Page 69 of The Tallest Tower (Underbelly Enchanted)

“Please bother us.” I hold my dress in one hand and place the other on the stair banister to steady myself as we head down. “Too much alone time with Felix Malone is good for no one.”

She sniggers, more relaxed now that I’m doing as her master wants and not arguing. “Let the man romance you, Ms. Cannon.”

I choke out a scoff and concentrate on each stair. To fall on my ass would be the very worst fate I can think of right this moment.Ironic, considering whose home I’m in.“I do not wish to be romanced by that man.”

“You didn’t wish to wear a dress for him either,” she smarts. “Yet, you look stunning.”

“I’m here to eat. Have a glass of wine. Tell him to his face I can’t stand him.” I glance to her and smirk. “Then I’m going to bed, alone, and sleeping away another evening in captivity.”

“Are plants growing in a greenhouse, growing in captivity? Or are they placed in the perfect conditions for their own wellbeing?”

“Plants are not thinking beings.” I counter her flawed argument before she takes off with it. “They live, yes. They breathe. But they are not people, andpeopleimprisoned cannot grow.”

“Perhaps you should not consider it captivity, then. Rather, a shelf to be placed upon for safekeeping.”

“A rose by any other name…” I know she knows the rest of that old saying, so I let my words drift off and cast my eyes down the stairs.

I was expecting emptiness at the bottom. A view of the foyer floor, free of people. So when my gaze stops on Felix himself, dressed in a suit and wearing a smile, my steps falter. More than that, my stomach flips, my throat goes dry, and my resolve weakens.

He looks so handsome. So pressed. His hair is fresh and combed after a shower. His eyes, glittering with smug satisfaction as he leans against the wall, his attention completely and wholly focused on me.

But he doesn’t speak as I traverse the final flight.

He doesn’t break the stillness in the air.

“Stop staring at me.” I hate that my stomach continues to quiver with nerves. And that part of me—at least half—wonders if I look pretty.

Who cares what I look like!

Who cares what he thinks!

“You’re making things weird,” I scowl.

He coughs out a taunting laugh and steps away from his post, extending his hand and taking mine, though I don’t offer it. His fingers wrap around my palm, his touch, heated and profound. “You look delicious, Darling.” He pulls me closer, tugging me off-balance, and catches me against his chest, when I would rather stumble unassisted and put my head through the wall.

Our breath mingles, tension making mine race. But he’s Felix Malone, and an encounter with this man wouldn’t be complete without him doing something totally odd. He places his free hand beneath my chin, forcing my face up, and nudges my mouth open while I can only feel it happen in speechless disbelief. He leans in closer, nose-first, then takes a long, heady whiff, like smelling someone’s breath is entirely acceptable.

“Minty,” he ponders, his nose practically touching my lips. “Sweet. But not deathbed-sweet.”

“Nice of you to notice.” Impatient, I press my hands to his chest and attempt to push away. But he’s stronger. More determined. “Let me go.”

“Never.” Bringing me in close again, he presses a tender kiss to the very corner of my lips and lingers there. “I never want you to leave, Christabelle. I like having you here.”

“Well, I like freedom.” I take a step back to break the hold he has on me.

Damn my heart for the way it thunders. Damn my entire being for picturing, if only for a moment, what staying would look like for me.

It would mean no moreCannon Daily. No more work. No more Edward. Or Dana. Or my apartment.

Or my father.

“If I wanted to be here,” I rasp, hating how my body betrays me. How my lungs scramble for more air. How my soul yearns for clarity. “I would stay of my own free will. You should want someone whowantsto be here, Felix.”

He considers my words in silence, but he offers the crook of his arm… and takes my hand when I don’t accept his gesture immediately.

He wraps my arm through his and ignores the half-dozen sets of eyes that watch us. Mary, who remains on the stairs. Micah, who waitsat the end of the hall, near the kitchen. Guards, who ensure their boss isn’t butchered by the woman he won’t let leave.

“What have you discovered since we last spoke?” He begins walking, taking me with him, and leading me into a hall I walked earlier today.I guess he has no response for my last comment.“Anything new?”

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