Tattoo

Seamus stood for a moment and watched Sian sleep. He caught his breath, as he always did, when he looked at her. They could have been parted for days, hours or even seconds yet it wouldn’t matter. Each time it was like the first time of attraction and hope. No other woman called out to his soul as she did. He was in love with her. It was simple, true, real. It was a love requiring nothing more than being close to each other and reveling in the sanctuary each provided the other. He was very tempted to go back to bed, to take her in his arms once more and drive Sian crazy with what she needed. He’d never met a woman who enjoyed being made to submit as much as Sian. It drove him on to do crazy things to please her.
“But not yet.” He had to deal with someone he had always known, one day, would become a problem. He turned from the woman he loved and walked naked to the window and looked out. That it was cool, he barely noticed. He had other things on his mind. It had been hard pretending the simple conversation Sian had with him about the woman she saw with the same tattoo as hers could have been just anyone. He knew who she was.
Seamus saw a shape move in the darkness. He knew it was her. The dark woman. Meredith. He blew out a breath. “This is so bloody complicated,” he muttered softly, hearing Sian murmur in response. He smiled quickly. That was the way with them. They were attuned to react instantly to each other. “Hush, baby. All is well.” She sighed and drifted off once more. Seamus rubbed at the pain in the back of his neck where a tattoo exactly like Sian’s was scored into his flesh. His had been done as a ritual. It was to do with family. Tradition. Honor. It always burned when there was trouble.
The tattoo was a simple design. It was his family crest dating back centuries. It was Celtic in origin and a knot made up of two individual strands that could not be broken nor could a break or a join be seen in each carefully inked line. It symbolized entwined souls destined to be forever. It was what the McDonagher house was built on. Strong partnerships with people who knew no fear. He looked over at Sian. She was fearless. She was also the one he wanted. Meredith? She was so long ago and he felt nothing for her.
“But she won’t let go.” And she had to. They both knew it. Lust and infatuation was not the material the bound souls together. Meredith was wild and exciting. Once she had fired his blood to the point of frenzy. He hadn’t been able to get enough of her. Like a great hunger he craved her to the point of madness. His great Aunt Cassiopeia had seen that and warned him.
“She’s not the one for you.”
“But I feel so alive with her.”
“Death and life are very much alike, nephew. They’re opposite signs of the same coin yet one cancels out the other and neither can sustain the other.”
“You don’t understand.”
“Oh but I do. Passion can drive you mad. It makes your body wild with desire, your heart pounds and you want to believe the one who drives you on is your soul mate because only she could make you feel that way. But she isn’t. Soul mates are more than just sex—and yes, nephew, I remember very well what sex is like.”
“Aunt—”
“True love comes only once to a man. And oh yes, I’m sure you’ve thought yourself to be in love with many but has one left you breathless?”
“What?”
“Has a woman stopped your breath and made you look at her like she was something you’d never seen before and scared if you let her out of your sight she’ll be gone forever and you’d perish because of it?”
“’Sounds overly dramatic to me.”
“That’s because you haven’t met her yet so you don’t understand.”