Gerard's Beauty (11 page)

She fingered the edge of the sheet. “I can’t sleep either,” she finally admitted. “I’ve been driving for hours.”

“I heard you leave.” She drowned in the depths of his eyes as they roamed her face. “I’m not a man used to talking. To telling so much of who I am. I’m still not sure I want to.”

Betty gripped the sheet, inching it higher. “I’m not asking you to, Gerard. But I think this can at least be fun. Now that sex is out of the equation, maybe you can view me not as a body but as a person. Get to know me. I’m not all that bad.”

His lips twitched. “You’ve still the tongue of a viper about you.”

She rolled her eyes. “And you’re still a Neanderthal, but I forgive you for that.”

“Gods help me,” he moaned, and his smile was so boyish, so silly, Betty’s nerves completely fled.

She tugged on the sheet.

His eyes narrowed. “
Cherie
, are you trying to slip into my bed?”

Her heart jerked. “No,” she said a bit too swiftly, “why, are you asking me to?”

His brow rose, and his lips spread into a slow curl. “Do you want to?”

Yes. “Why? Do you want me to?” Pulse pounding so hard she tasted the adrenaline, she waited. She should just say it. It was obvious. But again, this wasn’t something she’d ever do, but anytime it came to this man she found herself doing and saying things outside her comfort zone.

He crossed his arms as if waiting on her to say something.

She lifted her chin, recognizing his challenge and responded to it. “Fine. Yes, I want to cuddle. I’m tired, but I can’t sleep. We’re in this together and I feel sort of bonded to you because of it. I trust you not to manhandle me in the middle of the night, and it’s been a long time since I’ve cuddled anyone. Call me a slut if you want but--”

“
Enfer
,
Cherie.
Too many words.” Gerard threw the sheets back, and he was so naked and she was so not, she felt hot and twitchy all over again.

“Oh jeez, Gerard. You’re gonna have to put on some night pants or something. I... I can’t.”

“Have you ever lain with a man before, Betty?” his deep voice rolled over her skin like warmed oil.

“Many times. Tons. Lots.”

He snorted and got up. “Give me clothes then, woman.”

Betty tripped over her feet, and dived into the bag, feeling around for the soft fabric. She grabbed the black sleeping pants and tossed them at him. “There.”

He laughed and slipped them on. He held his arms out. “Better?”

Not really. Because the pants tapered to his slim waist like the finest silk, hugged his hips and thighs, teasing her with what lay beneath. She bit her lip.

Gerard hopped back into the bed, crossed his arms behind his head and reclined. “Well?”

“What?”

His brow rose. “Your turn. You can’t sleep in all that.”

Betty glanced down at her jeans and shirt. She narrowed her eyes. “I’m not afraid of you, Gerard. I’m not a prude.”

“Prove it.” He crossed his heels, wearing a cocky grin.

“This is so stupid,” she said, lifting her shirt above her head, tossing it at his face. She always wore an undershirt, so if he’d hoped to see the color of her bra he was S.O.L. “Not like you can do anything, why put yourself through the torture?”

He sniffed her pink top, and her stomach swirled with dancing butterflies, she’d spritzed herself with orange blossom perfume before she’d left and couldn’t help wondering if he liked it. Her toes curled, digging into the carpet.

“The trews,” he said, and she licked her lips, pulse fluttering as the butterflies climbed out her stomach and up her throat.

Betty touched the button of her jeans and channeling her best Marilyn Monroe meets Xena warrior princess sex kitten vibe, snapped it open. Her fingers shook, but thankfully he didn’t seem to notice as she pushed the jeans off.

“You’ve the shapely thighs of a gazelle,
sorciere
.” 

His voice sounded hoarse and hearing him call her a sorceress, knowing he implied she cast a spell on him, it filled her with a sense of womanly empowerment. Betty smiled and hopped over her pile. “See, not afraid of you.”

He scrubbed his jaw.

But the second she got in bed with him, and his arm stretched across her shoulder, the fear came back like a splash of ice water to the face. She tensed.

Gerard didn’t speak either, but his fingers rubbing her cold upper arms soothed her, and before she knew it, she was shuddering out a deep breath, body liquid and languid.

Briley hated covering his window with a curtain, hated blocking out the stars he said. Now she knew why, Gerard’s big body cradling hers, her head on his chest-- lulled by the steady beat of his heart-- and the beauty of a million twinkling lights, was better than any sleeping pill. From one breath to the next, Betty slipped into the peaceful oblivion of dreams.

***

Gerard stared at her, entranced by the soft lift of her chest, her warm breaths against his skin, and wondered why he’d never taken the time to watch a woman sleep before. Watch the shadow of dreams race across her face, see her face twitch and hear her gentle moans. T’was a wonder he’d never want to miss out on again.

He couldn’t understand her. Understand why she was okay with this. If it’d been him, and she’d fallen into his lap, he’d have screwed her senseless, then walked away. He’d not have cared for her plight, it wasn’t his problem. And yet here she was, snuggled up to him, with her leg wrapped around his and her tiny hand splayed against his heart, and he couldn’t understand it.

His lips twitched. She rambled, a lot. Nonsense he often couldn’t make out, but it didn’t bother him. Not even the sharp tongue of hers did anything other than make his blood hot and his brain crazed with a consuming need to know her.

Maybe this wouldn’t be so bad after all. But the one month limit told him one thing… the tribunal had not believed she was his mate. This was a test, one he was sure to fail.

Though he’d bedded many women, Gerard had never been able to make one truly fall in love with him. With his body… yes. With his skill to illicit passion unlike any they’d ever known, beyond a doubt. He’d do everything in his power to make Betty fall in love with him.

Because he knew this was Galeta’s final attempt at revenge. If within the month Betty didn’t fall in love, she’d be freed, and he’d be sent back and destroyed.

She twitched and he brushed his fingers across her forehead, tucking her hair back.

Gerard had fallen in love once before, deeply. Truly. He’d loved Belle like no other before or since. He’d sworn off love after her betrayal, after she’d left him for a beast with money. He’d grown callused, cruel. He’d do the same to Betty, he always did. Gerard couldn’t love anymore. It simply wasn’t in him.

“Betty Hart, I’m sorry.” He whispered and she smiled, snuggling in deeper. “You shouldn’t know me. I’m no good. Don’t fall in love with me,
Cherie
. Guard your heart, because the moment I’m free, I’ll leave you. I always do.”

Chapter 10

“Good morning,
mon
petite
.”

Betty lifted a brow, never a morning person she shuffled her way toward the coffee maker and smiled when she smelled the roasted aroma of Arabica beans. “You made coffee?”

He grinned and a tingle of appreciation zipped down her spine, making her fingers clench around the handle of the coffee pot. She’d known it-- he was even more delicious looking in the morning with the scruff and the heart melting smile.

His smile held and the air around them tightened, prickling her flesh as he ever so slightly moved in. “I thought you might need some.”

Betty licked her lips. He was shirtless, chiseled pecs flexing under her hot gaze. She snapped her eyes back to his face, but it wasn’t much better. Blue eyes the color of hottest flames popped in the morning light. How had she ever thought them black?

She shook her head.
Get a hold of yourself, Hart
! Clearing her throat, she turned abruptly and with shaking fingers, grabbed a coffee mug out of the cabinet above her head. “That was nice.”

She poured a generous amount of the black brew into her cup and with it still steaming, gulped a mouthful. It burned the sensitive skin on the roof of her mouth and brought tears to her eyes, but the pain helped her think about something other than his yummy delectableness. Was that even a phrase? Either way, it completely applied.

“There’s milk on the counter,” he said and turned back to the stove.

“I drink it black,” she murmured, then frowned. “What are you doing?”

He shot her another one of those killer grins. “Making your breakfast.” Grabbing the carton of eggs off the counter he asked, “two or three egg omelet?”

“One, and you don’t have to do that.”

He shrugged and cracked two eggs, then started to mix them. “It takes no effort. You’re putting up with me for a month and I’ve nothing else to do,
Cherie
.”

How in the world had he learned her kitchen so quickly? Betty hardly knew it and she’d lived here three years. There were days she’d open a drawer and rediscover a gadget she hadn’t seen in months. To say she wasn’t much of a cook was a stretch.

He padded around the kitchen with smooth efficiency. Opening drawers, grabbing a utensil, beating the egg, moving to the refrigerator and pulling out tons of vegetables and a bag of generic shredded cheese-- all of it with an effortless grace that let her know the bedroom wasn’t the only place the man felt confident.

Before she knew it the room filled with the scent of buttery veggies. Betty inhaled greedily, used to only smelling this when she went out to eat-- which was usually never thanks to a measly librarian’s salary.

 Not wanting to get in the way, she sat down at the breakfast bar, crossed her legs, and sipped her still piping hot brew.

“When do you work today?” he asked with his back still to her.

Betty drummed her fingers on her warm mug, admiring the flex and sway of his muscles as he poured the egg batter into the pan. The sizzle made her mouth water and her stomach growl.

“Nine. I’ve got some shelving and paperwork to do before I open the doors.”

He nodded. “Grab two plates,
s’il vous plait
.”

Betty got up and took two plates to him. With a deft flick of his wrist, he sliced the omelet in half and slipped one end on her plate and the other on his. He handed her a plate.

The omelets were the fluffiest, yellow things she’d ever seen. Normally if she made one, and those attempts were rare, the egg would be just shy of black and the cheese tasting of rubber. Picking up a fork, she sliced through the creation and popped the steaming forkful into her mouth. Moaning in ecstasy at the incredible moist and lush flavors of roasted peppers and onions and gooey cheese, she beamed at a proud looking Gerard.

“Oh my, wow,” she breathed, tongue throbbing from the hot bite and not caring. “This is amazing. What did you do?”

With a nod toward the table, he guided her to her seat of the night before.

He took a bite and nodded. “Butter, vegetables, salt. The only things truly essential for a fine meal.”

Betty ate, each bite tasting better than the last. She smiled and he returned it.

“I hope the coffee is not too bitter. We tend to prefer tea in Kingdom, though Jinni’s got an affinity for the coffee. I learned from him.” He pointed to her now empty cup.

Strange that this should feel so perfect, so cozy. They hardly knew each other, and it was amazing how she’d gone from terrified and suspicious of the man, to comfortable and fully at ease. Betty rested her chin on the hand holding the now dangling fork. “You know this is feeling domestic. I’d ask you what you’re up to, Gerard.” She lifted a brow.

He chewed the last of his omelet and then sighed. “As you said last night, we’re stuck with each other for a month. Let’s at least try to get along, no?”

Betty nibbled on the last forkful. Even cold, the food was great. It’d been fantastic last night too. The man knew his way around the kitchen. Made her curious what else he knew his way around. Her stomach fluttered with that thought.

“You said you learned from a woman. Who was she?”

He licked his teeth. “Sure you want to know?”

“Why not.” Probably some skank he’d slept with.

“Bar maid I slept with.”

Yup, she’d known it. Betty chuckled.

He tipped his jaw. “Why do you laugh?”

She rolled her eyes. “I don’t know you at all, and yet there’s times where I feel like I’ve known you forever. Although I gotta say...” she gave a melodramatic sigh, pushing the plate away, “your cooking is amazing. If I had to get stuck with someone for a month, I could have done worse. I want more.”

The moment the words left her lips, a strange silver glow shimmered in the air between them like smoke. The necklace she’d still been unable to yank off flared hot. Gerard’s face tightened, he cracked his jaw, and shot to his feet.

Mechanical footsteps took him back to the stove where he grabbed an egg.