have to wait for me.”

No other person ever read her mood, mind, and thoughts the way he did. She would wait for him for however long it took. Nothing but Magnus mattered. She traced a finger over the links and gems following the Greek key design. Magnus and she were like the bracelet, intertwined, bound beyond separation. She raised her glance to him but kept the words inside. He might hear the thought anyway.

His profile, as he studied the dark road ahead, brought the images of castle towers and knights of old to mind. She smiled at the sheer folly of such romancing. Their relationship had its own dragons to deal with, or creatures like Franklyn, in man or wolf-form.

She shuffled in her seat, adjusted the belt, concentrated on the darkness outside the windows and the branches of trees lit briefly by the headlights as the car passed. There must be something, other than the rash of worries, to focus on during their journey.

“Oh,” she whispered when Magnus slowed the car and pulled into a tree-lined driveway. “You said the place was a cottage.”

He glanced across with a grin. “My father always referred to this as ‘the cottage,' and the name stuck.”

A round tower loomed ahead. The massive construction of stone and mortar had a crenellated top. Several small vertical windows were lit by the car's headlights. “But, Magnus, this is a castle.”

“No, this is what is known as a castellated tower. The Welsh borders have many of them. The people who lived during the era when the tower was erected preferred the protection of good solid walls.” He turned the ignition off, leaned across, and kissed her.

Sian cupped his jaw with her palms, unwilling to allow this kiss to be a short and simple affair. Her heart took up a quickened beat, her nipples throbbing as he stroked down her back. She ached for more of his caresses.

“Soon.”

The thought echoed in her mind as Magnus lifted his mouth from hers. “It's cold out here. We'll be warmer indoors.”

He got out of the Range Rover, walked to her side, and opened her door. She stepped out into his embrace.

“I hope you enjoy this place.”

Something in his glance to the tower showed her the importance of being here. “You'll need to tell me the story behind the cottage.”

“I will, but not now. We'll go in. I'll fetch the bags.” He released her and opened the car to take out their luggage. “The key will be under the blue flowerpot. Could you get it?”

She walked across the dark flagstones, and in the dim light from a lamp above the door, lifted a small blue flowerpot filled with winter heather. A key, the like of which she'd never seen, sat there as he'd said. The enormous lump of iron she picked up weighed heavy in her palm. “Wow. This must be handmade.”

Magnus nodded as he set the bags down in the porch and accepted the key from her. “Yes, I've never thought about it, but you're right. I think it probably dates back to sometime in the sixteenth century.”

“That old?”

He smiled so the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepened. “Yes, that old.” He bent, angling his head, and kissed her. A hundred thoughts spun away from the age of the place when his lips teased hers.

“Was this place home to your parents?”

He shook his head. “Not home, a retreat if you will. They used it as a hunting lodge for some time.”

“Hunting?”

“Yes.” He turned the key in the lock and pushed the nail-studded slab of oak open. “Come in.”

She held his dark gaze for what seemed like an age. The invitation to enter here held a special kind of magic, something she sensed deep inside her. “Happily.”

Magnus flipped on a light switch. She entered a circular room and inhaled the scent of polish and flowers, both mingling with the mysterious fragrance of aged oak. Dark wood paneling covered the lower half of the walls. A wide stone hearth with a curved fire back contained logs arranged above kindling in the fire basket. Nearby stood a large brass, banded bucket contained more. Red drapes hung at the small windows and at two doorways set in arches, recessed in the wall.

“Roses.” She stepped across the rug to an ebony table where she reached out to caress one of the velvety, blood-red blooms in a cut crystal vase.

He set their bags down with a smile. “Yes, there should be wine cooling, too, perhaps in the kitchen. I'll go and check.” He crossed the room to go through a door.

As she unzipped her jacket, the distinctive pop of a champagne cork came from another room. The impression of a special occasion thrilled her, and a spark of excitement gave way to a wedge of anticipation. There was more to being here than just an escape from Franklyn, or taking a few days to relax. He hadn't told her everything, and she'd not felt his thoughts since she crossed the threshold.

Magnus returned carrying a tray, loaded with ice bucket, and two champagne glasses. He set the tray on the table, poured, and handed her a glass. A moment later he lifted his in salute. “To you.”

She sipped a mouthful of the heady fizz. “Thank you.”

“You have no need to thank me. I'll light the fire.” He set his glass back on the tray and moved to the hearth. The scratch of matches was followed by small bright flames that crept up along the kindling to play on the first of the piled logs.

She breathed a sigh as the firelight warmed the room with its glow. The tangy scent of pine smoke reached her. “This is an incredible place.”

Magnus turned to her from the hearth. “I had hoped you would find it so.”

His eyes, for the briefest second, appeared as she'd seen them in his wolf-form, and a rush of emotion hit her full-on, so she swayed, reaching for the solid table. This place was linked to them becoming a permanent couple. “I want to be your mate.”

He held her gaze. One of the logs crackled. “I know.”