Beast Lord: (Beauty and the Beast) (Tangled Tales Book 3) (9 page)

If she hadn’t been so relaxed she might have jumped when next she felt soft butterfly kisses against the side of her neck and his hot breath warming her skin. His fingers continued to make sensual circles, and her head fell to the opposite side as his kisses continued, trailing down her neck and to the front of her collarbone that was exposed from her gown.

“Oooooo, that feels . . . nice,” she admitted, and she must have said something to please him, because his next words weren’t so gruff, but sounded rather – alluring.

“I do know how to please a woman, no matter what you hear from my arrogant brothers.”

“I’ve heard nothing,” she said, “but I am intrigued. How is it you . . . please a woman?”

He didn’t say a word, but this time his kisses trailed around to the soft hollow at the front of her neck. His lips were warm and soft, and she didn’t even feel those scratchy whiskers she knew were protruding from his face. With her eyes closed, it was easy to forget he wasn’t a suitor, or even a lover. She didn’t want to open her eyes, because she kept picturing him in her dream. Mayhap this was just a dream, and none of this was real. It was getting harder to tell the difference.

“Does this please you?” he whispered against her skin as his hands slid down her neck ever so slowly, and his fingers dipped down, brushing against her exposed cleavage. A tingle flitted across her skin and brought her body to life. Then his mouth covered hers with a kiss and she tasted the essence of a powerful man – a lonely man – and a potential lover.

“It does . . . please me,” she said, her eyes still closed and her head thrown back in surrender as his mouth touched her skin again . . . and his kisses trailed lower and lower until his head was between her breasts. His tongue shot out and he licked her cleavage, making her jolt in the chair as a burning desire ignited between her thighs. As if he knew this, his hand slid down the front of her golden silk gown, not stopping until it settled atop the juncture of her thighs. She felt him step one leg over her and straddle her atop the chair, and she wet her lips since her mouth was open and her breathing felt labored.

“You look so alluring in that gown. I don’t remember you wearing that when you first came here. Where did you get it?” His hand slowly slipped under the top of her bodice, and when the tip of his finger grazed over her nipple, she felt it go taut and almost bolted from the chair.

“You should know since you took my old gown and left this one in its place. I adore it. It is very pretty.”

He was quiet, but it didn’t matter. Next she felt his mouth nipping at her breast right through her clothes and she squirmed in the chair but couldn’t move because he had her trapped between his legs. She moaned and breathed heavily and . . . a knock on the door made her eyes spring open.

For a mere moment, the dream world and reality melded into one, and she wasn’t sure what was real, but she saw Stefan standing over her with his long brown hair and a face without any scars. His body was toned and he had no hair upon his face or body. He was the most handsome man she’d ever laid eyes upon, and she gasped in astonishment as another knock at the door and the voice of his squire, ruined everything.

“My lord, I wanted to tell you – oh!” said Trumble.

Stefan’s head snapped up and his eyes bore fire. Her dream dissipated and before her very eyes, the man transformed from the handsome Sir Stefan into the hideous Beast Lord. His blue eyes turned brown and the whites of his eyes turned red. His hair shrunk up to the odd-angled straw tufts atop his head, and like someone drawing a line down his face, his scars appeared from nowhere.

“What do you want?” he screamed, and when he did, the wiry whiskers popped out of his chin and his chest grew wide, splitting the tunic down the front. She watched in amazement as his chest became very hairy. “Nay,” he cried once he realized what was happening. Then he looked over to his squire with a frown on his face. “How could you disturb me like this?”

“I – I’m sorry my lord, I didn’t know you were . . . I mean I didn’t know Lady Bonnibel and you were –”

Her heart raced and all the tender feelings, the sensuous experience – it all disappeared. She was ripped from a pleasure filled dream and thrown into the harsh reality of being pleasured by nothing more than a man who had turned into a beast.

“Let me go!” she demanded, and he moved his leg, bringing his body from over her. When he did, she ran like the wind - wanting, needing to get away from Sir Stefan. She felt so confused that she wasn’t sure anymore if she should like him . . . or hate him.

Chapter 9

Stefan watched Bonnibel running away, and felt as if his only chance to ever reverse his curse went with her. Damn his squire for interrupting them. He cursed himself as well for not being able to control his temper.

He’d seen something odd happening, and so had she. He’d started turning back into the man he used to be! But with one wrong move, it was all gone in a flash. Or mayhap he’d only imagined it after all.

“Trumble, how could you?” he growled, looking at himself in the standing mirror and shaking his head. His tunic was torn again and his scars and raggedy hair was back. He was certain he had felt his long hair on the back of his neck, and that the burning sensation and itching of his scars had disappeared, even if it was only for a moment.

“What – what happened?” asked Trumble, coming into the room and closing the door.

“What did it look like was happening? I was wooing a lady and she was enjoying it – until you showed up and ruined everything.” He plopped down on the bed, and laid back with his hands behind his head and his boots up on the pallet.

“Nay, I didn’t mean that. I understand what was happening there. I’m talking about you. The way you – shifted, shall I say?”

“Shifted? I don’t know what you mean.” Stefan was busy thinking about Bonnibel and didn’t want to think about his squire’s words.

“You had long hair and no beard. And no scars! I saw it.”

“You saw it too?” He sat up quickly. “Mayhap there is a chance then.”

“A chance for what?”

“A chance to break the old hag’s curse.”

“Don’t be so sure of that,” came the hag’s voice from somewhere in the room. He and his squire looked around, but didn’t see her. Then Stefan noticed something in the room that wasn’t there before.

“Trumble, did you bring another trunk into the room?” he asked, seeing a large humpback trunk under the window that he was sure was not there before.

“Nay, my lord, why?”

“Because I think we have company.” He ran over to the standing mirror and swung it around and looked at the trunk’s reflection in the mirror. Sure enough, Hecuba was crouched down with her mirror in her hand. When she realized he’d seen her true form she stood up and revealed herself. Trumble shouted in surprise and backed away.

“Hecuba,” Stefan ground out, turning to see her standing there now in her true form. Only a mirror could divulge who she was while she was taking the form of another person or thing. “You disgust me!”

“Why? You knew I’d be back.”

“You were watching a private moment.”

“Nothing is private, and it was very entertaining. It almost looked for a minute as if she were falling for you.”

“She was, and I will make it happen again. Thanks to you giving her that alluring gold dress, it was easy even for a beast like me to get excited.”

“You fool. The curse will be broken by true love, not lust. You’re not even close. And for the record, I didn’t give her the gown. Why would I want to do anything to help you?”

“You didn’t? Then where did she get it?”

His squire spoke up next. “She said whoever gave it to her came into a locked room and also took her old gown.”

“Impossible. I have the only key and had just given it to you this morning,” said Stefan.

“True, but it was the oddest thing – she had a young handmaid in the room with her,” explained the squire. “I’m not sure how she got in, but perhaps she brought the gown.”

“You two are fools,” spat the witch. “Open your eyes and you will see that things are not always as they seem.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” asked Trumble. “Are you saying – a ghost or spirit put it there?”

“Haven’t you heard the stories about the ghost of Breckenridge?” asked the witch with a chuckle.

“You’re making that up,” snapped Stefan. “Now get out before I throw you out myself.”

“I’ll be watching as the fun unfolds,” she said, holding up her hand mirror and then leaving the room in a puff of green smoke.

“Do you really think there’s a ghost in the castle?” asked Trumble, looking one way and then the other.

“The only spirits in these castle walls can be found in the buttery,” said Stefan speaking of the room off the kitchen where the wine and ale were stored. “Now meet me in the great hall with a tankard of ale. No, make that a barrel, as I think I’ll share it with my brothers and get drunk one last time before I’m never able to enjoy spirits again.”

* * *

Bonnibel burst into her chamber and slammed the door. Then she ran to the bed and threw herself atop it, crying. How could she have just almost surrendered to the beast – and even enjoyed it? What was the matter with her? If the squire hadn’t walked in, she might have made love to Stefan. That thought scared her, and made her realize she really didn’t know herself.

But with her eyes closed, she forgot about Stefan’s outer appearance, and it was easy to picture him as that handsome man she’d seen in her dreams. She wasn’t sure what just happened or why he’d done it, but she wouldn’t let it happen again.

She didn’t know that she had a dark side too, until now. She had to remember she was betrothed to a man who would be showing up any day now, and she needed to keep her virtue intact. When she coupled with a man and conceived a child, she wanted to be sure the child was human – and not some sort of half-beast.

She heard a noise at the opposite side of the room and sat up in bed, wiping the tears from her eyes. “Sibeal? Is that you?”

Then she gasped when she saw the backside of a man in a black cloak disappearing through a secret passageway in the wall that wasn’t the hearth. “Wait! Stop! she cried, but the person disappeared through the hidden door. She jumped to her feet and hurried after them, managing to get through the door before it closed.

She stopped and listened, and heard the shuffling of feet from up ahead. Taking no time to think of her own safety, she hurried through the dark passageway, following the sound of footsteps up ahead of her.

Not paying attention to where she was going, she walked through the twisting labyrinth of corridors and didn’t stop until she came to the end. There were steps going upwards, and she realized she was at the east tower.

“Who are you?” she called out, her voice echoing off the cold walls. “Why were you in my chamber and why did you lead me here?” The footsteps were gone now, and all she could hear was her own breathing and thumping of her heart. She used her hand as a guide on the wall and climbed the stairs slowly. Then, at the top, she saw the door where she’d spied through the peephole at Stefan the other day. But this time, she could see the door was open a crack. Reaching out, she pushed it open. It swung forward with a groaning creak that only made her feel anxious. Was the person she was following in here? If so, would they try to harm her or even kill her?

She didn’t believe so, since they’d been in her chamber and hadn’t touched her. Curiosity overtook her and she moved forward into the room. One half of a shutter over the window creaked as it moved back and forth in the breeze. The other half lie on the ground.

Looking around the tower room, she took her time to survey it now that Stefan was gone. There was a large bed with bed-curtains, some trunks, a standing mirror, a few small tables and a large cupboard. She spotted her book, The Romance of the Rose, still lying open on the chair. And above it on a small table in the decanter of water was that same rose. No one else was in the room. She cautiously walked over to the book and was about to pick it up when a petal fell from the rose. Falling from the table above, it floated down and landed atop the open pages of her book.

“That’s odd,” she said aloud, watching as if in slow motion as the petal settled atop the pages and then withered before her very eyes. She had no more time to examine it, because a creak at the opposite side of the room caught her attention. If she wasn’t mistaken, the cupboard looked to be sitting on an angle. Sure enough, it had been moved. She could see a crack of light through yet another secret door in the wall.

“What is that?” Her father had never let her enter the tower, so she was unfamiliar with the secret room inside. She slid behind the cupboard, pushed open the secret door, and stepped inside a musty-smelling room. “Is anyone in here?” she asked in a shaky voice, standing upright, noticing a candle burning on a table inside the small and windowless room. Someone had been here recently, and left the candle lit. Or had they done it for her sake? After all, she almost felt as if she’d been lured here, so mayhap there was something this ghost wanted her to see.

She picked up the candle to light the walls around her, and gasped in shock by what she saw. Never in a million years had she thought she’d see something like this in her lifetime. The walls were lined with shelves, and stacked one atop another were dozens and dozens of books.