Authors: Kristen Ashley
Her body locked as his strong fingers curled just above her elbow. She felt them there, so hot on her skin she thought they were going to leave burn marks.
As she was thinking this, he moved to her side and propelled her forward.
She took two steps then froze, rooted to the spot.
Her head tilted to look at him and she queried, “Where are we going?”
“Don’t worry Belle. We’re not rejoining the party. I’m going to show you The Point,” he explained.
Belle felt immense relief that she had a ready and truthful excuse to get out of a tour of “The Point” (what they called his enormous, multitude-of-rooms-filled castle) with James Bennett.
“That’s okay. Miles took me on a tour this afternoon.”
She watched as James looked over her shoulder and muttered, “Of course he did.”
Then he moved forward again, his hand firm on her arm so she had no choice but to move with him. As they went toward the door, he grabbed his dinner jacket from the arm of the couch.
“Um, James…” she began to protest but he spoke again.
“Jack,” he stated firmly then he let out a low whistle and Belle heard dog tags behind them.
“Okay,” she agreed hesitantly and went on, “I should probably find Miles and –”
He cut her off, “I’m betting Miles missed part of the tour.”
Belle couldn’t imagine that. They’d been wandering around for over an hour.
“I think he was pretty thorough,” Belle informed him as he stopped them and put his hand to the doorknob.
He looked down at her before opening the door. “My brother is many things,” he said softly and there was a wealth of meaning behind his words, Belle just didn’t understand it. “But he is not thorough.”
Then he opened the door and guided her through.
Then he guided her down a deserted hall.
Then he guided her through some busy kitchens.
Then he took her out a backdoor.
They stepped into the nippy May evening and Belle shivered.
Upon her shiver, James pulled her to a stop and dropped her arm. She turned to him and saw he was shaking out his dinner jacket. Before her mind registered his intent, he moved close to her front, his hands came up on either side of her and he settled the jacket on her shoulders.
Then his fingers came to the lapels and pulled them closed at her chest, leaving his hands there.
Throughout this she stood shocked and solid.
It was a kind thing to do.
Immensely kind.
Even gallant.
It was also, the way he did it, casually intimate.
She barely knew the man and yet there she was in the night wearing his jacket, his hands on her and it seemed, unlike when Miles touched her, strangely natural.
“Better?” he murmured and all she could do was nod.
Part of her hoped they could stand like that forever (or at least for a while).
Part of her wanted to run screaming into the night.
Therefore, she felt relief
and
disappointment when his hands moved from the lapels of his jacket.
Her body relaxed then grew stiff again as only one of his hands dropped away.
The other one came up to her neck, sliding against her skin in a barely there touch (but still, she felt it, and his touch affected her
everywhere
). He tugged free her errant lock of hair from where it was caught under his jacket.
Then she felt rather than saw him twist it around his finger, his eyes on this movement, his expression thoughtful, his face beautiful and all she could do was stand there and stare.
Then his finger released her hair and he dropped his hand.
That was when Belle realised her lungs were burning again due to lack of oxygen because she wasn’t breathing.
“I think you’ll like the part of the tour that Miles missed,” he told her and she nodded because she couldn’t think of what else to do.
He turned and put a hand to the small of her back, moving her forward, walking beside her, his hand never leaving her (and it burned there too).
He glanced behind them as they walked and called, “Baron,” and the German
Shepherd
jogged up to his side.
They walked silently along a stone path that led around the castle and up a small hill. Some of it was uneven though not treacherous but James obviously knew this path like the back of his hand because before they hit the rough patches, his arm would slide around her, fingers curving at her waist to pull her protectively to his side.
Belle didn’t think much about this because her mind was in a perpetual horrified whirl.
How she was going to make it through whatever he was going to show her, she had no clue.
However, their silent, moonlit stroll was
weirding
her out even more.
It wasn’t like this was the first time they walked close by each other’s sides but as if they’d done it countless times before. And because of that, it seemed even more personal than Miles holding her close in the drawing room.
She had to break the silence and the strange, innate intimacy.
“Is he yours?” she blurted.
“Excuse me?” he asked.
“The dog, Baron.
Is he yours or is he a family dog?” Belle clarified.
“He’s mine,” James stated in a way that made it clear the dog was definitely his.
Something about the way he said this gave Belle a
melty
belly too.
Therefore she decided to stop talking.
Finally they approached a building set some distance away from the castle and James stopped Belle at a wooden door. He opened it, gently pushed her ahead of him and then stopped her again. His torso twisted, his hand still on the small of her back, and light flooded the room.
It was stables.
Belle immediately emitted an unabashed cry of delight.
She
loved
horses.
She turned and smiled up at James.
“I
love
horses,” she told him but, even seeing his eyes were on her, something which normally would terrify her, she was too excited to be scared of him. That was how much she loved horses.
Therefore she turned away and instantly moved toward the horses.
There were ten stalls, eight of them filled, the heads of the horses hanging over the doors as they looked to see what was happening.
Belle slowly approached the first horse and put her hand under the horse’s nose. The horse sniffed and snorted at her hand and she laughed softly at the tickling sensation. Once the horse had given her permission, Belle moved closer and stroked her muzzle.
“She’s beautiful,” Belle breathed as she felt James arrive at her side.
“You like animals,” James commented.
Belle kept stroking.
“Yes,” she replied quietly, her eyes never leaving the animal.
She gave the horse one last rub then moved around James, not looking at him, to the next horse, giving him a nuzzle. Then she went to the next then the next.
At the last stall, she saw a huge grey, his smoky mane sleek and long,
his
body bigger, muscles more defined and powerful than any of the other horses.
He was pure equine beauty.
James was again at her side as she stroked the horse’s nose.
“He’s my favourite,” she whispered and as if the horse understood her words, he moved his nose to her neck and blew, causing Belle to let out a short, startled giggle.
“He’s mine,” James said and Belle moved her head away from the horse, her hands still on his powerful jaws and looked up at James.
“I’m thinking you have good taste,” she told him.
His eyes locked on hers and they went strange like they were amused and something else. Something she couldn’t read. Something that made her belly
feel
warm again.
“I definitely have good taste,” he replied without a shred of humility.
Belle didn’t know what to say to that so she didn’t say anything.
With one last pat, she stepped away from his horse and said, “You were right. Miles didn’t show me the stables but I’m glad you did. Thank you.”
She started to move by him in the direction of the door but he caught her by the elbow, that strange heat coming from his touch again, searing into her skin.
She tipped her head back to look up at him and saw his chin was dipped to look down at her, his intense green eyes staring into hers.
Instantly, her breathing became laboured.
“You haven’t seen all I wanted to show you,” he said.
“I haven’t?” she asked.
He shook his head and moved her around, drawing her to a room at the end the stables. Baron came with them and he was dancing around James’s long legs as they made it to the door.
James opened the door and Baron pushed through them to get inside. James leaned in, switched on a light and then pressed Belle inside.
On the floor ensconced on a huge dog bed with warm rugs all around was another German
Shepherd
. Her head came up but her body didn’t, likely because there were several little German
Shepherd
puppies nestled and asleep at her belly.
Without thinking, Belle clapped her hands in front of her and shouted, “Puppies!” and immediately she moved toward the dogs.
Baron gave her an excited bark, obviously feeling pleased with himself as father of this brood and Belle gave his head a rub before she dropped to her knees on the rug.
“Who’s the proud papa?” she asked and Baron gave her another happy bark and licked her hand.
Belle turned her attention to the mama Shepherd.
“And who are you?” she asked as she let the female dog smell her hand before Belle stroked her.
“Her name is
Gretl
,” James replied and Belle looked up and gave him a smile.
“They’re beautiful,” she told him, turning her attention back to the doggie family and she saw some of the puppies waking, blinking and fumbling toward her.
She caught the closest one and picked her up, cuddling the puppy to her face. The puppy sniffed, squirmed and finally licked Belle’s face and Belle nuzzled the writhing little one to her neck, that unmistakable puppy scent enveloping her senses.
“I just love the smell of puppy,” she murmured into soft fur, gave her another squeeze then set her down and grabbed the next one to approach.
As she did, she saw James’s hand reach out and nab a puppy who was climbing up the expensive fabric at Belle’s thigh. She turned her eyes to him as she snuggled her newest bundle.
He was in a crouch close by her side and working at containing the six, now awake bundles of energy who all wanted to play with Belle.
“Are you keeping them?” she asked and watched him shake his head as he pulled back another pup from her knee. Her voice held a hint of a surprise when she went on to enquire, “You’re not?”
He and his big, huge castle could easily harbour eight dogs.
No sweat.
“They’re all sold,” James said. “Baron and
Gretl
are both champions. Their litters are popular.”
Belle looked down at the happy, floppy-eared puppies, both
Gretl
and Baron nosing them as James kept at his containment efforts and Belle exchanged her puppy for a new one to snuggle.
She couldn’t imagine for one moment letting go of a single pup.
“You won’t even keep just one?” Belle queried.
His eyes turned to her and she realised belatedly how close he was. The room was lit and she could see, like she did when he first greeted her back in the drawing room, how thick, black and long his lashes were.
Women paid good money for someone to glue lashes that beautiful on their eyelids. Looking at his, surrounding those green eyes, eyes a colour she couldn’t believe was from nature, she was, put simply, entranced.
“Pick one,” he said and, at his surprising words, she blinked out of her trance.
“Sorry?”
“Pick one,” he repeated and she tore her gaze from his and looked down at the adorable, happy, fidgeting puppies then her shocked eyes went back to James.
“I thought you said they’re all sold.”
“They are,” he replied. “I’ll return the fee of the one you’ve chosen.”
She stared at him in shock.
Was he for real?
“You can’t do that,” Belle protested.
His lips tipped up slightly at the ends and she watched them as if this small movement was the most fascinating thing she ever
beheld
.
And she thought maybe it was.
Then she watched his lips form the words, “I can.”
She moved her eyes to his. “So, what you’re saying is, you’re giving me a dog.”
It was then his mouth formed a full-fledged grin. “That’s what I’m saying.”