Beauty's Beast: a Dark Romance (Beauty and the Rose Book 1) by Stasia Black & Lee Savino

Author:Stasia Black & Lee Savino [Black, Stasia]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2020-02-09T16:00:00+00:00

Morning finds me curled in a Beast-sized armchair by the fire. Outside a winter storm beats freezing rain against the window, but my body’s stronger than it’s been in days.

I can’t believe the Beast tended me all this time. He’s been inordinately gentle. He even let me touch him last night. I held his hand, though I can barely remember our conversation.

The bedroom door creaks and the Beast appears. He sees me and stops in his tracks. “You’re awake.”

“I got up and dressed all by myself,” I brag.

“Well done.” There’s that glimmer of a smile. I’m addicted to it.

“I brought breakfast.” There’s a cart with a tray just outside the door. I wrinkle my nose at the shiny silver dome covering the plate. It’s probably more broth.

But no, when he whips off the cover with a flourish, a steaming omelet with a side rasher of—

“Bacon!” I reach with both hands, already drooling.

“Ah ah,” he holds the plate aloft. “Not until you eat your porridge.” He hands me a bowl and spoon. Topped with fresh berries and cream, it’s hardly gruel, but it’s not bacon.

“You’re heartless,” I tell him, but dutifully dig in.

“So I’ve been told.” Another glimmer of a smile.

“Careful,” I mutter to the bowl. “I’ll one star you on Yelp.”

“Too late. I’ve already been voted best Evil Captor three years running.” As my mouth drops open—he made a joke!—he adds, “Having a castle helped.”

“I bet. How did you get a castle just outside New Olympus anyway? Did you build it?”

“Inherited it. My predecessor brought it over from the old country, stone by stone.”

My mouth is hanging open now. The Beast isn’t just making jokes, he’s sharing information? Before I get too excited, he raises his chin and orders, “Eat, Daphne.”

I lift my spoon and plunge it dramatically in the bowl. He watches me take a few bites before kneeling to build up the fire. I can’t help but admire the taut line of his backside, set off perfectly by exquisitely tailored pants.

“Remind me to thank your stylist,” I murmur.

“What?” he rises, dusting off his hands. Today he’s in a chunky off-white knit sweater. His black hair is tousled. Mmmmm.

“Nothing.” Daphne! Stop perving on your captor! My spoon clinks in the bowl as I shovel away at the oatmeal.

“Careful. Don’t make yourself sick.”

“I want bacon,” I say with my mouthful.

He makes a frustrated noise and kneels beside me, commandeering my spoon. “Slowly,” he says, feeding me a smaller bite.

“Fine.” I let him feed me as he’s done before, exaggerating my movements. “Mmm,” I hum and lick cream from my lips. His gaze hones onto my mouth. I nibble on a strawberry and he looks away, jaw clenching. Is that a flush on his swarthy skin?

I sit back, satisfied. I’m not the only one affected.

“Are you finished?” he asks.

To my disappointment, I am. “I’m full,” I sigh.

He sets the bowl down and picks up the plate. “Because I’m hungry.”

“That was my bacon!” I cry.

“Mine now,” he grins outright now, his teeth white and even under his mask.

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