What about you? - 20

Chapter 20

By the time Kate had finished her second drink she was far more relaxed, and far less angry. Everything Mason had said made sense, she knew she would’ve been angry if he’d started to pester her before she was ready, and if she’d known he was going to be here for Christmas she would have tried to worm her way out of coming. She’d didn’t like the fact that he seemed to play her so well, but play her he had. Now he was lavishing attention and time on her and it was going to her head.

                “So don’t your family mind that you’re not with them for Christmas?” The words shattered the cocoon of deep thought she’d settled in.

Looking up at Mason she smiled, he was such a beautiful man he was a pleasure to look at, “I’ve not spent Christmas with them since the accident I don’t think. I was there yesterday, it was a compromise. But in answer to your question we have had several rows about it, even yesterday!”

He nodded knowingly, “but this is the last year?”

It was half question half statement of fact, and she knew if he was still in her life then he’d not allow any other outcome. “I haven’t told my mother everything on so many levels, but I have told her that I’m going to be around more. My father died a year ago, this is my mother’s first Christmas without him...I should’ve been there.”

                “But you spend your life trying to please others so what you want doesn’t happen.” It was a simple summary of the last five years and she nodded, feeling those telltale tears well. They were never far away when Mason was about.

                “I did what I thought was right Mason, please don’t beat me up over this anymore.”

He smiled, “I don’t want to beat you up, I’m just still trying to work out why you’ve done it all these years. It doesn’t seem the most logical thing to me. But I’m glad too that you’ve decided to change that. It’s not a healthy relationship Kate, him taking everything and giving nothing back.”

She sighed, for so many years he had indirectly given her the ability to counteract her guilt. The guilt was still there, in some way, but just how much penance can one person serve?

                “Mason, it is what it is. Can’t we just get past it? I can’t stand here and justify things to you that you probably won’t understand. As I said to my brother just last night, if I could turn back time I’d do the same again for him, and that is all I can say about it.”

Mason watched her, the determined bottom lip, the defiance in her eyes, she was begging him to question her, she was spoiling for another fight, and whilst the thought of verbally duelling with her excited him, they had to get through a formal dinner when they got home and he couldn’t manage that if he was desperate to win the battle by dragging her into bed, because that was what this was. An unspoken battle for control of the relationship that seemed to be developing. He didn’t care whether she thought she was the winner or not, he just wanted it to continue.

As they left the pub and started the walk back, Mason linked his fingers through hers. They both wore gloves, which made the contact decidedly less electric, but she didn’t pull away and they settled into some sort of truce, at least until later. He ignored that thought, they had to get through dinner first.

Back at the house the smells of roasting turkey, stuffing, honey roast parsnips, delicious gravy all assaulted the nostrils in a very seductive way. Feeling like the Bisto kids now that the alcohol had fuelled their hunger, they both threw off their outer clothes and followed their noses to the dining room.

Margaret and Clarissa were laying out the table as they burst into the room, “something smells...divine!” Mason announced and the two older women turned around proudly.

                “Well it’s tasting pretty divine too!”

Clarissa clapped hands excitedly, “Call Peter! We’ll sit for dinner!”

                “I’ll get him.” Mason left the room to find Peter, Kate turned and helped the women lay out dinner and fill the glasses with wine and water. They were ready to sit when the two men returned. Peter was laughing at something Mason had said, then his eyes lit up as he saw Kate.

                “Can I sit by you?”

It was a large table in an extremely large room so the five of them sat to one end of the table. Peter next to Kate, Mason at the head of the table.

The conversation was easy and they were all a little tipsy as they demolished a ridiculously large amount of food. Kate was struggling to control her emotions, every few minutes Peter would ask her something, demand her attention. Kate was happy to oblige, and the occasional little touch from Mason to her elbow or thigh created a real diversion. It was only a hint of a touch, but her body was highly tuned, waiting for the next fleeting contact. It was all so mind consuming that she could barely follow the conversations and direction around the table.

Every now and again Mason would glance sideways at her and smile, fully aware of the devastation he was causing to her, without her being able to criticise him.

Once they’d all sat back, hands linked over full stomachs, Margaret broke the silence, “that was amazing Clarissa darling! I don’t know how we do it every year!”

Mason and Kate chuckled, before Kate replied, “it is an amazing feast as always!” Standing and stretching, she then circled the table topping up the glasses then collecting the dishes. “I’ll be doing the dishes though, you two deserve to relax!”

The women started to protest, but Mason agreed emphatically, “no! That’s the least we can do.”

As Kate carried the plates through to the kitchen, she was aware of Mason just a few steps behind her. In the seclusion of the kitchen she was suddenly extremely nervous.

                “What?” she turned and snapped at him.

Mason merely laughed as he started to load the dishwasher, “I think I’m quoting you in saying it is what it is Kate. And I am what I am!”

She watched him filling the machine with the plates and serving bowls from the table, not sure how to respond. She knew she was being childish, snapping at him, taking out her anger on him, but it was such a fraught situation, and frankly that was the only way she knew she’d survive the time there in that house.

                “I’ll bring in dessert!” she called through to the dining room, and was putting a pot of coffee on when she sensed Mason’s presence behind her. Her whole body started to thrum, every inch aware of the warmth of his body just a small step behind her. “Don’t Mason...” the protest was a whisper, and she knew it was as much a warning to herself as him. She had had a few drinks, it was Christmas, she was emotional...and he was there, all strong and determined. A recipe for sure disaster.

He laid a hand on her waist and replied, “I told you, I will be a perfect gentleman until you ask for more. And I’m a man of my word...doesn’t mean I’m going to make this easy for you!”

Groaning, she looked down at the work surface, her knuckles were white where they gripped the edge, tension filled every cell in her body. She fought the desire to lean back into him, to let his body touch hers, take the weight from her. She half wished they could both disappear away from this environment.

Feeling her bottom lean back into his groin, Mason chuckled in her ear, “You’ll never last the evening...you’re more desperate than me!”

That infuriated her, she hated how pout of control she felt around him, and hated that he seemed to mock her with his words. As if reading her mind, if not the sudden tension in her body, he kept his lips touching her bare neck as he murmured, “and that’s not a criticism. For a minute I just thought I was the only one wishing we were alone.”

Taking a deep breath, to steady her nerves, she turned to face him. “Mason please, this is neither the time nor the place for any of this.”

Raising an eyebrow he studied her briefly before dropping his lips to brush her collar bone. She couldn’t do anything but throw her head back and groan. Kate’s hands gripped his shoulders trying to stabilise herself for a few seconds, then hearing a noise from the hallway she pushed him away dramatically.

At that second Mason’s mother Margaret, burst into the kitchen, “Peter’s DESPERATE for dessert! Where’s the Christmas pud?”

Kate turned back to the coffee, trying to hide the extreme flush of heat that had swept over her neck and shoulders. That was far too close, and to make it worse Mason was talking to his mother in a composed and light hearted manner. How he infuriated her.

Back in the dining room nothing had changed and Kate found that fact bizarre after the emotion filled incidents in the kitchen with Mason. Clarissa and Peter still sat waiting for their dessert, their glasses half full, the Christmas CD still pumped tunes out and the fire still crackled.

Laying the pudding and brandy in front of the lady of the house, she retook her seat. Mason brought the tray of coffee and lastly Margaret his mother arrived with the after dinner mints. Kate found it so difficult to concentrate on the rich pudding or the wine, or the inane conversation. She found herself drawn to Mason’s hands, his long fingers as he used his spoon to eat the pudding. 

Kate stood, “excuse me!” Then left the room before sprinting to the nearest bathroom. There she sat on the closed toilet lid, and laid her scorching cheeks in her hands. What the hell was happening to her? She was always so calm and in control. Now, here, she was in pieces, a gibbering wreck, all because of Mason. There was nothing else for it. She’d had to give in to this urge, at least try and get past this overpowering and uncontrollable desire. It was obvious that she couldn’t continue like this, she was worse than useless.

Splashing cold water over her face and taking several steadying deep breaths, she opened the door back into the hallway, then froze as she saw Mason lounging against the wall opposite. Before she could explode at this stalker-like behaviour, he held up a hand.

                “Aunt Clarissa insisted I checked on you, she thought you might be unwell.” The smirk on his face told her he didn’t agree with that. In fact she knew that he knew exactly what was wrong with her.

She nodded, “I’m sure she did.”

 The reserve from a few seconds earlier in the bathroom seemed to have disappeared as she squirmed in his knowing gaze. At that moment she gave up.

                “Ok Mason. You win! I can't fight you any more. I'll agree. Everything you say is true.”  

With that she started to walk away from him towards the dining room. Suddenly this wasn't what Mason had wanted, surrender, her giving in. He loved the fight, the spirit and the strength of Kate. Before she’d even realised that he’d circled her wrist with his hand, he’d tugged her, catapulting her into his hard body.

She had time to gasp for just a second before his lips descended on hers. It was like coming home, this is what she’d been craving all day and within seconds she matched his passion and fervour, her tongue duelling with his, lips devouring his. It was a snatch of heaven in a mentally traumatic day and she melted into it.

Eventually he pulled away, his arms still wrapped around her, hazy lust-filled eyes meeting hers.

                “As much as I want to finish this now, I do agree with you that we have to do the right thing. But tonight, ok? We’ll sort something out, I promise.” He was content, she did want him, the passion and the fire was there and the thought excited him more than he imagined. 

His expression, his own lack of control and the rather obvious signs of desire pressed against her belly gave her a new confidence, “You’d better!” she snapped back then broke into a beaming smile, “You’ve been teasing me for too long...time for my revenge!”

With an elaborate wink, she rushed away from him leaving him floundering for a change.