Page 69 of Beauty and the Daddy
"What's going on, Belle?" I ask, softer now. "You're different. Distant."
"Nothing's going on."
"Council thinks you're a risk," I whisper.
"And what do you think?" Her eyes widen.
"I think you're under my protection and need to tell me where you go."
"I'm also not your princess." Her eyes glow with rage. "I'm your payment. You don't need to protect me all that much. You could always find another me."
I step closer again, needing to tell her there will never be another her. When I reach for her waist, she flinches away.
Another red flag.
Something dark and dangerous rises in me. I slam my palm against the wall beside her head, making her jump.
"You think that's all this is?" I demand, my face inches from hers. "You think I'd bring just anyone into my home? Around my daughter? In front of the council? That you're replaceable?"
Her eyes widen, but she doesn't back down. "I don't know what to think anymore."
I press closer, caging her against the wall with my body. She's trembling, her chest heaving.
"You're mine," I tell her slowly. "Not because of your father's debt. Not because of the council or the family or any of that bullshit. You're mine because I chose you."
I brush my thumb across her lower lip, gentle as a whisper. "And you chose me too."
Her breathing stutters. "Luca..."
I can see the war in her eyes—wanting to pull away, wanting to lean in. Something's scaring her, and it's not me.
Belle Donovan doesn't scare easy.
"Tell me what's wrong," I murmur, letting my hand drift to her neck, her collarbone. "Whatever it is, I'll fix it."
She shoves me, hard.
"You can't fix everything, Luca," she says.
Frustration flares in my chest. I shove back, pinning her against the wall with my body. Her gasp is all I hear before I see her pupils blast open.
"Nothing's broken," I tell her, my lips hovering just above hers. "Not you. Not me. Not us."
She's breathing hard now, her hands fisted in my shirt, and the next thing I know, she's pulling me closer.
To silence the voices in my head, I crush my lips to hers. She makes a sound like she's dying, and then she's kissing me back, violent and desperate. Her nails dig into my shoulders, my neck, anywhere she can reach.
We're kissing like we're trying to hurt each other, like we're trying to break something open. Her teeth graze my bottom lip,drawing blood. I groan, lifting her against the wall, and her legs wrap around my waist.
"Tell me to stop," I dare her, my hands sliding under her shorts.
Her answer is to bite my lip harder, drawing me in deeper. We're falling, both of us, into something neither of us understands yet. But I know one thing for certain?—
Whatever storm is coming, we're facing it together.
14
BELLE
