Page 8 of Falling for the Beast

He stood by her for several moments, and she wondered how long she could stay perfectly still. He let out a sigh and left the room. She heard him climb the stairs, and then the noise of the upstairs shower turned on. She peeked at the clock. Seven-thirty. What had he been doing?

She stretched and rubbed her shoulders. Best to get up and do something. Breakfast sounded like a good idea. She folded her blanket and put it away in the closet. The refrigerator was not well stocked, but she found some bacon and eggs. She turned on a burner and started the bacon frying.

She wasn’t sure how he liked his eggs, but she figured scrambled was safe so she grabbed a bowl and started beating. When she turned and found him standing in the doorway, she yelped, clutching her hand to her chest.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” he said.

His leather jacket hoodie was up, but not low enough to hide his face, and his eyes smiled at her. It didn’t quite reach his lips, though. Her mouth fell open and she gaped at him. “Your face…”

He turned away.

“No, I mean…” She set down the bowl and reached out, gently turning his face. Her fingertips tingled where she touched his skin. His eye was no longer swollen. His bruises were small and yellow like the injuries had happened a week ago. His split lip had turned into a tiny scab. “You’re almost healed. How?”

“It looked worse than it was.”

She must have had a skeptical look on her face because he added, “And I heal fast.”

Aribelle stared up into his eyes. They were mesmerizing. Remarkably green. They could be colored contacts, but something told her they weren’t. His words sunk in and she looked down, picking up his hand that had been bandaged. There wasn’t even a scab. Several scars marred his skin, and she wasn’t sure which had been his most recent injury. She touched the biggest one, extending from his thumb to his pinky.

He pulled his hand away.

Too many questions swirled around in her head, but she knew he would become angry if she asked them. She turned back to the bowl. “The eggs will be ready soon.” She poured the mixture into the pan and it sizzled.

He nodded and made a grunting sound as he walked into the dining room. She wanted to shout, “You’re welcome!” but refrained. She was being paid, it wasn’t like she was doing him a favor.

She served up the bacon and eggs on two plates and brought them to the table. She sat across from him again. Sitting beside him was too intimate somehow. He forked a pile of eggs and put them in his mouth. She watched him for approval. He nodded and kept eating.

Was that all the thanks she would get? Oh, well. At least he didn’t yell at her. She picked up her fork. After a few moments of silence, she couldn’t stand it anymore. “Does it hurt?”

He looked at her in surprise. “What?”

“Your face.”

He shook his head and turned back to his plate. “Not anymore.”

She took a bite and chewed thoughtfully. “Do you have any family?”

“No,” he said, confirming her suspicions.

“Must be lonely.”

“I like being alone,” he said, in almost a growl.

“Why?”

He glared at her. “It’s quieter.”

Okay then. She could take a hint. She concentrated on finishing her breakfast. When they were done eating, she cleared the table and washed the dishes. Thaddeus went into the living room and plopped down on the recliner.

As she worked, she couldn’t help but wonder what he had done last night. Where had he gone? Or had he spent the night racing his motorcycle down the quiet streets? And how did he keep hurting himself? She didn’t see any new injuries this morning. Maybe that was a good sign. But why had his face healed so quickly?

Chapter 5

Thaddeus tried to sleep onthe recliner as Aribelle cleaned, but couldn’t. He was too aware of her smell. Her every move. He could hear her breathing. Her heart beating. If he wanted to torture himself, he was doing a good job of it.

Why had she stayed the night? The logical answer was that she’d been worried about him, but that couldn’t be it, could it? He’d been rude to her. Worse than rude. He’d been awful.

And yet, she held compassion for him. Had made him breakfast without asking. And when she touched his face…he’d felt an electricity he hadn’t felt in a decade. She made him feel something. Things he’d buried long ago.

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