Page 10 of Marked By Moonlight
“Now what have you gotten up to?”
He stuck up his hands, while Bene cut in with a winning smile.
“Madame Picard, that smells delicious, as always. May I help you with those?”
He scurried to take the platters, trying to placate her through sheer momentum and that Hollywood smile.
Her glare hadYoung man, do you really expect me to fall for that?written all over it. Then she shot me a look that said,I told you no good would come of this bunch,and stalked back to the kitchen.
Bene bravely followed her, then returned alone with two more platters and a sullen, “She’s holding dessert hostage.”
The words were aimed at Roux, who stuck up his hands. “How is this my fault?”
“It’s always your fault,” Bene and Henrik said in unison.
Roux grabbed a plate and slapped meat, potatoes, and vegetables onto it hard enough to make me wince. Then he grumbled and headed for the door.
“I think I’ll eat in my room tonight. Good night.”
My mouth hung open as Henrik and Bene followed suit.
“Seriously?” I huffed.
Breakfasts, lunches, and dinners had been lonely affairs before the men had moved in. Since then, mealtimes might have had their exasperating moments, but they’d always been lively and even downright enjoyable sometimes.
Now, footsteps echoed down the hall, leaving me alone between four silent walls.
Bene paused on the threshold with a guilty look, and I pounced.
“What’s going on?” I demanded.
He looked at his plate, then down the hallway. “Um, nothing?”
I stomped over. “Come on, Bene. What’s going on?”
He studied his roast pork. “I’m not supposed to say.”
I snorted, becausesupposed towas obviously not a guiding principle in this lion shifter’s life.
“Dammit, Bene. I thought we were friends,” I hissed.
I sounded like an angry third grader, but I meant it. Bene was the only one of my guests I could halfway trust. Well, apart from Marius.
“I can’t tell you more. I’m really sorry.” He genuinely looked it, but that didn’t help me.
“Please,” I tried.
He scratched his ear, then whispered, “All I know is—”
“Bene!” Roux barked from down the hall.
Bene winced and stuck his tail between his legs. Well, figuratively speaking, but it was easy to picture him slinking away in lion form.
“Sorry,” he murmured on the way out.
I stood there, shocked and hurt — the new theme of my life, it seemed — long after the sounds of their footsteps and the aroma of their meals faded away. Then I filled my own plate and headedto my room. Halfway up the stairs, I backtracked to the kitchen in a truly vindictive mood.
“Aha. There you are,” I murmured, sliding a tray from the refrigerator. On it were five bowls of crème brûlée.
