Chapter 40

I can’t stop staring at her during dinner.

The creamy swells of her tits are taunting me in this deep V-neck dress she has on. My cock twitches as I stare at her placing a small morsel of food in her mouth as we dine in a private room inside Carlisle’s, one of the restaurants we have within The Orchid.

She moans and the juice from her steak drips out. Then she dips her tongue to wipe it off.

That talented tongue of hers. My cock hardens when I think about the blow job she gave me this morning in the shower, the way that pink tongue of hers swirled around my sensitive tip while she sucked me like I was her favorite popsicle, her tawny eyes dilated, gaze drunk with lust.

I groan and clutch my steak knife and fork in a death grip. What the fuck is wrong with me? Before her, I could go months without sex and even when I had it, it was never this desperate craving I’ve had with her.

“What’s wrong?” Her brows quirk up in concern. “You haven’t really touched your food. Aren’t you hungry?”

My little muse is oblivious.

“You,” I rasp.

“Huh?” She looks adorably confused.

“Fuck yes, I’m hungry. Seeing you in that dress, your tits lifting and falling, taunting me, your lips and moans and everything about you,” I swallow, my nostrils flaring as her eyes grow as big as the dinner plates before her, “I’m ravenous . ”

“Maxwell!” A pink flush creeps up her neck and tinges her ivory skin. She gnaws on her sexy lips. I have her flustered. “Are you taking me on a date just so you can ogle me?”

“I wanted to take you out tonight because I realized I hadn’t spent time alone with you outside the estate since the race and Nellie’s.”

Reaching over the table, I link my hand with hers, relishing the electric zap and her gasp the moment we touch.

This powerful connection—it’s something I can’t explain. We’re two halves of a whole, the atoms in our bodies recognizing each other. As I look at her, watching her smile sweetly at me, the whites of her teeth blinding, I’m hit with an impulse, the same impulse that got me to elope with Sydney all those years ago, but this time, the need is ten times more potent, more desperate.

I want to love her. I want to give the middle finger to my old friend, death again.

But what if? You know your love is a death sentence. You know that.

The thought is a bucket of ice water dousing the fire burning inside me and I think back to how Elias’s investigation on her fall at BSUA didn’t yield anything, how Belle had been complaining about getting dizzy even though the doctors found nothing unusual when they examined her, and uneasiness crawls up my throat.

But even then, there’s a kernel of rebellion inside me. What if Belle’s right and all the accidents were random? What if there isn’t a curse?

She must’ve seen something in my face, because she asks, “You’re worried about something, aren’t you? You thought of it just now.”

Giving her fingers one last squeeze, I let go and focus on the medium rare ribeye in front of me, hoping the food will settle my suddenly frayed nerves.

“I never told you this, but I asked Elias to look into your fall at the shelter.” I tug my tie loose from my neck—it was getting hard to breathe.

“What? Why? It was an accident. Do you owe him any favors? Why didn’t you tell me before?” Belle clearly knows who Elias is, but who doesn’t? Everyone in the city has heard of him and he has helped her friends before.

“We have a silent agreement and you don’t need to worry about it.”

She shakes her head. “Maxwell, we’re married. You need to tell me these things so we can make these decisions together. This impacts me too. For the thousandth time, it was an accident.”

She shifts in her seat, a frown on her face. “I can’t believe you went behind my back and now you owe him a favor. Who knows what he’s going to ask you to do later on?”

Anything. He can ask me to do anything and it’ll be worth it to make sure she’s safe.

“You think it’s the curse, don’t you?” She looks so crestfallen. I have a feeling she has been hoping the last few weeks between us have changed things. “I slipped and knocked my head. Saw and heard some weird things because I almost had a concussion. It was my fault.”

“But what about your dizzy spells? And didn’t you say you saw a man in a mask outside the window when you first moved in?”

My heart races as I think back to all the little things she complained about in the past—the masked man encounter that I brushed off after a cursory inspection of surveillance tapes, her asking if there were ghosts in the house because she kept hearing moaning and wailing and doors slamming. I grew up in the mansion, so those sounds were normal to me.

All these things seemed innocent when Agnes or Morris told me about them, but now, I’m not so sure.

Then there’s the branch shattering the windows, a branch that came from nowhere since the trees are so far away from the fourth floor. The same omen before the other deaths. Signs I’m choosing to ignore because I want Belle to be right. I want everything to be some twisted self-fulfilling prophecy and perhaps if I don’t think about it, the curse won’t happen.

Cold sweat forms on the back of my neck and my stomach turns. A series of unusual events. If it wasn’t the curse, what could it be ?

An anvil sits atop my chest as my lungs fight for oxygen. Why is it so hot in here? Staring at the food in front of me, I watch it swirl, the scent of the semi-raw meat suddenly nauseating.

I’m calm. I’m at peace. I accept myself. I’m calm—

Her sweet scent of lilies hits my nostrils, followed by a soft, warm body wrapping me in a tight embrace.

“It’s okay, Maxwell. We’ll work on this. In time, you’ll see the curse isn’t real. It’s okay. I’m here.” Her soft words and gentle touches calm the turbulent swirl in my mind and I close my eyes, breathing in her fragrance, one that’ll forever remind me of home, and listen to the calm beating of her heart.

Her thriving, healthy, living heart. One I’ll protect if it’s the last thing I do.

She makes room for herself and sits on my lap and uses a napkin to blot the sweat off my forehead and upper lip. “Everything will be okay, Maxwell, you’ll see.”

She smiles, then frowns, as if she remembers something.

“What?” I ask, straightening up.

“In the interest of telling each other problems, I want to talk to you about Agnes.”

She tells me about the housekeeper’s cold behavior toward her, culminating in her warning for Belle to keep her distance from me.

My lips twitch and I feel my face heat. How dare she disrespect Belle? While Agnes has been part of my entire life, if I had to choose between her and my wife, I’d choose my wife always.

Belle says, “My immediate reaction was to fire her, but now that I’ve calmed down, I think maybe we can talk to her. Put her on some performance improvement plan? After all, she has worked for your family for so long.”

I sigh, cupping Belle’s cheek. My wife is so kind. I don’t deserve her.

“That sounds good,” I murmur. “But if she mistreats you again, she’s out. No more chances. ”

Belle leans up and presses her lips to mine. The kiss is gentle at first, but it soon changes flavor as she settles over my hardening erection, her wide neckline slipping to the side, yielding one creamy shoulder.

The unease inside me latches onto lust and I want to feel her against me, skin to skin, heart over heart. Growling, I fist a handful of her silky locks, winding it around my hand before tugging, her breathy gasp a direct caress to my cock.

I trail kisses over her face—her eyes, her nose, her cheeks—down to her slender neck, sucking her throbbing pulse as she mewls and thrashes in my tight hold.

“Fuck, I’ll never get enough of you.” My hand slides down her shoulder and cups her breast over the soft material, finding her nipple already hard. I twist the nub, plucking it, playing with it as fire courses through my veins.

“Maxwell, oh my God,” she rides my shaft over my pants, “I’m so wet.”

Fuck me.

I might be unable to give her the love she wants, but I can give her this.

Grunting, I haul her off me, my breathing harsh as I take in her mussed hair, swollen lips, dazed eyes.

Standing up, I grab her hand and drag her out of the private room into the main dining area, ignoring the pointed stares and hushed whispers directed toward us. Nodding at the manager who served us, I know he’ll send the bill to my account.

“W-Where are we going?” Belle still sounds dazed, and before tonight ends, I’m going to have her even dizzier with desire.

“I’m going to take you on another adventure.”