Page 34 of Beautiful Beast

“You’re burning the vegetables,” he says.

I yelp and turn my attention back to the stove, happy that I don’t have to face him when my face is so damn flushed. I squeeze my legs together to take away some of the ache because, damn, do I ever want this man to touch me.

While I alternate my attention between the chicken and vegetables, Adam disappears around the corner and returns with a bottle of wine.

“You have a wine cellar?” I ask, not surprised in the least.

He probably even has an indoor pool somewhere in this monstrosity of a house.

“I have a wine room.”

Wine is a splurge on my budget, but Adam lives in a completely different world. Even though he’s richer than me – and older – I’m still enjoying the hell out of his company.

I finish cooking while we share a glass of Pinot Noir, and then I plate dinner and bring it over to his shiny onyx table.

We spend the meal talking about why I became a librarian and how hard it was to earn and maintain my scholarship while working part-time. But if I didn’t, then I wouldn’t have had any money banked away for graduation or anywhere to live when the scholarship dried up.

Books were my best friends growing up and the perfect escape from my hellish childhood home. Now, nothing gives me greater joy than sharing that same love of reading with children. I’m always thinking up new initiatives to get more books into their little hands.

“Do you want kids?” I ask.

Adam takes a very long sip of wine before he levels his heated gaze at me. “No.”

“I didn’t mean with me,” I say, rolling my eyes. Not that the thought of being filled with this man hasn’t crossed my mind – approximately one thousand times – but I’d also be good with just practicing. “I meant in general.”

“My answer remains the same.”

“Why?”

“My father was a monster. His DNA makes up half of me. I wouldn’t be a good dad, Belle. I’m not even a good man.”

“That’s not true!” I exclaim.

I barely know him, but being around him is strangely comforting and familiar. It doesn’t take long to get a sense of a person, and even though Adam is the quintessential dark and dangerous, he has a lot of layers and is so much more than his façade.

Even the fact that he’s acknowledging his fear about being like his father shows that he isn’t like him – at all.

He winks at me. “You can’t save me, princess, so don’t bother trying.”

We’ll see about that.

“I brought cake,” I say, knowing that I won’t make any progress on the “you’re-more-than-your-upbringing” conversation tonight.

If that statement wasn’t true, then I certainly shouldn’t have children either because my mother is worse than a monster.

She’s nefarious.

Before I plate our dessert, I head to the bathroom to put on some mascara and lip gloss. I’m not really a make-up girl, but I can’t live without those two items.

I went grocery shopping after work and then came straight to Adam’s place without the chance to freshen up my face. Hopefully, my newly friendlier neighbor will want to spend some time closer together this evening, and I could use the confidence boost.

No one has ever made me so unsure of myself while also leaving me wanting so much more.

But when I enter the spa-like bathroom that is big enough to live in, there isn’t a single mirror or reflective surface anywhere. Despite all the glass and chrome in Adam’s place, I haven’t seen an actual mirror anywhere.

“Well, damn,” I mutter to no one.

When I return to the kitchen, my hands are on my hips.

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