Page 37 of Beau and the Beast

He’d always known how hollow it had all been. None of that mattered to a creature that was banished to a penthouse, trapped by his own greed and unscrupulousness.

But he could still remember those interviews, the way that the reporters' eyes went glassy as he answered their questions. They wanted to know about trends and the market and his business prowess, or what outrageous and expensive trinket he'd purchased the week before.

Beau seemed to want to know abouthim—or at least the man that he'd been before he'd been cursed.

Perhaps that's the product of someone writing a biography instead of some glossy magazine profile,he thought to himself.Or the product of the $50 million price tag attached to the project.

Still, he couldn't get over the thought that Beau was digging to find the things that made Wolframgood.

* * *

Beau wolfed down his lunch—another cheese sandwich and a cold cup of coffee left over from the morning—before pushing back from the kitchen bar and preparing to go back into his interview with Wolfram.

Violet looked at him like he was a madman.

"You can take a longer break than that," she said. "The whole book doesn't have to get written today."

"I know," he said. "But down that wing, there's someone nobody else but us in the world knows about—and for now, he's all I can get my brain to think about."

A smile tugged at her lips.

"Before you go, you can give me a list of the clothes you want and the sizes you need," she said. "We'll send someone out for some things so that you don't have to sleep in Song's castoffs again tonight."

"Hand-me-downs are fine, really."

She rolled her eyes. "It won't put us out. I'm sure Wolfram would prefer that you're comfortable."

"I'm more comfortable with not being an imposition," Beau said.

He strode away, hoping that she wouldn't get in his way any longer. Clothes were the last thing on his mind—and his sweater and trousers from the day before were just as good as any.

When he arrived back at Wolfram's study, the man had curled around a book, laying on his side on one of the larger cushions in one corner of the room. He moved to get up but Beau raised a hand.

"Please, I'll join you here if you don't mind," Beau said, snagging a cushion up off the floor and walking toward him.

Wolfram nodded but still sat up.

He yawned in a silent gesture and Beau was fully aware for the first time of why someone might be afraid of him. When Wolfram opened his mouth, Beau realized just what a large maw the man possessed, lined with huge, sharp teeth that gleamed white. It made the skin over his spine prick with anxiety, made him feel like he should take a step back, and without realizing it, Beau began to worry one of his cuticles between his own very small, very human incisors.

"I'm sorry," Wolfram said. "This is past when I normally retire."

"Oh," Beau said, gathering himself. "I... would you like me to come back tomorrow?"

"No," he said quickly, golden eyes going wide. "Not at all. It's no good to be so nocturnal. You can help me get back to a better schedule."

Beau nodded.

"What's wrong?" Wolfram asked after a moment.

"What? Nothing. I'm great."

"You're chewing your fingernails," he said with the hint of a sneer.

"Sorry," Beau said, dropping his hand. "Disgusting habit."

"Did I do something to make you nervous?"

The question was so gentle. The enormous man sounded almost dismayed, disappointed. Beau had to bite down a smile.

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