Free Dark Desire by Lauren Dawes Page B

her for a moment before he shook his head as if to clear it. “Yeah. She.” He looked at the dog again, whose tongue was lolling out of the side of her mouth. Eir giggled at the sight of the dog’s angry owner and the seemingly unperturbed canine.
    A smile broke out on the man’s face at the sound of her laughter, abruptly stopping her.
    “No, don’t stop,” he said. “You have a beautiful laugh.”
    Eir sighed. “I don’t have anything to laugh at right now, I’m afraid,” she admitted, dropping her eyes from the intensity of his hazel gaze.
    “Do you mind if …”
    Eir saw he was gesturing toward the seat beside her. “Please,” she replied, acknowledging his request.
    She watched as he made himself comfortable. He was wearing a pair of sweatpants, sneakers and a comfortable-looking jacket with a hood.
    “I’m Mason,” he said, “and that is Sophie,” he added, gesturing at the dog, who was yet to move from Eir’s feet.
    “Sophie? She’s beautiful. What kind of dog is she?”
    Mason smiled, his eyes crinkling a little in the corners. “A German shepherd. A highly intelligent, loyal and mostly well-behaved dog. She’s been with me for over nine years now.” He rubbed her head affectionately.
    “Mostly well-behaved?” Eir inquired.
    “Mostly, but not always, because she disobeyed my order for her to stay when she came running over here to you.”
    “Oh!” Eir gasped. “I’m so sorry.”
    “It’s not your fault,” Mason replied. “Sophie obviously knew something was wrong, so she came over to help.”
    “What do you mean?” Eir replied, her voice soft, her eyes lowered.
    Mason paused. “Sophie’s a therapy dog. She helps me with … some ongoing issues I’ve been having.”
    Eir had heard of pets as therapy animals before, but didn’t want to push Mason for any more details. He didn’t look like he wanted to talk about his problems.
    “I see,” she said cautiously, still staring at Sophie. The dog crept forward a little and rested her head on Eir’s lap. Eir lifted her hand, but hesitated, turning to look at Mason for permission.
    Eir rested her hand gently on top of Sophie’s head, right between her ears.
    “You have a beautiful smile,” Mason murmured, jolting Eir; the smile she had been unconsciously wearing melted away. “What’s your name?” he asked when she had the nerve to look up at him again.
    “Eir,” she practically whispered. She wasn’t sure what it was about this man, but she found herself drawn to him … perhaps it was just because of his beautiful dog and his overwhelming sadness.
    “It’s nice to meet you, Eir,” he said, offering her his hand. As she took it in her own, Mason’s eyes suddenly widened, and Eir felt a familiar warmth against her palm.
    She slid out of his grasp and stood up, nervously smoothing non-existent wrinkles from her coat and pulling its collar closer around her neck. Sophie walked back two paces and sat down again, staring at her. It was uncanny how in tune the dog was with Eir’s feelings, but she shouldn’t have been surprised. Animals were very receptive to strong emotions and hers were all over the place—so all over the place that she had inadvertently begun taking away some of the pain Mason had been feeling, out of habit, without conscious thought.
    Mason was flexing his hand into a fist over and over again. “What just happened?” he asked, staring at her in awe.
    “I …” Oh, no. “I have to go. I’m sorry.” Eir threw the words at him over her shoulder as she rushed away. She had to get out of there. Fresh tears began leaking from her eyes and she wiped them away.
    “Hey! Eir! Wait, please,” Mason called out after her.
    She didn’t know what it was about him—the tone of his voice or the compassion she could sense in him—but she stopped, her chest heaving up and down. He touched her shoulder as he reached her, and Eir found herself relaxing against his hand.
    “I’m sorry if I upset you,” he