Beauty Submits To Her Beast

by Sydney St. Claire

  “I confess I only have eyes for you, sweet Belle.” Giving himself over to the magic of the setting, the music, and his woman, he laughed, twirled his goddess, and held her. He ignored the twinges in this thigh and hid the pain behind his laughter and smiles. Tonight was a night to be happy and to enjoy.

  He pulled her close and just breathed in her essence as they danced and swung her away from Bryce with his Cinderella. His friend looked totally besotted, and he was glad. The man’s first wife had been wonderful, never minded putting Damon up when he came home on leave, and made him feel wanted. Bryce deserved to find happiness and love again.

  Damon and Caitie danced, stopped to chat with the others, grabbed refreshments, and danced some more. His wound throbbed, but he kept going until he realized every time the music turned to a faster tempo, Caitlin made an excuse to stop. She was thirsty or she needed a break or she needed some fresh air.

  At the moment, they sat on the terrace, finishing a shared plate of cheese, crackers, and fruit. The cool summer breeze drifted around them, surrounding them with the scent of jasmine and moonshine. Part of him wished they could wander away, find a nice corner in the garden, and just talk and be alone, but he wouldn’t selfishly deny her the magical evening of costumes and dancing. The music started again, a fast tango. Curious to see what she’d do, he stood and held out his hand. “Shall we?”

  She smiled. “I’d love to. After I visit the ladies’ room. Need to wash my hands.”

  Not surprised by her maneuver, he bowed. “I’ll wait for you here.” He watched her glide gracefully around the dance floor, avoiding Red and her Wolf who were tangoing up a storm.

  Anger burned in his stomach like nitric acid eating through metal. He longed to be able to give Caitie the chance to shine. It infuriated him that he couldn’t move with the same energetic grace of the other couple, but worse, it devastated him to know that Caitie knew it as well.

  ****

  Caitie was surprised to find the ladies’ room larger than her bedroom at the ranch. She paused in the main section, which boasted four vanities complete with mirrors and lights. Each held baskets of brushes, combs, and small towels. Bottles of lotion and perfume lined the counters.

  She stared into the round mirror, saw her flushed cheeks and sparkling eyes. Had she ever had such a good time as tonight? The ball, the music, the formal attire of the guests had turned an ordinary evening into a magical, enchanted night of love.

  Her eyes widened. God, she couldn’t love Damon. She didn’t know him. She bit her lower lip. Okay, she knew parts of him very well, just as he was spot on when it came to pleasing her. The rest seemed unimportant. What did it matter whether his favorite color was red, blue, or yellow, or if he liked pasta, pizza, hamburgers, or was a steak and potato man?

  A maid at the far vanity smiled at her. “I’ll be with you in a minute, miss.” She was helping Rapunzel with her hair.

  “Thanks, I’m fine.” She headed down a short, mirror-lined hall into the toilet and sink area. She took the end stall. The sound of stall doors opening, followed by running water, then the chatter of two women drew her attention.

  “—didn't know he was going to be here. Sure would love to be his sub.”

  “Thought you said he didn’t take part anymore, not since his wife died.”

  “Doesn’t. First time I’ve seen him.”

  “Lucky Cinderella. Every woman here would love to have him for an entire weekend. Bryce Langston is one of the sexiest men alive. Rich as sin too. Can you imagine living here all the time? Sure would love to snag him.”

  “Won’t happen, Bo. He’s a Dom.”

  The voices faded away.

  Caitie grinned. Both Bryce and Glorie had interviewed her before accepting her application to join the event. Those two women were right. Bryce was handsome enough to be a fairy tale prince.

  Ready to leave her stall, she heard another voice call out, “Jaimie?”

  The crash of a stall door startled her, as did the raised voice.

  “You knew! You knew he was my prince.”

  The two women’s voices were muffled somewhat as they went into the other room. She cracked open her door, peeked out, and caught the sparkling blue of Cinderella’s gown and a slash of red from Red Riding Hood’s sassy and sexy dress. Cinderella, or Jaimie, was not happy.

  Caitie chewed her lower lip. “Great. Now what?”

  If she left the stall, she’d be revealing her presence, and if she didn’t leave, she’d be guilty of eavesdropping. Sighing, she leaned against the wall. Better to think of something else and wait for them to leave. Like how the hell she’d fallen for a man she’d just met.

  And there was no doubt. She was well on her way to falling in love with Damon. She wasn’t the romantic sort, didn’t believe in love at first sight, unlike her sister who was in and out of love and lust as though it were a revolving door.

  She sighed. All she’d wanted was a weekend of great sex. Well, she’d gotten that and more. It still shocked her to realized she liked having a masterful man—a Dom—at least in bed. No one had ever satisfied her so completely.

  She wondered what Damon had planned for them after the ball. And if she’d see him again after tonight. Tomorrow, she was scheduled to leave right after breakfast. The thought that the magical weekend was nearly done brought an ache to her heart.

  The sound of a door slamming told her the coast was clear. It was time to return to her beast, the ball, and whatever else awaited. She found Damon in the hall waiting for her. She held out her hand and let him lead her inside, relieved that the music was another slow, romantic melody.

  “I feel like I’ve stepped into the most incredible dream.” She sighed as she slid into his arms. “You’ve given me so much.”

  Damon swayed and rocked with her, the music requiring little more of him than to just hold her and sway. He debated telling Caitlin to stop treating him as though he might break. While he appreciated her care and concern, he was tempted to call her on it, tell her he didn’t need or want her pity. But not once had he seen any sign she felt sorry for him. She was, he realized, being sensible and stopping him from doing what he could no longer do.

  And that was the bee up his ass. He yearned for the illusion of being a prince, able to dance the night away with his princess. For the first time since being injured, he longed to pretend he was whole and normal. He wanted to be the beast, falling in love before his deadline so he could once again become a prince.

  Love? Could what he felt be more than a deep respect, could he want more than friendship? He stumbled. Caitie’s arms tightened.

  “I’m fine,” he lied. The punch of realization was a hard fist to his gut. He was drawn to Caitlin, was in all probability falling for his beautiful Belle, and like the Beast, he wanted the transformation back to normalcy. He desperately longed for the curse darkening his world to be lifted. She was the light chasing away the shadows, soothing the ravaged beast, calming the raging guilt tearing him apart. How could he face tomorrow without her in his life?

  “Damon, I meant what I said earlier. I don’t need this. I’d be just as happy to spend the evening alone, with you. And I’m not talking about sex. We could sit in that wonderful garden and just enjoy each other’s company.”

  “I like holding you, Caitlin, and dancing with you. You are more than I bargained for, and I don’t deserve you. Let me have my fantasy, for just a while longer.”

  “You deserve whatever makes you happy.” She cupped one side of his face with her hand. “Does it have to end tomorrow? Is there a reason why we can’t see each other after this weekend?”

  Staring into her eyes, Damon took that long, smooth dive into a pool murky with emotions. He plunged deep, the water closing over his head, the waters dark. He was a drowning man who couldn’t see the surface. He struggled with what he wanted and what was to be.

  He wanted to see Caitlin Olsen again, didn’t want to let her go, but what could he offer this self-assured, conf
ident woman who was in charge of her life? She had a ranch and a passionate purpose in life. He was a contractor with a struggling business. He had a tiny studio apartment and enough demons to populate Hell to the point of overcrowding. And his purpose? To survive each day. Shit, sometimes survival meant taking it one long, stinking hour at a time.

  Feeling his chest contracting painfully as though he were drowning, he stepped away when the music ended. In the distance, a clock chimed. Fuck. It was over. Time to run before he lost himself completely in this woman who offered salvation—and so much more.

  Echoes of the past buzzed in his mind, growing louder until all he could hear were screams and the blast of shells. Then came the images of grief-filled women and children. His heart pounded, and he couldn’t breathe. The edges of his vision darkened. There was no saving him, no peace for him. No woman who could save him, even from himself. He was a fool to get caught up in something unreal. None of this was real. It was a fairytale.

  “All good things end,” he said, his voice harsh.

  Damon whirled around. His thigh went into a screaming spasm, and he almost went down. Unwilling to let her or anyone see him vulnerable, he did what he did best these days. He mentally ran as though the devil and his hounds were snapping at his heels.

  ****

  Caitie’s first instinct was to run after him, but she did what she had to do. She let him go.

  “Most women would go after their man.” Glorie joined her, her eyes troubled as she watched Damon storm from the ballroom.

  “He’s not my man.” God, she wanted him to be hers, or at least, give them a chance to see where their friendship might lead. Caitie met the Domme’s worried gaze. “I can’t do it for him.”

  “Do what?”

  “I can’t give him permission to let go of the demons that haunt him. I’ve met many men with similar stories, men who hold onto their guilt and pain because they’re afraid to live and embrace the here and now because of the horrors of their past.” He might have finally lanced his wounds, but unless he kept at that wound, it would close back over and continue to fester.

  “You’re a wise woman, Caitlin.”

  Caitie felt sad as she left the ballroom. As she picked up the hem of her gown and ran down the stairs to the suite she shared with Damon, she felt like the prince in the fable, Cinderella. But in this story, she wasn’t a young woman with stars in her eyes, running before the clock finished chiming. Instead, it was her prince who’d fled the ball, and it would take a lot more than a glass slipper to bring him back to her where he belonged.

  Chapter Twelve

  Caitie strode through the mansion early Sunday morning. She found Hastings near the front door. “I need to speak to Glorie or Bryce.”

  Hastings bowed his head. “Wait here.”

  Caitlin paced until the butler returned.

  “If you’ll follow me, Miss Olsen.”

  She followed him down a long hall to a set of double doors. He swept his white-gloved hand out, indicating she should enter.

  Caitie stepped inside and found herself in a richly appointed office. Gleaming wood gave it an old world feel, but she noted the high tech equipment. Bryce Langston sat behind his desk. Glorie, the queen, sat in a chair to one side. Caitie realized she’d interrupted an intense meeting. Bryce didn’t look as though he’d slept—that was probably true of most of the participants—but he didn’t have the look of a happy, well-sated man.

  “Yes, Ms. Olsen? Do you have a problem?” Bryce regarded her with fingers twined and steepled.

  God, the man had a killer voice. She’d thought that the first time she met him, but it didn’t make her insides turn to goo. Damon, on the other hand, could do that with a single, hot look.

  “I’m worried about Damon. He never came back after the ball.” She moved closer, hands clasped behind her.

  Glorie leaned forward. “He returned home. The event ended with the ball.”

  Caitie brushed that off. “Yeah, clock strikes midnight, and poof, the fairytale is over. I get that. But Damon needs help. Hell, he shouldn’t even be driving. He had a bad nightmare Thursday night and refused to sleep Friday night because of his dreams.” They’d spent the entire night talking about favorite books, music, politics, and movies and TV shows. But not about his past, as a boy or his time as a SEAL. She was worried about him. He’d been like an injured animal who’d run off to lick its wounds. He needed help.

  “Why are you here, Caitlin?”

  Boldly, Caitie seated herself. “I want to know why he blames himself for his men getting killed. He told me some but there’s more.”

  Bryce lifted a brow. “What gives you the right to ask?”

  “Love.” God, there it was. She couldn’t deny it to herself or to them. She’d fallen in love with Damon. She’d never believed in love at first sight, and maybe it had taken more than that first encounter, but she was hip deep.

  “Are you sure it’s not just lust? You’ve only known this man a couple days.”

  Caitie leaned forward, arms on the desk. “Judging from the look of you and your partner, I’d say the two of you were feeling more than lust for each other. From what I overheard between Cinderella and Red in the ladies room, she had no idea who you were. Can you truthfully tell me you don’t love her? Or want the chance to see if what you feel is love?”

  Glorie laid a hand on Bryce’s arm. “She’s got you there, pet.” She stared intently at Caitlin for a few moments. “Damon needs to tell you whatever he wishes when he wishes, but you are right. He needs help, and I think you might be the one. What is your plan?”

  “My horses and the men on my ranch can help him come to terms with what happened. I’ve seen it happen and want to give him that chance.” Not to mention the fact that she loved the man and wanted the chance to prove to him that he deserved to be happy and at peace, that they deserved their shot at a happily-ever-after ending.

  “You think a horse is going to save Damon from himself?” Skepticism and disbelief laced Bryce’s voice.

  Caitie stood and paced. “He doesn’t believe he deserves to live. He thinks he should have died with his men. He needs to get out of his head and see that he has so much to offer and experience.”

  “In other words, you plan to give him a kick in the ass.” Glorie leaned back in her chair, a glint in her eyes.

  Tipping her chin, Caitie met the Domme’s glance. “If need be. If that’s what it takes to get him back to the land of the living, then I’ll gladly kick his ass to hell and back.” Never mind he was already in his own private hell.

  “What do you want us to do?”

  “Bring him to the ranch.”

  “And if he refuses?”

  Caitie firmed her lips. “Intervention. I’m sure you two can figure out a way to get him out there.” To me.

  Glorie laughed low in her throat. “I’m in.” She stood. “I’ll bring him to you. The rest is up to you.”

  Caitie nodded. “Thank you.” She turned to go.

  Glorie’s voice stopped her. “Did the weekend live up to your expectations, Caitlin?”

  Laughing softly, Caitie met the Domme’s amused eyes. “I think I got a lot more than I bargained for,” she replied, thinking of that spanking session. “I’m in your debt. It was wonderful.”

  “Pull off whatever you have planned, and I’ll consider us even.”

  Minutes later, seated in the back of a limo, Caitie pulled out her tablet and started making notes and plans. Not once did she allow herself to think that her Dom would not come to her ranch. She couldn’t.

  ****

  Damon brooded in the dim light of his studio apartment. Curtains closed, lights off, just him, the darkness, and his demons. His bedding lay in twisted tangles on the couch, testimony of his bad night. Twice he’d woken up, arms searching for Caitlin, but his night angel wasn’t there to ease his pain and bring sunshine into his life.

  Shoving aside a pizza box, several empty beer bottles, and a smushed bag of
chips, he picked up the remote to the TV. He flipped it on and pressed play. The movie depicting a shaggy beast and a village maid flashed across the screen. He hit fast forward until he reached one of his favorite parts. “You’re so messed up, buddy. Watching a kid’s vid.”

  But he felt close to Caitlin every time he watched it. He turned up the volume when the castle objects came to life and broke into song. He closed his eyes and leaned back against the couch.

  She made him feel almost human again.

  For three days, Caitlin had tamed the beast inside him. She had captivated him with her humor, trusted him even when she was afraid, and earned his respect for being a strong, determined woman. It hadn’t taken him long to realize the weekend of role-play was more intense and demanding than she’d been prepared for.

  Yet, she’d risen to the challenge, accepted his rules, and participated with a willingness he had to admire. Even the spanking scene. She could have used her safeword and ended everything, but he’d seen the pride in her eyes, along with a bit of fear.

  Yes, he admired her. And loved her. But the night of the ball had brought home the reality and painful fact that he wasn’t a prince who’d won the heart of his princess. He wasn’t whole and healthy with the rest of his life spread out before him, and he sure as hell didn’t deserve a fairy tale ending. No, he truly was the beast, doomed to a life alone.

  He scrubbed a hand over his face. Many called him a war hero. Hell, he had a medal that said so, but the only heroic action he’d committed was leaving Caitlin. He loved her over his own needs and flat out refused to become a burden. She’d taken care of her mother, raised her brother and sister. He would not be another obligation. She was better off without him.

  The doorbell rang. He ignored it. The bell sang through the studio again. And again. And again.

  Swearing, he got stiffly to his feet and shouted, “What the fuck do you want?”

  He yanked the door open to the jarring peal. His jaw dropped and then snapped shut at the sight of Glorie Amadori standing with her red-tipped nail pressed to the button. She wore a red silk tunic and black slacks, her two favorite colors.