Page 47 of Her Beast

His silky sable eyebrow lifted, the small movement speaking volumes.

Julia refused to apologize for staring. Instead, she lowered herself into the chair.

Once she was seated, he said, “Allow me to serve you.”

It wasn’t a question, so she didn’t speak. Instead, she stared at his broad back when he turned to fill a plate at the buffet.

Sebastian’s clothing was expensive and exquisitely cut, but never had she seen garments so perfectly tailored to a man’s figure.

His shirt was high-collared and snowy white, but everything else—his waistcoat, coat, and trousers—were black. He moved easily, but she noticed he favored one side of his body—his left. So, he must be damaged on more than just his face.

“I thought you might like to try some of all the dishes,” he said as he turned back to her, setting down a plate that held more food than she’d been given in years.

The aroma of the rich food assaulted her nose, leaving her woozy.

“Coffee, or tea?” he asked.

“Tea, please.”

He nodded to James. “Tea and fresh coffee.”

“Right away, sir.”

Julia’s hands trembled as she picked up her utensils. She told herself it was hunger, but that was a lie. As politely as Mr. Barton was behaving, the man had kidnapped her. Besides, he emanated… something. Something unnerving.

She gripped her fork and knife hard to stop from shaking and cut a miniscule piece from the thick, juicy slab of ham.

Last night—had it only been last night?—at Sebastian’s grandmother’s house there had been no Netta or Nadine to starve her, but Julia had been too anxious to eat, more than a little concerned she might vomit all over her hostess and betrothed if she did so.

She raised her fork to her mouth and then paused when she saw Mr. Barton was still and watchful, his icy gaze on her.

Julia lowered the fork back to her plate, food untouched. “Aren’t you eating?”

“I already ate.”

“Oh.”

He gave an encouraging nod. “Please, eat while I talk.”

When she placed the tiny sliver of ham in her mouth smokey, savory goodness exploded on her tongue.

It was so delicious Julia almost swooned.

He tracked her chewing the way a falcon stalked its prey, which made it extremely difficult to swallow the morsel of food, no matter how small.

Julia cleared her throat and set down her cutlery and his gaze moved from her mouth to her eyes.

“You were going to talk,” she reminded him, her voice impressively firm considering how chaotic she was feeling inside.

“I swear I won’t hurt you. I am only keeping you here to encourage your father to cooperate with me.” He spoke in an inflectionless tone.

“You know my f-father?”

“Yes.”

“Cooperate how?” She picked up her knife and fork, needing to do something with her hands.

“You don’t need to know the specifics.”

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