Seven Kisses: A Beauty and the Beast Dark Romance (7 page)

And yet the last time she’d seen him, he’d shoved a needle in her neck. Not exactly a kind and caring act. But what did she expect?  After all, he’d been put in that beast mask for a reason. He was supposed to stand for her—well, for
Suzanne’s
—unhinged desires.

“He wouldn’t… I mean… he’s not going to hurt me, is he?”

Samuel curled his lip slowly. Gerard did nothing.

“Do you know him?  Who is he?”

Why was she asking the monkeys?  They weren’t going to answer. Anyway, Gerard and Samuel were in Madame’s employ as much as the beast was. They weren’t going to rat him out even if he was pure evil.

Gabrielle rose from her chair, forgetting how weak her legs had gone. She tumbled down, catching herself on the corner of the table, then directed her bum back into her seat. “How long am I going to feel like this?  My muscles won’t do what I tell them to.”

The monkeys gazed at her sympathetically. Samuel took one hand and massaged it with his long, waxy fingers.  When he moved up her arm, Gabrielle screamed, shaking him off.  He tumbled across the room like an acrobat, coming to rest against the bathroom door.

“I’m sorry! Oh, I’m so sorry, Samuel. I didn’t mean to strike you, just my arm…”  Rolling up her sleeve to reveal the deep bruising, she said, “It hurts. A lot.”

Samuel picked himself up and warily crossed the room to inspect her wound.

“I’m so sorry.”

He looked at her sympathetically, and nodded.

“So,” she said, trying to lift the mood.  “I’m supposed to pick out a dress, am I?”

The monkeys jumped into action, climbing the rack and holding up one dress after another.

A low-cut satin gown?

“No. I want something that’ll cover my bruises.”

Samuel picked another sleeveless number and dropped it to the floor without awaiting Gabrielle’s response. Gerard did the same.

“Wow,” Gabrielle said.  “You guys really get me.  You listen and you know what I’m saying.”

“Eee! Eee! Eee!”
Of course we do! Now back to the task at hand.

Gerard held up a white dress that gleamed with crystal beading. It had a scalloped scoop neck and lovely long sleeves, which were as intricately beaded as the bodice. She had to admit, it was a gorgeous gown.  Samuel obviously thought so too, because he stood on the dress rack and applauded.

“Guys, don’t be silly.  That’s a wedding gown. I can’t wear that on a first date. The beast’ll run a mile!”

Gerard shook it as if to ask, “How often do you get the chance to wear a gown like this?”

“I know,” she said.  “But no, I can’t wear white. I don’t
want
to wear white.  What else have we got?”

Samuel shrugged, as if to say, “Suit yourself, lady.”

A smile bled across Gabrielle’s lips as he held up an atrocious orange crepe dress.  “That is wrong for sooo many reasons!”

Samuel shook his head as if to say, “Would you quit being so difficult?”

“I’m sorry.”  Gabrielle giggled as the ugly dress fluttered to the floor.  “I’ll pick something, I swear.  What else have you got?”

Gerard started to lift one gown, but faltered. It must have been too heavy for the little monkey.  He needed Samuel’s help to hold it up.

“Wow. That is…
wow
!”

The monkey butlers smiled with pride as they showcased a dark blue gown with a Victorian bodice. It had a cream-coloured lace overlay that would cover her arms. That and the huge, luxurious skirting made it pretty much perfect.

“What material is that?”  She leaned far enough forward to take the heavy fabric between her thumb and fingers.  “Is it silk, do you think? Raw silk?  Wow, it’s so beautiful. Reminds me of a cross between Scarlet O’Hara and Downton Abbey. Don’t you think?”

The monkey butlers gazed at her, wide-eyed.

“You don’t get to watch much TV around here, huh?”  Cocking her head, Gabrielle asked, “What do you guys do for fun?  Do you ever get to be just… monkeys? Do you ever get to play?”

They didn’t answer, of course, and she couldn’t read the looks on their faces, so she turned her attention back to the dress.  “Do you think it’ll fit me?  Only one way to find out, I guess.”

Pressing her palms down on the table, Gabrielle eased her weight forward and heaved herself toward the dress.  Samuel and Gerard dropped it to the floor so she could step into the middle.

“I guess I need to take off this nightgown, huh?”  Gabrielle laughed nervously as the monkeys swung down from the dress rack.  “Feels a little weird, you know, the idea of getting undressed in front of you two. Which is stupid, I know, since you’ve seen me naked before.”

Standing on either side of the dress, the monkeys covered their eyes with both hands.

Gabrielle’s heart sobbed a little.  “Oh, you guys!  You are so sweet.  I’ll tell you when you can look.”

When Gabrielle lifted the cotton night dress over her head, she caught her reflection in the dresser mirror.  The sight of her naked body made her feel odd and uncomfortable. 
Look at those bruises!  How could you have let this happen to yourself?  Why didn’t you fight back when he attacked you? Or when she did?

“I couldn’t fight back,” Gabrielle whispered at her reflection.  “You know I couldn’t. Don’t be so mean to me.”

Why are you just standing there? This is your chance! The monkeys aren’t looking, so make your escape!

“There’s nowhere to go.”

You’re making excuses. Get out!

“I don’t know where.”

Find a door!

Gabrielle teetered around in a full circle.  “There isn’t a door in here.”

Then how did the monkeys get in?

“Through the heating vents? I don’t know!”

You’re making excuses.

“No I’m not!”

Samuel parted his fingers to look at her.  “Ooo. Ooo. Ooo?”
Who are you talking to?

“The voices in my head,” Gabrielle muttered as she bent her knees.  Reaching into the gown’s lacy sleeves, she pulled it to her naked chest. The heavy silk bodice felt cold against her nipples and she shivered.  “Not sure how I’m going to stand in this thing. My legs are so wobbly.”

“Eee! Eee! Eee!”
Sit! Sit! Sit!
Samuel brought her a low ottoman and helped her sit while Gerard set one of the chairs behind her. He jumped up and started yanking cords, closing the open back of her gown.

While Gerard dressed her, Simon leapt into her lap, making her laugh as he clung to her thighs with his naked toes.  “What are you doing, silly monkey?”

He held up a necklace, beaming like a five-year-old, supremely pleased with himself.

When the crystal gemstone sparkled in the dim light, Gabrielle gasped.  “What is this thing?  Not a diamond, I hope.”

Grinning ear to ear, Samuel nodded.

“Can’t be. It’s huge.”  She touched the cool stone, touched the warm gold backing.  “A diamond this size would have to be worth… I don’t even know how much!”

Leaning forward, Samuel hooked the jewel around her neck.  When Gerard finished cinching her into the heavy gown, she grasped the table and stood up.  Her knees quaked under the weight of the silk dress, but when she caught sight of herself in the mirror, her spirit soared.

“Wow,” she said. “I look… I look…
wow
!”

If the gem sitting against her chest wasn’t a real diamond, it certainly shone like one.  And the dress!  It pushed up her breasts to a spectacular degree and curved out at the hips, making her body look every bit as luscious as the fabric. She could feel that she’d lost weight over the past few days, considering she’d barely eaten a thing, but her body still curved in all the right places.

Her stomach chose just that moment to gurgled, and she covered it sheepishly with her hand.  “Oh man, I just got really hungry. Is there anything to eat around here?”

Samuel pointed to his head, and then to hers.

“I don’t get it. You want me to eat… what?”

Samuel shook his head in exasperation.

“What? I’m sorry! I don’t understand.” And then it occurred to her that he was referring to her hair, which stuck up in every direction. It was the one thing that didn’t look prim and refined.  “Oh, I get it. You want me to work on my hair?”

Flicking his finger over his head like he was saying “Eureka,” Samuel led her to the dimly lit mirror above the low dresser. The dresser itself was covered with a long sheet of lace. On top of that, a silver brush and comb set with inlaid gemstones sat alongside antique hairpins and clips.

Leaning her weight against the solid dresser, Gabrielle fingered the accessories.  “This stuff is beautiful. Whose is it?”

Gerard tapped her left hand, which hung at her side, and then pressed one finger against it, as if to say, “Yours. All this is yours.”

Gabrielle wasn’t sure how to respond.  “But whose was it before? Where did it come from?”

Both monkeys looked away, furrowing their brows, and yet trying very transparently to act casual. Gabrielle had always thought it was only humans who could obfuscate, but obviously monkeys could do it too.  Were they Madame’s clothes, she wondered? But no, they were too old, and they came in so many different sizes and styles. It seemed like a cross-section of women’s formal attire since the turn of the last century, and even before. Since the 1800s, at least.

Whose dress am I wearing?

Gabrielle picked up the comb. Was it ivory? Wow, must be old. There’d been a moratorium on ivory since… well, probably since before she was born.  A good long time, for sure.

She ran it through her hair, then played with the clips and hair pins until everything agreed to stay put.  Cocking her head, she looked herself in the eye and smiled. “What do you think, guys?  Do I look good or what?”

When she found them in the mirror’s dull reflection, she realized they were both cleaning the room—tossing gowns on the rack and then moving a Japanese room divider in front of it, placing jewels in antique cases, tidying every surface quick, quick, quick.

“What’s going on?” she asked, but they ignored her and carried on tidying. “Do you want help with anything? Want me to… I don’t know…”

Gabrielle turned her attention to the mirror, wondering if she should find a cloth and remove the fine layer of dust covering its surface. And then a memory of the subterranean cell struck her like a punch in the gut.  Mme de Villeneuve had been watching through the mirror.  Was she watching through this one now?

A nauseating dizziness spiralled through Gabrielle’s gut as she edged to the side of the dresser.  There were a good two inches between the mirror and the wall.  She felt behind it with her fingers, just to make sure it wasn’t a trick of the eye. Nothing there. It was just a normal mirror.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Gabrielle spun around, resting the bustle of her dress against the dresser. Samuel and Gerard stopped moving simultaneously and looked to the bookshelf, as though they were hearing something she wasn’t.  Moments later, the shelves began to rattle and the books trembled, threatening to jump.

“What’s happening?” Gabrielle asked the monkeys. “Is it an earthquake?”

The floorboards trembled as the entire wooden shelf inched forward like a door.  The lamp at her side flickered as a misty haze filled the room.  Gabrielle dug her nails into the dresser.  She couldn’t swallow. She couldn’t breathe. She ached to know what was emerging from the haze, but at the same time she was afraid to find out.

And then from the darkness, he emerged.

The beast unchained…

Chapter 9

Gabrielle’s knees gave out. She tumbled to the floor.

“Eee! Eee! Eee!”

Samuel and Gerard rushed to her side, and by the time she’d looked up, the mysterious smoking bookshelf had closed. She was alone in the antechamber with the beast and two monkeys.

“Please don’t…” 
Please don’t what?
“…don’t hurt me.”

Every step the beast took seemed huge and heavy. Was it Gabrielle’s imagination, or did each one echo through the floorboards? No, couldn’t be. The beast was only a man.  He wasn’t an animal. And he proved it by pulling out a chair and reaching for her hand, which she extended to him with a grateful sort of fear.

“You’re wearing clothes,” she said.

He could say the same to her, but he didn’t. He only pushed in her chair and swept around the small table, pulling out the other.

“Wait,” she said, before he could sit.  “I just want to… it’s silly, but I’ve never seen you in clothes and I just want to
look
at you for a moment.”

The beast gazed at his outfit, tugging on his dark jacket—was it charcoal or black?  When he rolled his shoulders, Gabrielle could see that the lining was a vibrant shade of red. That made her smile, because it matched his tie.  His shirt was crisp and white. The dark fedora gave him the look of a Guys and Dolls era gangster.

Cocking his head, he seemed to ask, “What?”  Or maybe she misread him and he was really asking, “Can I sit down yet?”

“Sorry,” she said.  “It’s just that you look really…
good
.”

His gaze travelled slowly down her neck with such heat she felt it like a trail of kisses.

“You like the dress?” she asked.  “Gerard and Samuel helped pick it out. And can you believe this necklace?  They said it was real, but I don’t know. I mean, a diamond this big?”  She felt a blush come on as he stared at her. “Sorry, I’m talking too much.  It’s just that you don’t seem to talk at all and I guess I don’t like silence. I always jump to fill in the blanks.”

The beast sat across the small table, worlds away and yet so intimately connected to her that she couldn’t help feeling a tight bond. If only she could see what was under that mask. He must have a face under the false fur. What did it look like?

“Mme de Villeneuve sent me this,” Gabrielle said, and handed him the notecard.  “So, I guess we’re having a date. Where are you taking me? To the movies?”

When his eyes widened, she laughed to show him she was kidding.

“I know, I know,” she said. “The opera.”

He smiled, this time, and even under that pesky mask she could see his handsomeness shining through.

“Are you ever going to say anything?”

The beast turned and, as if by his body’s command, Samuel and Gerard sprang through a flap in the back of the bookshelf.  She hadn’t even noticed them go. Shows how much attention she paid to her surroundings when the beast was in the room.

“What have you got there?” she asked the monkey butlers, and Samuel held up two wine glasses.

Hopping up on the ottoman, Gerard placed a bottle of wine on the table and then sped back through the flap. The monkeys disappeared and emerged time and again with trays of cheeses, breads, olives, puffy little appetizers.

“A veritable feast,” Gabrielle said, placing a cloth napkin in her lap. She didn’t want to get this gorgeous dress dirty.  “Would you like to pour the wine?  This food looks scrumptious. It’s weird. I haven’t been hungry for days, I guess because my stomach was getting used to having no food in it, but now I feel like I could eat a horse.”

Smirking, the beast filled their glasses. The wine shone like garnets inside that beautiful crystal, and though Gabrielle rarely drank, she suddenly craved heady escape.

She took one glass by the stem and raised it.  “To… hmmm… I don’t know what. To escape? To capture? To you? To us?”

The beast eyed the spread.

“You’re right,” she said.  “To food!”

They clinked glasses, but the moment the fine crystal touched Gabrielle’s bottom lip, she froze. She’d been drugged so many times since she’d arrived at this place.  Would the wine knock her out?

She looked to the beast, but he’d already drained his glass and grabbed the bottle to pour another. No, of course the wine wasn’t drugged. She knew how they operated here at Loindici Manor. If they wanted her drugged, they’d stab her with a needle.

Picking up a bit of brie, Gabrielle held it over her china plate and asked, “Why did you drug me last night? Or whenever that was. I don’t have a very good sense of time in here.”

The beast glanced at the door to her new bedroom, which was now closed.

“To move me?” she asked.  “So you could transport me from that little windowless cell to somewhere a little nicer? Is that it?”

His Cheshire grin gave him away.

“Well, thank you.”  Gabrielle slipped the soft brie into her mouth and savoured its gentleness on her tongue.  “Mmm… oh, this is good.”  She took a small piece of baguette and broke its crusty edge with her teeth.  “Oh, this is good too.”

Olives—salty, Mediterranean, strong. Another bite of bread to cleanse the palette.  Wine—didn’t taste drugged, tasted of blackberries and oak. More cheese. Was that Gouda? Smoked Gouda! Oh, and this was Emmental, surely. More olives, more bread, a walnut for variety and then… what was this? Maple cheddar! Its sweetness danced on her tongue as the cheese’s creaminess spread across her palate.

“Aren’t you going to eat anything?” she asked the beast.

He sat back, watching her. Rather than feeling self-conscious about pigging out, she felt rather sexy. This wasn’t a hot dog eating competition, after all. These were sensual foods. Every time she slipped an olive between her lips, she thought of him.  In fact, most things made her think of him.

Taking a sip of wine, she looked him in the eye. What was
he
thinking?  She set her glass down and asked, “You really aren’t going to talk to me? Ever? About anything?”

The beast looked away, grasped an olive, chewed it.

“That’s disappointing. I’d love to know why you’re here.  I can’t tell if Madame has taken you captive or if you’ve consented to this strange life.  Are you a patient, like me?  Well, not like me, because I’m not really a patient. Mme de Villeneuve thinks I’m this girl Suzanne, but I’m not.  She ran into the woods after her car left and I just happened to be standing around and I thought I might see some celebrities. Serves me right, I suppose.”

The beast cocked his head, and his expression changed in an instant. Rising from his chair, he paced the room violently. This time Gabrielle was sure she could feel each step vibrating up through the floor.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

He shook his head wildly, seeming pained beyond measure.

“Are you okay? Do you want me to… I don’t know what… call for help?”

She rose and came to him, but he grasped her shoulders so tightly she felt his short nails digging into her flesh. Rather than pulling away, she stepped closer. She wrapped her arms around his waist and felt his heart thumping in his chest. She pressed herself to him fully and embraced his heat while he set his chin on her head.

“I wish you would speak to me. Whoever you are, whatever you’ve done, you can tell me about it.  You can trust me.  I don’t know why I trust you. I probably shouldn’t, after everything that’s happened. But I do. I feel like I could tell you anything. I feel like I could tell you my deepest, darkest secret… and I’ve never told that to anyone.”

Backing away only slightly, the beast raised his arm. Suddenly the walls of this strange circular room came alive like the night sky.

Gasping, Gabrielle said, “What did you do?  Are those TV screens? No, they’re too flat and too curved. How are you doing that? Is it projecting from somewhere?”

Gabrielle looked up and all around, trying to find the source instead of paying attention to the spectacle. It wasn’t until she heard rampant applause and then a familiar opening chord that she realized what she was watching.

“It’s Juice!” she cried. “It’s the Juice concert I had tickets for.”

As the stars on screen became stage lights, Gabrielle hugged the beast with giddy excitement.  There they were, opening with one of her favourite songs, rousing the crowd into a frenzy.

“I love these guys!  Isn’t the drummer adorable? They’re all pretty cute. I just love this song!”

Never in a million years did Gabrielle imagine she’d be attending a Juice concert remotely, wearing a ball gown, with a beast as her companion. But already it was the best date she’d ever been on.

“This is amazing,” she told him as the group’s music coursed through her.  “Is the concert streaming live somewhere, and you’re broadcasting it somehow?  I don’t know what technology you’re using, but it’s out of this world.”

The beast raised a finger to her lips as if to say, “Shhh!”

“Sorry,” she said in a whisper. “I can’t stop talking. I know. It’s bad.”

He glanced at the screen as if to say, “This music is playing just for you and you’re not even listening.”

“You’re right,” she said as the first number bled into a second.

“We’re slowing things down,” the front man said. “This is a good song for dancing.”

Gabrielle looked into the beast’s dark eyes. Did he want to dance?  Seemed so. He’d already started rocking her side to side.

There wasn’t much room to move in this small antechamber, but there was certainly enough space to sway.  As Juice serenaded them remotely, they clung to each other and moved to the music.  The heavy silk of her dress compressed her chest, making her feel like her breasts were expanding with every breath.  Where the beast’s big hands caressed her back, she felt a kind of warmth she’d never experienced. It swirled inside her, and not just between her legs as it had when she’d been drugged.  She felt it in her heart this time, like a ribbon of silk cocooning her in love.

As Juice played on, she melted into the beast’s big body, feeling one with the wordless creature.  “I really like being with you,” she said in a whisper. “It doesn’t make sense, but right now I feel safe.”

Juice picked up a rowdy tune and rocked it hard. Didn’t matter what the music was doing. Gabrielle remained in the peaceful world of her beast’s arms, and loved it there. They swayed through song after song, setting their own pace. Fast songs, slow songs, songs of love and heartache and drunken stupidity—they danced to every song the same way: clinging to one another like there was nothing more to life.

“This is crazy.”  Shoving her face against his chest, she breathed in the musty fragrance of his suit along with the manly scent of his skin. “I think I’m falling in love with you. How is that possible?”

Did he hear her? She’d spoken those tender words softly, into his chest, while Juice ravaged one of their loudest tunes. He couldn’t have heard. She hoped he didn’t. And she hoped he did.

The stars seemed to shine only for them as Gabrielle leaned back to look into his eyes. Juice slowed it right down like they knew what was coming. She wanted to say something, but she’d already said it. No more talk. Time for action.

Pulling her close, the beast met her lips with a kiss that expanded as she parted her lips for him. It expanded still when his tongue rolled into the warmth of her mouth. Wrapping one arm around her waist, the beast cupped Gabrielle’s head in his huge hand. Passion burned bright in her heart, bleeding down her body until it found the ache between her thighs. She’d never felt this way before. She’d never felt it with any other guy. This kiss joined her body and her love until she felt whole for the first time in her life.

Her body felt bigger where it pressed against the beast’s mighty chest, and smaller where his hand gripped her head.  She gave herself to him with every whip of the tongue, and when he dipped her like a ballroom dancer she couldn’t help tracing her hand up his neck… and digging her nails beneath his monster mask.

The beast whipped away with a violent growl. That fur was stuck on good, and she felt awful for hurting him.

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to see what you look like under there. Why won’t you show me? Is this part of Madame’s therapy?”

Without a word, the beast took her tightly in his arms. He held her so close she could barely breathe.

“Can you loosen your grip a little?  This kind of hurts a bit.”

She squirmed, but he wouldn’t let go.

“What are you doing?” she asked.  “Look, enough. I don’t want to dance anymore.”

He held her so hard she felt the swell of his rising erection. She didn’t know what to make of that. Her mind and her heart fought with her body, though no one aspect of her inner self could figure out quite what it wanted.

“I don’t understand why you can’t just take off your mask,” she said, with a sudden burst of outrage.  “Mme de Villeneuve isn’t here right now. I looked behind the mirror. There’s nothing there, so why are you acting this way?  After everything you’ve done to me this week, why can’t you just show me your face?”

She reached again for his mask, but he took her wrist in a forceful grip.  As he whisked her hand away, she went at him with the other hand, grasping the fake fur near his jaw. Just as she started to yank the mask, he caught her wrist and brought it to her side so swiftly the mask came slightly unstuck from his skin.  He bellowed as it hung like a flap from his cheekbone.