Page 11 of Falling for the Beast

That was an obvious lie, and it frustrated her. This woman knew something and wouldn’t tell her. “Who hurts him?” she asked, determined to get to the bottom of whatever was happening.

Evelyn froze and slowly turned around. “It is best if we don’t speak of some things.”

“Why?” she whispered. “Is he doing something illegal?”

The woman’s gaze softened, and she patted Aribelle on the hand. “No. Of course not.”

“Then what’s going on?”

“He has suffered much since his father’s death. He deserves our kindness.” Evelyn folded up one of the bags and put it under the crook of her arm. “He’s a private man. If I were you, I’d keep your questions to yourself.”

Evelyn picked up the other bag and turned to leave.

“Wait,” Aribelle said, stopping Evelyn. “Can’t you tell me anything?”

She shook her head. “No. I’m sorry. He doesn’t want me to say anything, and it’s best not to make him angry.” Something flashed in her eyes. Was it fear? She disappeared around the corner.

Aribelle heard her speak briefly to Thaddeus and then leave. Frustration welled in Aribelle. What was going on around here? He wouldn’t harm anyone, would he?

She thought about his temper…the way he’d seemed to lose control. Maybe Evelyn was right. Maybe it was best not to anger him. Maybe he was…dangerous.

Before she could think about it, Thaddeus appeared in the doorway, and her heart beat wildly in her chest. He stood there, studying her. She tried to think of something to say to him. “Um, what would you like me to make for lunch?” Her voice sounded funny, but she couldn’t help it.

He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms across his chest. “Up to you.”

It was hard to think with him standing there, staring at her. A cold chill worked its way down her spine. She turned to the sink, mostly to catch her breath without him seeing how he was affecting her. “I could make sandwiches again.”

His footsteps sounded as he crossed the kitchen and stopped behind her. He was close enough she swore she could feel the heat from him radiating onto her back. “Are you okay?” he asked his deep voice just a whisper behind her.

She swallowed and clutched the edge of the sink. “I’m fine.”

From the corner of her eye, she saw him reach out as if he wanted to touch her shoulder, and she stiffened. He hesitated and then drew his hand back. Then he was gone. She turned to see she was alone in the kitchen, wondering if she’d imagined him there all along.

She took a shaky breath and pulled out the lunch meat, lettuce, tomato, and mayonnaise. Why was she so afraid? She needed to get a grip. If she acted fearful of him, he’d surely notice.

The sandwiches didn’t take long to make. She added chips and a pickle spear to the plates and set them on the table. Before calling him to lunch, she brought out two glasses and filled them with chilled water from the refrigerator.

Thaddeus entered the room before she had a chance to call him. He pulled out his chair and sat down. He was frowning, and she wondered if she’d upset him. She set the glasses down and sat opposite him. “I hope water is okay.”

He nodded and picked up his food, not saying anything else. They ate in silence. She tried not to look at him, not to notice how easily he could overpower her if he wanted to. His leather jacket didn’t do much to hide his muscles. Even his hands were muscular, beneath the scars. If he wanted to, he could… She swallowed a bite and shook her head. No. He hadn’t touched her this entire week. What made her think he was capable of harming her? Because of Evelyn? She barely knew the woman.

As she ate, she watched him. He was angry, but she didn’t get the feeling he was capable of hurting her. In fact, there was something gentle about him. Maybe it was the way his eyes carried compassion. Or the way he would look at her when he thought she wasn’t paying attention.

She imagined him as a misunderstood character like the Phantom of the Opera: hiding his face from the world, finding only cruelty there. But the Phantom did kill people, so maybe that wasn’t such a great comparison. The Grinch? That might work. Grouchy until someone was kind to him. Maybe if she showed Thaddeus some kindness he wouldn’t act so mean.

When he was finished eating, he picked up his plate and glass and went into the kitchen. She stared at him, not sure she’d ever seen him clean up after himself.

“I’m going upstairs,” he said as he came back into the room. “You can finish cleaning the library, and then be done for the day. Don’t come back until Monday.”

After he’d left the room, she sat there and stared at the potato chips left on her plate. He was agitated, but she wasn’t sure what she had done to upset him. She and Evelyn had spoken so quietly, he couldn’t have overheard. And she didn’t think he was mad over her cleaning the library.

She sighed, washed the dishes, and finished dusting the library. He didn’t come down, and she left without saying anything else to him.

Thaddeus stood at his bedroom window and watched Aribelle walk across the circular driveway and climb into her car. Sleep had evaded him again, so he was left to stew about the situation he had allowed to happen. The girl was asking too many questions. Noticing too much. He needed to fire her. Should have done it already, but didn’t have the courage.

She was too beautiful. Too intelligent. And too much a reminder of things he couldn’t have. He let the curtain drop. He knew what he had to do.

Aribelle turned on the oven and pulled out the frozen lasagna she had planned to make last night. It was meant for two people. She’d purchased it before her father had passed, but hadn’t had a chance to make it. She couldn’t keep shoving it to the back of the freezer. Even if she had to save the leftovers, she needed to make it. Her throat grew scratchy and she swallowed and pulled her sweater tighter around her.

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