Page 26 of Isabelle and the Beast

Adam doesn’t wait for me to finish my sentence. With one arm around my waist and the other under my legs, he scoops me up and holds me against his chest.

“Wha—what are you doing?” I manage to say through chattering teeth.

“Carrying you back to the castle,” he grunts, walking through the snow in the direction he came. “You need to get dry clothes and sit in front of the fire immediately.”

As much as I want to argue with him and maintain my dignity, I can’t deny how incredibly nice it feels to be curled up against his chest. The warmth from his body seeps into mine, and for a delirious moment, I rest my head on his chest. Man, this guy must work out.

His head ducks to look at me. “Yes, I do work out.”

Oh, my lord. “Did I say that out loud?” My eyes widen, my stomach erupting in butterflies.

Adam just smirks down at me and keeps walking.

Thoroughly humiliated, I consciously keep my mouth shut as Adam navigates through the forest and emerges at the front entrance of the castle. Half of me fills with relief at the thought of warmth, but the other half dreads the idea of being trapped there with him.

But he did come to rescue me.

And he didn’t just send Lionel or one of the other footmen. He came out here himself. I look up at him, wondering why he made the effort to come get me in the snow. I guess he’s not a murderer after all.

“Lionel!” he calls as soon as we enter the castle. “Get Brigette. Isabelle needs new clothes. And start the fire in the study.”

“Yes, of course,” Lionel replies, then rushes away.

“I’ll be f-fine,” I say, my teeth chattering.

“You’re risking hypothermia,” Adam says, his voice gruff. “Don’t argue.” He looks down at me, and I’m surprised again by the softness in his expression. “Let me take care of you.”

I’m completely speechless. What girl doesn’t want to be taken care of by a strong man? I’ve been sure he hates me this whole time…but maybe it’s just a front.

He brings me to my room and gently lays me on the bed, where Brigette has already laid out a fresh set of clothes. She’s wearing a robe and looks worried.

“I’m fine,” I say weakly, and she looks even more nervous.

“Call me when she’s dressed,” Adam says. “I’ll be waiting outside.” He exits the room with heavy, dramatic footsteps.

“What were you thinking?” Brigette asks, rushing to take off my wet clothes.

I ignore her question. “I can do it myself,” I say, even though I really can’t. My muscles feel like they’re solid, immovable.

She waves me off and continues peeling the clothes off my body. I’d be embarrassed but I’m too cold. “You could have died out there!”

“I’m well aware,” I mutter. She doesn’t speak anymore, just bundles me up in new clothes and slippers, but I’m still freezing.

She looks at me when I’m fully dressed, and I think she’s even more nervous than before. “Mr. Stone! She’s ready. Please hurry!”

He rushes back into the room and scoops me up again.

“This is really unnecessary,” I protest, even though I’m frozen to the bone.

“It’s really not,” he replies, and he doesn’t stop moving until we’re in the study. He sets me down on a wingback chair next to the fire and wraps a furry blanket around me.

The fire finally seems to do something to warm me up. My whole body is shaking, but I can feel the cold start to decline.

“Your lips are blue,” he says.

“I’ll be okay,” I whisper. “I’m starting to feel better.”

He watches me, and I can tell he’s debating something. After a moment of hesitation, he unwraps the blanket from around my shoulders.

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