Page 63 of Beast

I glare at him. “How could I forget.”

He starts to walk away but calls out over his shoulder. “Be ready by six.”

I narrow my eyes at him and watch him disappear out of view.

CHAPTER 23

BELLE

He’s late.

He was supposed to pick me up at six, but it’s already six thirty, and I’m all dressed up with no place to go and no one to take me.

I look at my outfit in the mirror. I’m wearing a low-cut top that shows off a little more boob than I’m used to, and a pair of knee-high black boots over tight blue jeans. All on loan from Mya.

Before heading into town to help set up the fundraiser, she helped me with my hair and makeup, despite my assurance that I could do that myself. But she insisted because I think she’s still traumatized by my lack of effort yesterday and the state of my hair when I attended the party.

But she has nothing to worry about. I learned my lesson. I’m not going to blow this. I’m going to be a good little ol’ lady and do as I’m told.For Uncle Maurice.

I figure if I remember why I’m doing this, I will be less likely to fuck it up by wanting Beast to kiss me. Worst of all, touch me.

But the truth is, Idowant him to touch me. I have wanted his hands on me since the moment he stepped out of the shadows and into the lamplight the night we met. That was the moment I felt the longing awaken inside me. And it confuses me. Not to mention pisses me off. Because I have no business wanting this man. But I do, and it’s like something deep inside me has already decided my fate and he’s it.

It's why I fight him so much. I’m trying to prove a point to the both of us. That I am no pushover. And that this longing to feel him touch me is complete insanity.

But it’s getting me nowhere. And after today’s encounter in the garden, I’ve decided to change tactics and behave. Because when Beast turns the tables on me, I get drawn deeper into his web.

The door opens, and Beast appears in the doorway and immediately my stomach knots at the sight of him.

He’s wearing his usual black jeans and a tee under his cut. But something is different about him tonight. Oh he’s still got that air of power and control about him. But I can see the worry etched into his brow—the worry he thinks he’s hiding behind his scowl.

“You’re late,” I say, looking at him in the reflection of the mirror.

He walks up behind me, and I’m immediately caught in his heat and scent.

Memories of rubbing myself against his erection this morning swirl in my head, and my nipples harden to peaks.

I raise an eyebrow at him in the mirror, and he pulls out a small black box.

I turn around to face him and look at the box. “What is that?”

He opens it, and winking back at me is a giant diamond. “Your engagement ring.”

I’m speechless. It’s stunning.

Beast takes it out of the box and slides it onto my finger.

And just like that, I am engaged.

It’s my third night at the clubhouse, and somehow I am now the future Mrs. Beast.

I look at the big fat diamond ring on my finger.

This is really happening.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

As a young girl, I always imagined this moment would be incredibly romantic and worthy of an ugly cry. That I would find my Prince Charming and be swept away in a wave of romance.

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