Beauty's Cursed Beast

by Mary E. Twomey

  Belle let out a tinkling laugh that relaxed them both. It didn’t take more than a bat of her hand at his wicked grin to dismiss her reservations. She pulled the comforter up to her chin, her head resting atop his outstretched arm. For several moments, their eyes danced with playfulness, sparking something precious and tender between them.

  He brushed a stray lock of hair that had fallen slack from her bun, tucking it behind her ear. “Are you still dizzy?”

  Belle had been feeling slightly steadier as the warmth chased away the cold. Her voice was quiet as she drank in the wonder of his emerald eyes up close. “I think I’m feeling better now.”

  He held her gaze for a few beats, and then drew her closer, loving the feel of her body molding to his in their cozy haven. “How about now?”

  Belle rested her temple to his cheek, letting the crackle of the fire lull her into a wealth of relaxation. “Mm… Perfection.”

  When the oversized bathrobe fell off her shoulder, he was quick to slide it back into place. “As long as I’m here, you’ll never be cold again,” he promised quietly. “The thought of you wearing those thin scrubs in the snow sent me into the early stages of a panic attack.”

  “Don’t be cold,” she whispered. “The snow, I can handle. When you turn frosty on me, it’s the worst kind of slow death.”

  He nodded once, as if sorting his thoughts into a proper working order, pushing out selfishness to make room for her wellbeing. His chest swelled with the pride in accepting a commission that resonated deep within his soul. “I can keep you warm, Belle.”

  As Adam flipped open the leather-bound book and began to read to her, he vowed he would never again be caustic with the woman who was brave enough to snuggle up to the beast.

  19

  The Nature of Gabe Aston

  Belle woke to sweat that, upon closer inspection, she realized wasn’t hers. “Adam?” She had fallen asleep in his arms, and found herself curled up in his embrace while he spooned her. She twisted in the sheets and felt his forehead, swearing at the heat that was far too much. “Okay, we’ve got to get this robe off you.”

  Adam groaned, in the throes of a fever so grand that he scarcely comprehended her words. They’d fallen asleep to the sound of him reading Edgar Allen Poe, contentedly wrapped in each other after the far too eventful day they’d barely survived. Belle chided herself for not noting that Adam’s docile and gentle behavior while he read to her in bed should have been an indicator that he was being taken down by a virus.

  She went through her nurse’s list of taking care of a patient, not skimping on even the basics. Lucien brought her a washcloth, which was kept cool by dipping it into the ice bucket on Audra’s tea tray. Since Adam wasn’t aware enough to be caustic, Belle was able to perform a cursory medical examination, assessing his breathing, musculature, ears, nose and throat from a clinical angle. She’d never worked on animals, but longed to have a docile wolf to study to see if the abnormalities she was noting were simply because he was getting closer to his transition.

  It was a terrible thing to bear, this curse that slowly stripped his humanity away from him. Belle touched his cheek, admiring the shorter chestnut beard that was more fur than facial hair. It was soft, begging her to stroke it again and again. Belle found herself studying his lips longer than any medical professional would deem necessary.

  She only drifted from Adam’s bedside for twenty-minute stints – gathering his mail, slowly making her way through cleaning the room next to hers, so she could hear him if he roused.

  It wasn’t until two days after their catastrophic fight that Adam felt well enough to demand he be able to get back to work.

  “Well, since you asked so nicely… No,” Belle spouted back as she polished the fixture while perched atop the ladder in the receiving room. “Can I ask you a question?”

  “I highly doubt saying ‘no’ would stop you.”

  “This is the third living room I’ve cleaned. Why do you have so many?”

  Adam motioned around to the make-believe masses. “To welcome all my many adoring fans, of course.”

  Belle let out a one-noted laugh. “Hilarious. If I had a house like this, no way would I let it go to waste. You should have a ball.”

  “A ball?” Adam repeated with distaste. “You must be joking.”

  “It would be nice to see people appreciating all these gorgeous rooms. Did you know you have a vase from the Artrarian Era in the second living room?”

  “You don’t say. Then we should invite droves of people over, so they can knock it over and shatter my mother’s collection of vases.”

  Belle rolled her eyes at his grumping. “I’m not sure why you’re dressed for work,” she said of his khaki pants and lavender dress shirt. “I’m not giving you back your laptop, phone, or the key to your office. That’s going to stay nice and hidden until I say you’re better.”

  Adam’s upper lip curled, trying to appear menacing. Both of them were too companionable to really believe his attempt to intimidate her. He dropped the act when she merely sniggered and went back to polishing the brass fixture on the wall.

  “You’re a bit overdressed for housework.”

  “If that’s a compliment, you should put a little more sugar on it next time. ‘Belle, you’re so beautiful. Everything you do is art.’” Since her suitcase with her clothes was lost in her snow-ridden car, Simone had let herself run free with Belle’s new wardrobe. She adjusted the green strap of her dress. It showed off her trim waist and belled out at her hips, making her look truly feminine and far fancier than a housekeeper normally dressed while on the job. She wore a beige apron over the gown so as not to get it dusty. “You can thank Simone for my new outfits. Not quite me, but since I have nothing else, I’ve decided not to complain.” She waggled her eyebrows at him. “Do you want me to put on a musical for you? I’m certainly dressed for it.”

  “I’ll pass. Where’s my laptop?”

  Belle’s eyes rose to the ceiling, as if wondering where she’d stashed it. “I think you’ll have to beg me.”

  Adam clenched his fists, his shoulders tensing as he uttered a begrudging, “Please.”

  Belle pressed her hand to her heart and tried to hold back her laughter. “That looked painful.”

  “It was. And you’re my nurse; you’re not supposed to be the one inflicting pain. Give me my laptop.”

  “I prefer my begging in song.”

  Belle finished with the fixture and slowly lowered herself down the rung, not expecting Adam to actually comply with her whims. When a low voice drifted toward her to the tune of Sonata in A, Belle froze midway down the ladder, eyes wide.

  “Will you please give me my laptop? I need it so I can help you. After your father told me what Sheriff Sheriff Aston did, trying to evict you unlawfully, I alerted a few contacts at the Department of Criminal Investigation and the Department of Taxable Wages. I need to keep up with them, so we can put the criminal where he belongs. Far, far away from you.”

  Belle’s mouth was dropped open, flabbergasted that he’d actually sang, and that his reasons for wanting to work more were unselfish. “Are you serious?”

  Adam’s face was red, but he postured, as if daring her to laugh at his singing. “Did you really think I’d sit back and let the sheriff kick people out of their homes without a valid eviction notice? No wonder so many in the West Village haven’t been paying on their mortgage; he’s kicking them out prematurely so they can’t even try to catch up on the payments. He’s cheating me out of my revenue when he raises levies like that, too. That money’s going straight into his pockets, and the Department of Taxable Wages is closing in on him. No doubt he’s so buried in audits that he hasn’t had time to terrorize your father at all.”

  Belle’s feet touched on the floor, and she leaned her head on the side of the ladder, closing her eyes in worry. “You… I… Be careful, Adam.”

  Adam’s posture remained straight and gentlemanly. “Gabe’s the one who should’ve
been careful. I don’t fear common crooks.”

  Belle spoke with deliberate measure. “Gabe’s the kind of guy who takes what he wants. People who don’t comply end up…” She stopped herself, clutching the fabric over her breasts as if it was too thin to be considered a covering.

  Adam took a step forward and lightly tugged her away from the ladder. He drew so close, his nose almost touched hers. He stroked his thumb across her jaw, Pulsing a little of his ability to take away one’s inhibitions into her. “What did he do to you?”

  Belle searched for the words, but the pain that slashed across her face told him enough. She couldn’t work out a response, instead folding her arms across her breasts as if to cover them. Her chin bent downward, and her shoulders drew in to protect herself from the bitter chill of life.

  Adam curved his arm around her hips, bringing her in for a hug meant to shield her until the pain of her memories passed. “Those letters you get that you throw away. They’re from him, aren’t they.”

  Belle draped her arms around his waist, permitting her anxiety to rest in his embrace as her cheek pressed to his chest. How she could have used someone sturdy like him to shield her from all the bad things in life when they threatened to bury her. “Mm-hm. When Gabe wants something he can’t have, he steals it. He stole me two years ago. Stole what wasn’t his.” She shuddered against Adam, the story itself making her feel icy inside.

  Adam cupped the back of her head, raking his fingers across her scalp to soothe her. “Tell me what he did.”

  Belle couldn’t say the words aloud. Though the receiving room didn’t have any listening ears nearby, Belle whispered to Adam all the ways Sheriff Aston had pursued her, stalking her, impounding her car whenever he found out she had a date with someone else, and how he’d given her the option of going away for a weekend with him in order to forgive the newest fine that year that would have bankrupted her and her father. Gabe had taken her by force when he grew too frustrated by her cold shoulder.

  “Can you prove any of it?” Adam asked softly, his cheek pressed to hers. His hand found its way to the small of her back, as if he had the power to protect her from shadows.

  “I shouldn’t have to. I was the victim.”

  “Not prove it to me. If I bring in someone more official, could you testify against him?”

  “I tried when it happened, but you can’t exactly report the sheriff to the sheriff.” She thought for a moment, sifting through her mind for proof of all he’d done to her. “Gabe’s got a scar on the upper part of his right inner thigh,” Belle replied dryly. “No one would know it was there unless they’ve seen him naked.”

  Adam stiffened, fighting back all the rage that was on the brink of taking over. But he knew Belle didn’t need that right now. Holding her was the high point of his year, and he would gladly endure frostbite, frustration and his worst fears if it would give him a few minutes of her trusting him enough not to brace herself as she leaned her body’s weight onto him. “Right inner thigh?”

  “Yeah. Matches my hunting knife.”

  Adam chuckled, his chest vibrating against hers. “That’s my girl. I’ll need my phone back so I can make a few calls.”

  “You don’t have to. What’s done is done.”

  “That may be true, but at least what was done to you won’t happen to anyone else if we get him locked up.”

  Belle let loose a breath into his neck that she’d been holding onto for two years. Her exhale tickled his skin, unleashing a shiver of intrigue that rolled through him. “After that story, I think it’s time for you to lie down, and for me to be the one who brings you tea.”

  Belle shook her head. “I’m really fine. It is what it is. Plus, I want to finish up this room this afternoon.”

  Adam laced his fingers through hers, touching her knuckles to his cheek just to feel the softness in her that life hadn’t managed to stamp out. “Humor me.”

  He led her out of the living room and didn’t let go of her hand until he’d tucked her into the bed. He sat on the side of the mattress, sandwiching her hand between his. “I’m sorry the world was cold to you. How can I warm you up?”

  Belle’s eyes misted over. “Don’t say another nice thing to me. I can’t take it right now.”

  Adam frowned. “I promised you that you’d never be cold in my presence again. This very much applies.”

  “Damnit, Adam!” Belle wasn’t prone to emotional outbursts, but he stayed with her when her tears started to fall. He contented himself brushing her hair back from her face and dabbing at her cheeks with his handkerchief. He promised her all the ways he would make things right. Adam knew enough about himself to accept that he would do whatever it took to see those vows come to fruition.

  Adam had never put much stock in comforting women, but for the first time found that he couldn’t leave her side when she was in the slightest bit of pain. So he held her hand after she cried herself to sleep, making sure someone was there to watch over her and keep her warm, so she could finally rest.

  20

  A Second Dance

  Belle returned Adam’s laptop to him the next day. Each new morning presented her with a myriad of options for scrubbing down the place, so she cleaned another two rooms before she helped Chef Bouche prep for dinner.

  “What’s that smell?” Adam asked, popping his head into the kitchen.

  Audra was on the counter next to the stove, instructing Belle how to make the alfredo sauce. “It’s garlic.” When she picked up her head from her project, she was so surprised, she dropped the spatula into the pan. “Oh, wow.”

  Adam had shaved, and though the shorter beard that was only half an inch long would be its standard two inches by morning, the effort made him look younger, and more like a man. He looked down at his clothes curiously, wondering if he’d accidentally put his trousers on backwards or something. “That ‘wow’ better have been a compliment.”

  Belle swallowed thickly. “It was.”

  Adam’s chest puffed, but he said nothing more about it. “I can smell dinner all the way down the hallway, and it’s making me starving. How long until we eat?”

  Belle tore her eyes from his features, her cheeks rosy when she realized she’d been thinking how handsome he looked with his face more exposed. There were still the animalistic nuances, but this way he was about fifty-fifty between man and beast. “About twenty minutes. If you’re hungry, there’s some celery in the fridge.”

  Adam fished around in the refrigerator and pulled out a stalk, munching on it as he sidled up next to her and peered into the pan she was stirring. His free hand found its way to the small of her back, his insides warming when she leaned into him. “Mm. Satisfying,” he lied as he crunched the celery.

  Belle sniggered and bumped her hip to his. “It’ll tide you over. I’ve never made alfredo with parmesan and goat cheeses, but I’ve learned Audra’s never wrong.”

  “That’s right,” Audra spouted proudly.

  Adam knocked his hip to hers, and the two began to fight for space in front of the stove, their bodies battling like flirty teenagers. “Would you move it? I’m going to make a mess if you don’t knock it off.”

  Adam grinned at her, not holding back the more wolfish aspects of his smile. Usually he smiled with his mouth closed, but he didn’t mind letting the veil down around Belle. She never balked at his fangs. “You can’t stir a pot while someone’s bumping you? And I thought I hired an experienced housekeeper.”

  “You’re going to make me burn myself on the pan!” she giggled, putting the wooden spoon down so she could shove him with both hands.

  “Audra, Bouche – rally! This monster’s attacking your master!”

  Audra chortled at their playful nature, wondering to herself when the last time was that she’d seen Adam truly happy before Belle came into their lives.

  Before Belle could turn off the stove, Adam whisked her away from the pan, holding one arm out to the side while the other kept a firm command over his fav
orite spot – the small of her back. He didn’t hold back, but pressed her body to his.

  Belle had never been to a royal ball, and didn’t fall into the waltz easily. Her feet stumbled when their lack of natural rhythm battled with her desire to play. Still, she beamed up at him, feeling like a true lady. “I don’t know what I’m doing,” she admitted.

  “You’re dancing with me, and quite well, might I add. It’s no surprise; I’m terrific at leading.”

  Belle rolled her eyes at his self-flattery. After a few more beats of stepping on his toes, she pulled away and moved to turn off the stove. She hid her pink cheeks from view, lest he find out how special the simple dance was to her. “I’m a terrible dancer,” she admitted, motioning to the side of her head. “I’m partially deaf in my right ear, so I’ve never been all that great at catching rhythms.” Her eyes flicked to his, clearly embarrassed. “But thank you. Most men value their toes too much to dance with me.”

  “Dinner can wait. Let’s go test out that ballroom. I’ve got at least seven toes that are still functional. I haven’t danced with a woman in ages.”

  Though she wanted nothing more, Belle held up her finger to stop him. “First off, dinner. Secondly, I’m a terrible dancer, as we’ve already established.”

  His mouth fell open. “You truly won’t dance with me?”

  Belle took in his longing, wishing she was more adept at such things. “As your nurse, I think I should try to keep your toes from possibly breaking.”

  His eyes grew serious. “What will it take to get a dance with you in the ballroom?”

  “You’re truly the only man who’s ever asked me for a second dance. Are you sure you know what you’re getting yourself into?”

  “I know exactly what I’m doing,” he said with a slight smirk. “Please, Belle. Let me teach you.”

  Belle blew out a breath as she thought. “I worked real hard cleaning that ballroom. It should be filled with people, not just us.”