“Did I hurt your ribs?” She splayed a hand on his chest.
He looked down at her hand, then back up to her eyes. “No.”
“Good. Because I was afraid…” Her voice trailed off as she gazed into the deep green pools of his eyes. Her heart rate picked up. His hair was slightly tousled, his eyes soft. His high cheekbones and strong jaw line gave his face a sculpted look. Refined. He was handsome, even with the scars. Without the scars, he’d be Hollywood material.
Time seemed to slow as she gazed at him. He inched closer, as if he couldn’t help himself. As if gravity itself was pulling them together. Was he going to kiss her? She imagined what that would be like, and tingles erupted on her skin. She closed her eyes, instinctively waiting for his lips to touch hers.
The doorbell rang and Thaddeus jumped out of the chair. He ran his hand over his stubble. “I’ll go…get that.”
She nodded, unable to speak.
A moment later, she heard Evelyn’s voice carry. “You’re looking good today.”
Aribelle shook her head. She needed to get a grip. Of course he wasn’t going to kiss her. Man. What was wrong with her? She stood, smoothed out her borrowed shirt, and walked into the living room to help Evelyn carry in the groceries. When she entered, she saw she was too late. Thaddeus already had all the sacks on his arms and was headed for the kitchen.
“Good to see you, Evelyn,” Aribelle said, following them into the kitchen.
Evelyn stared at Aribelle. “Good to see you too,” she said, eyeballing Thaddeus’s shirt she wore.
Heat enveloped Aribelle’s face. It wasn’t like that, but she wasn’t about to protest this to Evelyn. The best she could do was ignore it and hope Evelyn wouldn’t ask why she was wearing his shirt.
She expected Thaddeus to leave the room after he set down the grocery bags, but instead, he folded his arms across his chest and leaned up against the counter. “How was your week?” he asked Evelyn.
She fished the bread out of one sack and smiled at him. “It’s been kind of crazy. My daughter is ill and I’ve had her son at my place. He’s a bit rambunctious, that one. Always climbing on things and getting himself into trouble. He’s only two but he thinks he’s seventeen, and he wants to do everything the grownups are doing.”
Thaddeus nodded his head.
Aribelle began emptying the other sack. “Don’t worry, we’ve got this. You can go do whatever else you need to do.” She made a motion with her hand to shoo him into the other room. She didn’t mind him overhearing her ask about the old woman, but if he was standing right there he’d interrupt and not let her get the words out.
“I’m fine. I don’t mind helping.” He put the milk in the fridge and gave her a smug little smile which made her blood pressure rise. He knew she wanted to talk to Evelyn. What a brat.
Everything was put away quickly with the three of them helping, and Evelyn picked up the empty sacks. “I hope you have a lovely afternoon.”
As she walked toward the front door, Aribelle tried to think of what to do. She needed to get Evelyn alone but didn’t want to be too obvious. She hung back and let Evelyn walk outside. Thaddeus shut the door, walked into the living room, and sat on the couch.
If she didn’t act now, it would be too late. “Oh, I forgot to ask Evelyn something. There’s a new recipe I want to try, so I’d better go see if she can bring the ingredients next week.”
Without waiting to see Thaddeus’s reaction, she bolted out the door and ran to Evelyn’s car. The motor was running, but she hadn’t pulled out yet. Aribelle approached the driver’s side window and Evelyn rolled it down, giving her a quizzical look.
“Sorry to bother you.” Now that she was there, talking to her, Aribelle suddenly didn’t know how to approach the subject. What does one say when asking about an old witch who cast a curse on your employer? Er, not even her employer anymore. Her…what was he? And why was she rambling in her head?
Evelyn smiled at her. “No problem. What do you need?”
Aribelle decided to blurt it out. “Do you know if the old woman who cursed Thaddeus still lives around here?”
Evelyn’s eyes grew wide and she glanced at the house. “He told you about that?”
“Yes. He told me everything.”
Indecision played across Evelyn’s face as she fiddled with her fake pearl necklace. “I don’t think I should talk about it.”
Crud. Evelyn was going to drive off, leaving her to deal with Thaddeus, who would be furious. And all the effort wasn’t going to get her anywhere. She had to come up with something fast. “It’s okay. We’ve talked a lot about it. How else would I know about it? We don’t know if the woman lives in the area still. Her name escapes me…”
“Catherine.”
“Right. Catherine. She used to live…” Aribelle looked northward, hoping she was somewhat close.
“The old house on Ash street, in Carson. She’s still there.” Evelyn looked extremely uncomfortable, glancing again in Thaddeus’s direction.
“Ah, thanks. We were discussing it and…well…taking bets and stuff. No biggie. This settles the argument.” She flipped her hand in the air like it was no big deal. “Thanks for clearing that up.”
“Have a good week,” Evelyn said, putting the car in reverse and backing out. She gunned it as she left and Aribelle let out a breath. She’d gotten what she wanted.
Now she had to go face Thaddeus.
Chapter 16
Aribelle wiped her sweaty hands on her pants and stepped up to the door. He’d yell at her, that’s all. She could handle him. She pushed the door open and walked in. Thaddeus sat where she’d left him, on the couch. He wasn’t scowling, which was a good sign.
“Hey.” She gave him a tentative smile.
He kept his face passive. “Ingredients for a new recipe? That’s the best you could come up with?”
He wasn’t yelling. That was good. “Yeah, it was lame.” She plopped down on the recliner. She didn’t want to be too close in case he decided to get angry.
He closed his eyes and rubbed his forehead. “I told you to leave it alone.”
She opened her mouth and the dam broke. “I’m sorry, but I just can’t sit back and not do anything, because we don’t know if there’s anything she can do, and we don’t even know if she’s still around, so it’s better to just find out, right? I mean, it doesn’t hurt to ask, and then we know, and even if she doesn’t do anything, at least we—”
“Belle!”
His voice rang out and she closed her mouth.
He looked to the ceiling like he was trying to control his temper. “I am what I am. Stop trying to change me.”
The pain behind the words stabbed at her chest, and her eyes widened. She didn’t mean to imply that he wasn’t good enough, or that she was trying to change him to be what she wanted. He was caring and gentle. He chose to heal others and take upon himself their pain. He was amazing. She didn’t have the words to say to him, so she stood and walked over to him. She sat beside him and put her hand on his cheek. All that would come out of her mouth was, “I’m sorry.”
He pulled her hand down and held it between his own. “Don’t be sorry. You’re just being the sweet person you are.”
He let go, stood, and crossed the room before she could react too much to their close proximity. He let out a frustrated breath and looked out the window. “If you’re not going to let this go, I’ll take you to see her.”
What? Would he do that for her? She rushed to him. “Really?” Before he could answer, she threw her arms around him and hugged him.
“Only because you’re going to bug me about it until I want to punch a wall,” he grumbled.
She laughed and pulled back. “You’re right.”
“We’ll go tomorrow.” A darkness came into his eyes. “But don’t argue with her. If she says she can’t hel
p, accept it.”
Aribelle nodded. “Of course.”
“I mean it.” He grabbed her upper arms. “She’s not someone you want to mess with.”
A small twinge of fear snaked up her back. Thaddeus was right. If Catherine could curse him, she could do worse to her. “Okay.”
He let go of her and stalked out of the room, tension evident in his muscles. Aribelle let him go. She knew he needed some time. He was the one who had dealt with Catherine all those years ago. Seeing her again wasn’t going to be easy for him.
Thaddeus paced his bedroom. Why had he agreed to take Aribelle to see that old harpy? Nothing would change his circumstances. Catherine wouldn’t lift the curse, he knew that, but she might get angry and do even more damage. At least right now his life was somewhat livable. What if she took away his power to heal himself? To heal others? What if he was left with his animalistic nature and nothing to prevent him from ripping apart another human being? What if he hurt Aribelle?
He couldn’t say no to her, that was the problem. At least, not for long, apparently. He had no willpower when it came to her. And now he had agreed to go see the old witch. Great. And he thought his life was difficult now.
If Catherine grew angry, who knew what she could put them through. He hadn’t understood when he was young and stupid. He’d thought the world would bow down at his feet. He’d thought his money meant power, and that people were there to do his bidding. He’d always gotten what he’d wanted until Catherine defied him, and the prospect of seeing her again scared him to death.
He opened his desk and pulled out a worn journal. Opening to a new page, he sat down and grabbed a pen.
Aribelle continues to push the limits. She has now persuaded me to take her to see Catherine. I am afraid the end result of confronting the old witch will be devastating. But I cannot deny Aribelle. She has such a hold on me, I cannot break free. I fear she will be my undoing.
He heard Aribelle bustling around in her bedroom and decided to go see her. Maybe he could talk her out of going to visit Catherine somehow. He walked down the hall and gently knocked on her door.
Aribelle opened the door a crack, a guilty look on her face. “Yes?”
“Can I come in?”
She hesitated. “Now?”
“Yes. I want to talk to you.”
A blush crept over her cheeks and she opened the door.
“What on earth have you got on?” Thaddeus held in a smile as his gaze traveled over Aribelle, dressed in a ballroom gown, her hair pinned up on top of her head.
“I’m sorry, I only wanted to see if one of these would fit. And this one did. And then I thought it would be cool to see what my hair would look like…” She blushed even more and took a step back. “You must think I’m silly.”
Silly wasn’t the word that was coming to his mind at the moment. “No.”
“Well, I’ll change out of this get-up so we can have dinner.”
He didn’t want her to change out of the dress. He wanted to pull her into his arms and kiss her exposed neck. But he couldn’t think such things. He tried to look away but was unsuccessful. Then a thought occurred to him. “Maybe we can have a formal dinner tonight.”
“What?”
He shrugged like it wasn’t important to him. “I could put on something nice. We could eat dinner together on the deck.”
“It’s not too cold?”
“It should be fine.”
A smile formed on her lips. “Okay. I’ll be down in a few minutes then.”
He nodded and left her room. After shaving, he put on a suit and tie and went downstairs. He rummaged through the cupboards and found a candle. He lit it, put it on the table on the deck, and rearranged the chairs. Why was his heart beating so fast? It wasn’t like this was a date or anything. They were just goofing around. But it didn’t feel silly. He brought out two plates and the crock pot with the roast and potatoes.
Aribelle stepped out onto the deck. His heart stuttered and he held in a gasp. How could it be possible for her to be even more beautiful?
She looked up at the moon. “You’re right. It’s not too cold.”
“It was unseasonably warm today.”
She froze, staring at him. “You shaved.”
She looked startled, and he suddenly realized why. The scars on his face were much more prominent without the stubble hiding them. He’d been trimming his beard but hadn’t shaved it since meeting her. She was probably staring at his ugly scars, truly seeing him for the first time. He ducked his chin. “Yes. Let’s eat before it gets cold.”
She maneuvered around the table, and he pulled out a chair for her. “Thank you,” she said as she lowered herself into it.
Moonlight filtered through the trees, and he’d turned on the string of lights suspended above the railing. The lighting made her skin look milky white. He tore his eyes away from her and served the roast. He wanted to tell her that she looked lovely, but didn’t think that was a good idea. Instead, he stayed silent.
Aribelle picked up her fork. “Can I ask a dumb question?”
“Go ahead.”
“What’s a bachelor doing with an armoire full of fantastic dresses?”
“They were my mother’s.”
Her gaze dropped to her plate. “Oh. I probably shouldn’t have—”
“It’s okay,” he interrupted. “They aren’t doing any good sitting in a wardrobe. I’d like to think my mother would be happy one is getting some use tonight.”
She smiled. “Tell me about her.”
“My mother? Well, my father didn’t talk about her often, but I know she was quite social and the dresses were for the grand parties she’d have. My father tolerated them.” He chuckled. “My mother was involved with several charities. Her favorite was the Make a Wish Foundation. She would help organize fundraisers.”
“Sounds like she was a wonderful person.”
“I’d like to think she was.” He paused for a moment, not sure how much he should share with her.
“Do you have any pictures of her?”
“After she died, my father put away everything that reminded him of her. When I was six or seven, I found a drawer with a few of her things, including a photo of her. I was amazed. I’d never seen a picture of her before. When my father caught me with her things, he snatched them away. I cried for hours. It was Evelyn who came to console me. When she found out what had happened, she promised to get me a photo of my mother. Later that week, she gave me my parents’ wedding picture. I still have it.”
Aribelle blinked away the moisture in her eyes. “It must have been difficult for your father, losing his wife to childbirth.”
Yes. That was why his father couldn’t stand to be around him. Had buried himself in his work and left Thaddeus to raise himself. “I’m sure it was.”
They ate in silence for a while before Aribelle wiped her mouth with her napkin and said, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin the mood.”
“It’s fine. I don’t mind talking about it.” And he was surprised to find that was the truth. Aribelle was easy to talk to.
“I know how it feels to grow up without a mother.”
“Have you ever wondered where she is now?” This was something that had been weighing on his mind. If his mother was still alive, somewhere out there, he probably would have searched her out by now, even if only on the internet.
“I wonder it all the time,” she said softly, her eyelids lowered so her lashes looked like they splayed across her cheeks. “I don’t have the courage to search for her. I couldn’t take it if she were nearby…ignoring her own daughter.”
“Do you know why she left?”
“I pestered my father until he sat me down and told me she couldn’t handle being a wife and mother. To me, this implies mental illness, so I’ve always consoled myself with this. I like
to think she wouldn’t have left if she felt she had a choice.”
He reached across the table and took her hand. “Of course she wouldn’t have.”
Aribelle gave him a small smile and squeezed his hand. “We should clean up.” She stood and picked up a plate.
He took it from her. “We can do the dishes later.”
Aribelle smiled and grabbed his hands. “Will you humor me for a moment?”
“Okay,” he said tentatively, not sure what she wanted.
She tugged him through the house to the ballroom and turned on the lights. He wondered why she looked like a kid on Christmas. She turned a full circle, her dress flowing out. “It’s so beautiful in here. I can imagine the music and the dancing. The dresses…” She closed her eyes and held her hands to her chin. “I can see why your mother loved to hold parties here.”
Thaddeus pulled her into his arms, surprising even himself. “Will you dance with me?”
Chapter 17
It was a completely selfish thing to do. Thaddeus simply wanted to touch Aribelle. To hold her. And in the ballroom, with them dressed up, it was perfectly logical to suggest they share a dance. But guilt flooded through him the second the proposal came from his lips.
Aribelle looked up at him, surprise written on her face. She quickly recovered. “We have no music.”
“I’ll get my iPod.”
A shy smile flashed across her face. “Okay.”
“I’ll be right back.” He left the room, and part of him fully expected her to change her mind once he was gone, but when he came back in, she was standing in the same place under the chandelier, a look on her face he couldn’t quite decipher.
He plugged in the speakers and turned on the first slow song he came to, which happened to be Careless Whisper by George Michael. Then he took her hand and put his other on her upper back beneath her shoulder blade.
“You know how to dance,” she said, once again surprise showing on her features.
“My father insisted I take lessons. I never appreciated them much, though.” He started moving to the music, and for the first time in his life, was grateful for the dance lessons.
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