Chapter Seven
Beauty awoke slowly the next
morning, stretching languorously in bed and relishing the smooth feel of the
satin sheets against her skin. A faint
blush painted her cheeks, much like the rosy pastels that graced the sunrise
outside. The last night had been far
different from what she'd expected when she'd left her father's yard on Apple's
back. She'd been convinced that certain
death awaited her within the cold, stone walls of the castle in the dark forest
that no hunter dared to ply his trade in.
Yet, nothing of the sort had stalked her from gloomy shadows or leapt
upon her to tear her to bloody pieces.
Her captor was almost as much a prisoner as she, due to his beastly
appearance. He hadn't hurt her and was
actually showering her with luxury and attention, making sure that she was
washed and clothed immediately upon her arrival, letting her have free run of
the castle, and indulging her in her love of Romeo and Juliet.
Holy Mary,
Mother of God! she sat up suddenly in bed, last night's reading fresh in her
mind. She'd kissed him! On the lips! What on earth was she thinking?
Rayven was no lonely prince or pining soldier from one of her fairy
tales!
He was a beast!
He merely
looks like a beast. He has the heart
and soul of a man.
He'd threatened to murder her
beloved father for the petty theft of one measly rose!
That
measly rose cost him ten years of his life if this spell is to be believed.
Why should she believe his ludicrous
story about a spell?
He has no
call to lie… and how else do you explain his situation?
She should run from the castle like
the devil himself was on her heels. She
should leave the beast to his lair and never look back.
You should
follow your heart and save him from his loneliness. He is suffering and needs your love to heal him and his subjects.
You already care for him, Beauty… just admit it. That creature waiting for you at the breakfast table would give
you the sun and stars if you asked him.
Perhaps he already has.
Where did
that come from? Beauty shook her
head slightly, confused by the sensation of another's voice in her mind. Last night's indiscretions still revolving
in her mind like a wind-mill's sail, Beauty slipped out of her silky nightgown
and pulled a plush robe over her shoulders, holding it closed at the
waist. As she suspected, Matty and
Shannon had already prepared a warm bath for her to soak in. Both cats were suspiciously absent and she
wondered if they knew what had happened last night. No one had been in the room when she and Rayven had found their
way back. He had lingered inside for a
few moments, looking decidedly uncomfortable with invading her private chambers. She had eased his discomfort by inviting him
to have a midnight snack with her, which she discovered in a bowl of fruit on a
table in the middle of the room that had not been there before. They had spent the next hour talking over
peaches, apples, cherries, and grapes.
No one had disturbed them, although the entire place must have known
that they were together and alone in her chambers. Beauty speculated as to whether or not they all thought that
she'd spent the night in bed with Rayven.
That could be why her two
"servants" were absent, they would've wanted her soak in the warm
water to ease away the pain of innocence lost, both physical and
otherwise. However, with virginity
intact, but furiously blushing cheeks nonetheless, Beauty let the robe slip to
the floor and descended into the large bath.
Perhaps she would be able to convince them otherwise if such fallen
thoughts abounded in the castle.
@>-------,------'----------------------
Rayven once again had ensconced
himself in the small chamber behind the huge mirror adorning one of the walls
in Beauty's rooms. He had arrived just
as she'd lowered her sweet body into the warm, scented water he'd told Shannon
and Matty to prepare for her. After
what he'd put her through last night, the child deserved some extensive
pampering.
He'd cursed himself over and over,
stopping just short of banging his head against a stone wall. He should never have obliged himself of her
tempting mouth… kissing her had been an act of most rude impertinence. She was barely more than a child, pure and
innocent… he was a wild beast and had no right to her. True, she'd not protested and had seemed
pleased by their brief kisses… but had she been pressed any closer to his
aching body, she would've known the extent of his torment. The sheer sight of her in that filmy, soft
night gown with the robe almost falling off of her shoulders had been more than
enough to remind him that, more than beast, he was also a man… a man who'd been
celibate for hundreds of years against his will.
He watched hungrily as she soaked in
the tub, the mist of perfumes clouding the water to the extent that he could
not see through its surface. She sat
up, her back thankfully facing the mirror and began to use a soft washcloth to
clean her skin. Her hair had parted
over her shoulders, exposed the creamy flesh of her bare back and neck to his
view and Rayven swallowed past the lump in his throat. She splashed a few times, apparently out of
playfulness, then giggled at her own silliness.
Rayven smiled gently, amused and
touched by her childish pleasure. She
truly was a young flower, just blooming under the sun's love… but what if the
darkness of the castle shriveled her youthful hopes and dreams as they had his?
She sang, drawing his immediate
attentions back to the present. No
minstrel or bard was she, but her voice was sweet and high… like that of a
morning songbird. More appropriately a mermaid, Rayven thought as he took in the
sight of her bare torso and wet hair.
He sighed. Truth be told, he'd been far happier and more relaxed in the last
twenty-four hours than he had been since this spell was cast upon him. She was medicine to his wounded soul and
spirit. Hope for his sick heart. Not only was she breathtakingly beautiful in
his opinion, but she was sweet and compassionate… she had not judged him upon
seeing him.
"Sight seeing, milord?"
Jacob's voice inquired behind him as he watched Beauty rise from the tub and
don her robe without granting him a glimpse of any forbidden flesh.
"Must you always have such
impeccable timing, Jacob?" Rayven asked irritably, stalking out of the
chamber with Jacob on his heels.
"Might I entreat you not to
torture yourself, milord? Watching her
intimate moments through the glass will not temper the steel of your resolve
not to frighten her. All you're doing
is making your temptation all the more… well… tempting." Jacob insisted,
folding Rayven's velvet tunic and linen shirt as he removed them.
"You could entreat me… but I
wouldn't listen. I can't help it,
Jacob… she's so… compelling. So utterly
beautiful." Rayven murmured more to himself than to his servant.
"She's also an impressionable,
young girl who may well run away if you reveal your passions for her too
soon. Agreed?" Jacob pointed out.
"Agreed. Have Christian show her about the gardens
and anywhere else that she wants to see.
Tell Pierre to prepare something delicate for her breakfast and lunch…
save the heavy meal for supper. Shannon
and Matty should change the sheets of her bed and set out something suitable
for her to wear tonight for dinner.
Make sure that Christian does not let her wander into the forest for any
reason."
"Yes, milord." Jacob
obeyed, taking his leave.
"The last thing I want is for her to see me hunting as the beast that I am." Rayven whispered, anxiety twisting his stomach.