Beloved Beast

Chapter Sixteen

Before Elle could utter the cry wedged in her throat, the sound of her father's trudging feet could be heard waning in the dark, signaling his hasty departure.

And without reason, just like that, he was gone.

Having him near, yet unreachable, unleashed a variable wave of emotion, and her throat drew tight around the knot of feelings there, preventing words from finding exclamation.

With a ragged breath, she started back towards Rossetti's chambers, her steps uneven as her focus turned inward, honing on the ripening ache closing around her heart and the tears welling behind her burning eyes.

It was a few steps more when a large hand snaked around her upper arm, strong fingers thwarting her flight and turning her roughly about. The abrupt momentum brought her palms hard against a warm, broad chest; that sudden foray of striking maleness jarring her righteous indignation. "What do you think you are doing?" Rossetti's coarse voice demanded above her.

For a moment, his presence disabled her, divesting her of sound and mind, dispatching any lingering ire on a deep inhale of rich, masculine spices as her hands flattened over the taut muscles there, rippling beneath the fluctuating softness of his tunic.

"Answer me," Rossetti demanded, and though his grip was firm, it brooked no chance of breaking.

Remembering her anger, "Why did you send my father away? What did you say to him?"
             Despite her blindness, Elle felt his hard, unflinching scrutiny flit over her face as he replied in a hard voice, "We can resume this conversation in my chambers."

Forced to curb her grievance, she fell quiet as he led the way back.

"You were not to leave this room." Rossetti barked, as the door slammed shut behind them.

That deafening shudder of wood jarred her senses, but she quickly regained her displeasure, saying, "You gave no such order, my lord."

A guttural growl forewarned her of his soaring temper and she braced for his reproach as the scuffing of his boots drew him abreast to her. "Don't be a fool, nymph. Just what were you thinking roaming about as you were? Be grateful that no harm has come to you." Moving closer still, his presence nestled around her as the warmth of his breath fanned her nape, sending chills to waltz in a bewildering fashion across her skin.

Elle suppressed a shiver. Never had she thought her blindness a disadvantage, it was just her way of life, that is, until him. She tried schooling her expressions as best as she could but that proved futile as a heap of emotions warred there. Sadness. Anger. Confusion. These varying sentiments raged a diverse torrent in her heart, each wrestling to gain superiority over the other, and it made her feel painfully transparent.

Crossing her arms against her chest, feigning a calm she did not feel, "Given your penchant for being unkind and indifferent, I would think my well-being of little concern to you." Taking in a fortifying breath, she added, "Pray tell, what harm was there to have given me a moment with my father?"

"Your father does not honor our accord. I made no mention of social calls."

Would he not see reason? Frustration was a burning knot at the back of her throat as she fought to temper her mounting anger.

Elle wanted to believe that there was goodness in him, but it was difficult to maintain that regard when he insisted on acting the beast. Just how far would he go to prove how monstrous he could be?

"You truly cannot fault my father's behavior given the circumstances."

          Touch her. Nothing would give me greater pleasure. Even in the fog of her emotions, those steely words had left a profound and burning impression; rebutting any doubts that he had no real effect on her. Nonetheless, they had been said to inflict harm.