Page 35 of Isabelle and the Beast

Seventeen

ADAM

Islept horribly last night.

Visions of Isabelle, her face glowing in delight as she pelted me with snowballs—well, attempted to pelt me with snowballs—kept appearing in my dreams. In one iteration, I pulled her by the waist, her warm body against mine, and pressed my lips to hers.

I’m clearly going insane.

I climb out of bed around six, finally acknowledging I won’t be able to sleep any more. Is this how Isabelle felt those nights when she couldn’t sleep? I feel more empathy now, and possibly some understanding of why she thought entering my office wasn’t such a terrible idea.

I slowly pace the halls, finding my way down the stairs and into my office. I figure I’ll pass the time reading over the paperwork from the lawyer again.

Lionel knocks on the door. “Good morning, Mr. Stone.”

“Hello, Lionel.” I wave him in.

He enters, carrying my hot cup of tea. He normally doesn’t bring it in until eight, but he must have heard me wake and got up himself.

“Phone service is back up,” he says. “I thought you’d like to know.”

“Oh, is it?” I pull my phone out of the top drawer of my desk and plug it into the charger. There’s never much reason to keep it charged when the cell service drops out. I’m also not exactly dying to hear what anyone has to say outside this castle: rumors about where I am and who I’m with, or whatreallyhappened that night with Tristan. Perhaps Jim, Isabelle’s father and my manager, will call to let me know that another sponsor has dropped out.

All things I want nothing to do with.

But thinking of Jim makes me think of Isabelle. She’d probably want to know about the cell service. I’m sure her father has been panicking since he hasn’t heard from her in days now.

As I wait for my phone to boot up, I take a sip of tea. “Have you informed Isabelle yet?”

“About the phone situation? No. I figured Brigette would do it once Isabelle wakes.”

I set down my tea and push my chair back. “I’ll go do it.”

Lionel tilts his head to the side. “Sir?”

I pause, hesitating. “Do you think it’s a bad idea?”

“I—” Lionel cuts himself short, pressing his lips together in a tight smile. “I think it’s a wonderful idea.”

With a curt nod, I exit the office, heading down the hall to her room. But the door to her bedroom—Lily’s room—is wide open, and she’s not in the bed.

Ah. She must be in the theater.

I retrace my steps and walk down the stairs and around the corner, quickly pushing open the door to the theater.

As soon as I walk inside, I realize what an intrusion I’ve made.

Sprawled along one of the couches is Isabelle. She’s lying on her stomach, her face turned toward the front of the couch. Herlong, brown hair cascades behind her. My fingers itch to run through her strands, a compulsory desire to feel her, not just see her from a distance.

I ball my hands into fists, suppressing the urge. But I still take a moment to observe her beauty. She truly is stunning, even more so to me than her sisters. And while she has a fire to her, there’s kindness and consideration that is absent from her sisters’ personalities. Just seeing the way she treats Theo and the staff proves her heart is pure.

I smile at the bowl of popcorn lying on the ground, the one I asked Lionel to get for her last night after our snowball fight. It’s empty, and I’m glad she enjoyed it.

I turn to leave, feeling awkward for entering without her approval, when I hear her stir. “Brigette?” she asks, her voice groggy.

I clear my throat and stay facing the door. “No, I’m sorry. It’s me. Er, Adam.”

“Oh.” She pauses. “You can turn around. You’ve seen me asleep before.”

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