Chapter 23
CHAPTER 23
B ELLE
He’s late.
He was supposed to pick me up at six, but it’s already six thirty, and I’m all dressed up with no place to go and no one to take me.
I look at my outfit in the mirror. I’m wearing a low-cut top that shows off a little more boob than I’m used to, and a pair of knee-high black boots over tight blue jeans. All on loan from Mya.
Before heading into town to help set up the fundraiser, she helped me with my hair and makeup, despite my assurance that I could do that myself. But she insisted because I think she’s still traumatized by my lack of effort yesterday and the state of my hair when I attended the party.
But she has nothing to worry about. I learned my lesson. I’m not going to blow this. I’m going to be a good little ol’ lady and do as I’m told. For Uncle Maurice.
I figure if I remember why I’m doing this, I will be less likely to fuck it up by wanting Beast to kiss me. Worst of all, touch me.
But the truth is, I do want him to touch me. I have wanted his hands on me since the moment he stepped out of the shadows and into the lamplight the night we met. That was the moment I felt the longing awaken inside me. And it confuses me. Not to mention pisses me off. Because I have no business wanting this man. But I do, and it’s like something deep inside me has already decided my fate and he’s it.
It's why I fight him so much. I’m trying to prove a point to the both of us. That I am no pushover. And that this longing to feel him touch me is complete insanity.
But it’s getting me nowhere. And after today’s encounter in the garden, I’ve decided to change tactics and behave. Because when Beast turns the tables on me, I get drawn deeper into his web.
The door opens, and Beast appears in the doorway and immediately my stomach knots at the sight of him.
He’s wearing his usual black jeans and a tee under his cut. But something is different about him tonight. Oh he’s still got that air of power and control about him. But I can see the worry etched into his brow—the worry he thinks he’s hiding behind his scowl.
“You’re late,” I say, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.
He walks up behind me, and I’m immediately caught in his heat and scent.
Memories of rubbing myself against his erection this morning swirl in my head, and my nipples harden to peaks.
I raise an eyebrow at him in the mirror, and he pulls out a small black box.
I turn around to face him and look at the box. “What is that?”
He opens it, and winking back at me is a giant diamond. “Your engagement ring.”
I’m speechless. It’s stunning.
Beast takes it out of the box and slides it onto my finger.
And just like that, I am engaged.
It’s my third night at the clubhouse, and somehow I am now the future Mrs. Beast.
I look at the big fat diamond ring on my finger.
This is really happening.
“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.
As a young girl, I always imagined this moment would be incredibly romantic and worthy of an ugly cry. That I would find my Prince Charming and be swept away in a wave of romance.
But this isn’t even close to romantic. This is blackmail.
And Beast couldn’t be less of a Prince Charming if he tried.
“It will do,” he says, as if the ice rink on my finger is nothing. It must’ve cost a fortune. Unless it’s fake. Like the rest of this. I move my hand around so it catches in the light and sparkles. I don’t care if it’s fake. It’s beautiful, and I’ve never owned something so lovely.
“Ready to go, fiancée?” he asks.
I take another look at the ring on my finger and smile. “As ready as I’m ever going to be.”
As we walk through the unusually quiet clubhouse toward the front door, I think about my uncle and how pale he looked today. Then I think about how it’s only because of Beast’s generosity he is safe.
My hands turn clammy, and my heart begins to pound rapidly against my rib cage.
If I don’t sell this, then Uncle Maurice will pay the price.
I think of Annika and her suspicious looks.
If anyone is going to pull this pretense apart it will be her. She already knows something isn’t right.
In a moment of panic, I stop and turn to Beast.
“I can’t do this,” I whisper. “I’m sorry. I will never be able to pull it off. They will see right through me because I’m not a good actress. Not when there is so much at stake.”
I can’t meet this eye. Because I know he’s going to be angry at me. He will see this as me being difficult. But it’s not. It’s me being terrified people will see straight through our fakery and my uncle will bear the consequence.
Last night at the party, I was angry at him and that anger made it easy to face everyone. Not to mention, I was bolstered by a couple of shots of Wildfire Moonshine.
But now I’ve had time to process the situation, and I can see how much is at stake. There is no way I will be able to pull it off.
“Look at me,” Beast says.
He brushes his finger and thumb against my chin and gently lifts my face so I have no choice but to look at him. “There is nothing to be afraid of, little one.”
“But what if I fuck it up?”
A hint of a smile touches his beautiful lips. “How would you do that?”
“I’m not a very good actress.”
“Last night you were a very good one,” he says with a heat in his voice that make certain parts of me tingle. “Just look at me like you love me. Don’t flinch if I touch you.”
I swallow thickly. “Exactly how are you going to touch me?”
“Like this.” He takes my hand in his and tangles his fingers through mine. Then runs his knuckles down my cheek. “And like this.”
His lips find mine and the tenderness in his kiss makes me weak behind the knees.
It feels reassuring.
Gentle.
Real.
I pull away, startled by the thought. “What if they don’t think I’m your type. Oh my god, what is your type?”
He runs his thumb across my lower lip. “You, Belle. You’re my type.”
My heart kicks an extra beat.
I’m caught in his spell and I don’t even care.
The way he’s looking at me.
The warmth in his eyes.
The tenderness in his touch.
I want him to touch me.
I know it is crazy to feel this way. But something about this is so…familiar.
He brushes a stray lock of hair from my face. “Just stay by my side, and everything will be all right.”
It’s hard not to believe him when he has unshakable faith in me.
When I nod, he kisses me again, and this time I melt into him, and all my nerves and resistance disappear like a wave pulling away from the shore.