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Beauty--Remastered Ch. 01

By: almostluver



Dear readers...yay! You're reading my first ever intentional erotic story. I finally feel like I've come of age, so now I can let all the dirty little secrets out. Please judge me as harshly as you can, cuz I can take it =)

Also, this story is mostly straight romance, but this first chapter has a gay sex scene, so if you don't like it, skip the last part. The other sex happens much later on in the story, so if you want to get off immediately, sorry, this isnt' for you. Everyone else, let me know if I should continue!! =) 

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The late afternoon sun shone down on two dark, tousled heads belonging to a boy and a girl. They were both in their late teens, and both small in stature. Anyone who didn't know them would expect them to be siblings, if not twins, but that wasn't the case. His name was Joseph, and she was Scarlet.

Joseph's blue eyes were furious, but he held Scarlet gently as she finished talking. "It couldn't be as bad as all that."

"Yes, it could be!" Scarlet shot back. "It's an arranged marriage, Joseph! For one thing, I don't even know the man I'll be shackled to in less than a week! And for another...how the hell could my mother resort to something so barbaric? This is the fucking twenty-first century!"

Joey softened his voice. Scarlet only cursed when she was really, really upset. "Well...at least he'll end up being rich. Your mother wants you to be taken care of, especially now that she's sick, and your father is gone."

Scarlet pinched his thigh. "Don't pull that with me. We're perfectly well-off for ourselves finally. Besides, am I really that shallow?"

"Well...who is it?" He questioned, rubbing the sting out of his leg. She hadn't even told him who yet—she'd been too busy going on about the marriage itself. She groaned. "It can't be someone too bad."

"Anybody would be bad."

"Who is it, Scary?" he used his childhood nickname for her in a feeble attempt to cheer her up.

"Don—Donovan Alford." She felt Joey's breath hitch, even though he didn't say anything, and tears sprang into her dark eyes. Wiping them away furiously, she stubbornly tamped down any sobs that threatened to escape.

"Well," He tried to think of something cheerful. Donovan was probably one of the worst choices, even though not a lot was known about him. He was a recluse; nobody had seen him in years since...well there had been talk of some sort of accident, but his father was richer than God himself, practically, and most likely got those shut down before any real damage had been done. "He's not...horrible. He's young, only a few years older than us. And...well I've heard he's quite a hottie." 

Scarlet looked at him over her shoulder, her huge liquid brown eyes sorrowful. His attempts at levity weren't working at all, but he knew she appreciated them. If he wasn't attached, or, you know, gay, he'd be madly in love with her for her looks alone—the lovable personality was an added bonus. That was the only thing that allowed her to be with him alone. Her mother had strictly old-fashioned ways—more so than her daughter—and made sure Scarlet was chaperoned with any males. At first, when they'd hit puberty, she'd tried to keep them away from each other, but once it was known that he wouldn't ever try anything with her daughter (and after a very upset Scarlet ran away,) she let go.

"He's rich too," Joseph continued trying to make Scarlet see something good about the situation. "And you'll be well-known..."

"I don't care about that. I want to be happy."

"Think of all the freedom you'll have. Your mother won't be breathing down your neck 24/7."

"I'll be trapped, still."

"I'll visit you every day."

"What if he doesn't let you?"

He hadn't even considered that. What if he ended up being a selfish prick who wouldn't let his wife even talk to her male best friend? "Wild horses couldn't stop me."

Scarlet laughed sadly and kissed him square on the mouth. "And I absolutely love you for it."

"I love you just as much." Joseph assured her. "So, what are you going to do?"

"I'll do it. What choice do I have? She's still my mother, and I have to obey her. Besides, I couldn't do anything to hurt her. It's too soon after Father's death to do that. I don't understand why she's so anxious to pass me off so quickly. It's only been a week—we're still grieving, for god's sake!"

"She's doing this for you. Remember that."

"But...I don't understand. She almost lost me, why would she be so quick to pass me off?"

"I don't know." He stood and pulled her up beside him. "I have to get back to Daniel."

Scarlet smiled sadly. "Say hello to him, will you?" At Joey's nod, she mounted her waiting horse. Joey looked up at her with concern when she softly moaned as her still recovering body protested her movements. It still terrified him, that not even a two days ago, she'd been lying so still in a stark white hospital room. She wasn't even supposed to be riding—it'd taken a lot of persuasion to get the doctor to even let her go home, despite Scary's protests that she was perfectly fine. He didn't know what he'd do if he lost her.

Scarlet turned to him. "It's...it's not fair. That you get him, and I get tossed off to the highest bidder."

He stared. This wasn't like Scarlet—she could laugh at anything, and she'd never once—since he was thirteen and developed a huge crush on Geoffrey, her tutor's son—said a bad thing about his sexual orientation. But, ever since she'd woken up from her week-long coma, she'd been kind of different, subdued. He prayed it was temporary; it would break his heart to see her stuck like this forever.

"It will be okay, I promise."

"I hope you're right." She looked away from him. "Joey...I'm scared."

"Hey," he took her hand and tugged gently until she looked down at him. "If it's so horrible, I'll take you away. It'll be just you and me—and Daniel, of course." He was awarded with a small smile and a laugh, not even close to something the old Scarlet would give him. "I promise, Scary. Just say the word, and we'll be gone."

"Thanks, Joey. I love you, okay?"

"Of course you do. I love you too. Now, go before you get into even more trouble. Your mother is going to be furious that you're riding—more than me." He'd actually yelled at her when he'd seen her galloping toward him; only the heavy tears coursing down her face had stopped his angry tirade. "I'll come over tomorrow, with ice cream."

She smiled again and nudged her horse into a slow walk. When she'd entered the woods, Joey sighed and turned to make his own way home.

***

"Danny, I'm home!" Joey's high but masculine voice rang through the small house. The door was barely closed behind him, and already clothing was tumbling to the floor. They had agreed—no clothing allowed inside, except on special occasions or when company was over (which happened rarely). They liked to be ready at all times, and they certainly put those times to good use.

Joey was getting hard already, remembering yesterday when he'd come in, and his husband in every way possible—had pinned him against the wall and taken him almost brutally. It wasn't extremely painful—just painful enough at the beginning, and then simply animalistic.

"Finally!" Daniel rounded the corner, a white apron tied around his otherwise bare body. He bent to give Joey a quick welcoming kiss before pulling away. Joey pouted. "Not yet. I'm in the middle of dinner." Daniel turned with a little shake of his butt, earning a light swat. "Cut that out, or you'll not get any dessert."

Joey scowled at his retreating back. The man could drive him absolutely insane sometimes. He'd left his short blonde hair ungelled and messy, which he knew Joey loved. The dimple in his left cheek as he winked saucily over his shoulder did nothing to calm Joey's raging hormones. "Scarlet says hello."

Daniel turned back slightly, but kept walking. "How is she feeling?"

"She's getting married—this week. Her mother told her today." Remembering Scarlet's expression, his erection flagged.

Daniel's face darkened. He wasn't as close to Scarlet as Joseph was, but he loved her just as much. Their friendship had had a rocky start, because he'd been scared Joey was in love with Scarlet, but she'd set him straight, so to speak, and he was grateful and ecstatic that she accepted him into her heart so easily after all the pain he'd caused both of them. "To whom?"

"Alford." That name always brought the same reaction. Danny stared at Joey in disbelief. "She's doing it, too. She thinks it's too soon after the accident—she just woke up, for god's sake! But her mother is determined to give her away."

Daniel knew how much this pained his lover. He'd known Joseph for years, but Scarlet had known him even longer. They had a special connection, and when something was wrong with Scarlet, something was wrong with Joey, and vice versa. "Come inside and talk."

Joey sighed. "There's not much to talk about." But he followed the other man into the kitchen and sat at the table while Daniel checked the contents of several pots. "She's not the same, Danny. Ever since the accident...she barely laughed or smiled today. She really held on too. She wasn't spouting plans to run away, either. She just...wilted." Daniel pulled his shaking lover into his lap and wrapped both arms around him. "She—" Joey finally broke down in sobs.

"You know how she is," Danny said gently. "She'll please everybody—every single person on the planet—before she does something for herself. She's doing it because it's what she was told to do."

"I know." Joey tried to get himself under control. "What if he...he could hurt her. He could break her. You know how tiny she is! And what if he frightens her? I can't help. They'll live so far away...you know how she gets when she's scared."

"She'll take her horse out."

"What if he doesn't allow it? She's independent and different. What if he doesn't like her?"

"Shh," you're being silly." Daniel caressed his lover's hair. "Of course he'll love her. Everybody does."

"But you know how he is—how he's supposed to be. What if—"

"What if he falls madly in love with her, and she with him and they live happily ever after?"

"Well what if he doesn't? And she doesn't? And they don't?

Daniel sighed in fond exasperation. Joey had a tendency to overreact when it came to Scarlet, though it was understandable under the circumstances. Joey had been a wreck when Scarlet had been unconscious, and he was still recovering from that hellish week. "She will be fine. She always is."

"What do you know about him?" Joey knew Daniel knew almost everybody in Scarlet's mom's social circle. He'd once been a part of it. "Have you ever met him? Or even seen him?"

"Once, about two months before his..." Daniel stood to remove the pans from the fire. "He's just what everybody says. Big, brooding. Not to sociable." He heard Joey sigh brokenly. "Scarlet will be fine. I wouldn't be surprised if she turned him right around."

"She doesn't love him."

"Of course she doesn't, yet. Everybody knows she only loves you." Danny served dinner, but Joey only picked at it. "I'm sorry, Joey."

"Why?" Joey suddenly swept his plate off the table. The two of them stared at the broken glass and splattered food, before Danny got up to clean the mess. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry, Danny."

"No, you're upset. Let me get this cleaned up, and then you and I will go to bed, and forget for a while, okay?"

"Now..." Without waiting for Daniel to answer, Joseph wrapped the bigger man up in his arms and carried him to the bedroom. He loved that he was strong enough to do that, even though Danny had almost a foot in height and nearly thirty pounds on him. Danny giggled musically, wrapping his hands around his lover's neck and pulling him down for a smoldering kiss.

"Stop!" Joey jerked back, tearing their lips apart, just as they tripped over clothes that Danny had not picked up in their room. "You'll kill us both!"

"What a way to go!" Danny smirked deliciously, nipping at Joey's ear. His voice was low and loaded with unadulterated lust. "Hurry up, already!"

"I'm trying!" Joey's breath came in panting gasps. "Don't do that!" He groaned as Danny's hand drifted down his back to rub the sensitive spot right above his ass. "Danny, I'll explode right here, right now, if you don't quit it."

"Really?" Danny smirked as he walked his fingertips lower. "I'd love to see that." His wide blue eyes grew even wider as his smaller lover shook. When Danny's fingers brushed Joey's most intimate spot, Joseph gasped, shuddered and exploded. Luckily, Danny thought, they were next to the bed, and so tumbled onto it.

"Well," Joey muttered when he came down from his high, nuzzling Danny's neck. "That was a first."

"First what?"

"First time I've ever come without direct stimulation. You've got the magic touch, Danny."

Danny raised his hips to rub his dripping erection against Joey's quickly recovering one, the cooling semen providing the perfect lubricant to his sliding. "We haven't had a lot of time to practice, or I'd have done it ages ago."

"I'm sorry." Joey said automatically. He was still upset that it had taken so long to get with Danny. He'd loved the slightly older man for years, but it had taken almost losing him to realize it. "That's all my fault. I—"

"Oh, shut up." Danny muttered, pushing Joseph onto his back and straddling his hips. "That's over and done with. Now, love me or I'll do it myself."

"You wouldn't." Joseph shot back, the daring tone in his voice buried beneath the pants of desire. He rolled them over again so he loomed above Danny, who giggled that strange musical laughter of his. "What's so funny?"

"Nothing." The bigger man chuckled. "Oh, everything!"

"Hmph." Joseph pretended to be put out.

"Baby..." Danny stopped laughing immediately and wrapped his legs around one of Joey's. He rubbed his whole body against his lover's and moaned. "Mm, Joey..."

"Don't try that with me!" But Joey was already weakening. There was something absolutely strikingly arousing about Danny's voice, especially when he moaned his name. And Danny knew he couldn't resist.

Danny just moved faster. "Please, Joey. I'm so close!"

At that, Joseph pulled away completely and watched Danny's chest heaving as he whined. "I kind of like torturing you like this."

Danny rolled over and reached for him, but his lover backed away quickly. "What are you doing?"

"Hold on." Joey hurried out of the room and Danny dropped to the bed with a sigh. His lover was shy; and though he loved him, Danny wished Joey would actually do something without him having to coerce him into it. Danny didn't look up when the other man came back, didn't raise his head until he felt Joey's hand close around his wrist, followed by what felt like silk, and pull until Danny's arm was stretched above him.

"Shh."

"What the—" Danny tried to sit up when another tie closed around his other wrist and he was stretched. "Joey!"

His normally shy lover had tied him to the bedposts and was preparing to do the same to his legs. They'd never even talked about bondage. Danny had no qualms, but Joey hadn't seemed ready to change their rather straightforward habits. Joey didn't say anything until he'd secured the knots firmly, but not too tightly, around Danny's legs. He raised his eyes slowly up Danny's large, nude, impressively aroused body and met his eyes. 

Danny could see the lust burning in them. "Joseph..."

Instantly, a worried expression smothered the arousal in the smaller man's baby blue eyes. "I'm sorry, Danny!" he made as if to release his lover, but the older man cried out in denial and writhed on the bed. Despite Joseph's fear, he found the movements wildly erotic. "Hold still—"

"Don't you dare untie me!" Danny growled. Joseph's eyes widened. Danny changed his pitch, so his voice was pleading and breathy. "What were you going to do with me, Joey? Now that you've got me tied up and helpless, what are you going to do?"

Joseph breathed out a sigh of relief. Danny wasn't mad! "I really don't have to do anything..." The surprised and pleading whimper from Danny made him laugh. "Let's see..."

He climbed over Danny and straddled his hips, just under his dick, so their erections rubbed together. Danny pushed his head back into the pillow and closed his eyes, letting out a deep moan. Joey leaned over, kissing his lips. He rotated his hips, grinding down on his lover.

"You like that, baby?"

"You know I do," Danny panted. "More. Faster."

Joey set out on a slow, leisurely exploration of Danny's body, using his hands and mouth. Danny moaned almost nonstop and writhed as much as the ropes would allow. He wanted the torture to end, and wanted it to continue forever. Joey's touches were incredibly erotic, but not enough—they were meant to tease, and they were working.

"Joey," Danny whimpered as Joey's fingers slid down to toy with the hair at the apex of his thighs. His nipples had been left untouched, but they were diamond hard, and his also neglected cock wept for some attention. "Please...touch me."

"I am." Joey whispered, moving back up to Danny's abs.

"Damn it! You know what I mean." The tied man ground out. "Touch me!"

He squealed as Joey's weight suddenly disappeared from his legs and warm heat closed over his dick at the same time as his nipples were pinched and rolled between his love's thumb and forefinger. Almost immediately, he came, crying out and bucking against his restraints. Through his arousal, he felt the warmth of Joey's own semen spurting against his leg. His dark haired lover's tongue played along the underside of his cockhead, drawing out the sensations and making him almost painfully sensitve. He mewled until the mouth pulled away.

"Damn!" Joey flopped down beside Danny and gasped for breath. "That was..."

"I wasn't expecting that." Danny sighed happily. "I can't believe you did it twice."

"I wasn't expecting it either. I thought I had better control."

"Untie me, baby," Danny requested. Joey sat up and undid the knots around Danny's wrists and ankles before lying back down. Danny curled around him.

"I love you," they said at the same time, and then: "I love you, too."

"We've got to stop doing that." Joey muttered when they had stopped laughing.

"I love how we just know."

"But it takes away from it. Makes it less serious, because we always laugh."

Danny turned onto his side and lifted up his head to look down at Joey. "Look at me, love. It doesn't make it any less real because we laugh. You know how I feel, and I know how you feel. That's all that matters. We don't even have to say it, you know that. But we do, and for some reason, we're linked so we do it at the same time. That's special. Do you understand that?"

"Yes," Joey smiled. "I love you, Daniel."

"I love you too. How's your leg?"

"Stop worrying about it," Joey looked down towards their feet. "It's fine, Danny. I'm okay."

"I care, baby." Danny pushed him onto his back and started rubbing Joey's disfigured left leg. "You didn't strain it riding with Scarlet, did you?"

"Maybe a little." Joey admitted, looking away. He hated that he was messed up and his lover had to constantly worry and tell him to go easy on himself. He'd been trampled by a horse when he was just a toddler, and it was a miracle he could even walk. He was used to it, and had learned to hide the limp, but Danny still pestered him about it. "But I wasn't limping too bad."

"Yes, you were. And then you carried me." Daniel scolded gently. Joey looked about to cry. "You should've told me."

"I've grown up with it." Joey reminded him, his voice rising unconsciously. "I'm used to it. I don't need you to tell me what to do!"

"Shh, baby. I'm sorry." Danny lay back down and kissed the frown away from Danny's forehead. "I can't help worrying about you. I love you, Joey. I'm always going to care, and I'm always going to ask how you're doing. Even if your leg was perfectly fine, I'd care and ask."


Beauty--Remastered Ch. 01



Joey's lower lip trembled as he tried not to cry. They had had this talk so many times, and every time Danny said it, it made him want to cry. "I know. I'm sorry, Daniel!"

Danny just held him tightly until he'd calmed down and stopped sniffling. Then he rolled him back onto his back and continued the massage, this time going slower and brushing Joseph's testicles and shaft sensually as he moved further up. He smirked when Joey began hardening again and his breath became shallower. "Three times, love?"

"I can't help it, you know that. And you're not making it any easier." Joey panted, squirming when Danny abandoned his leg altogether and concentrated on his penis. "Please, Danny."

Danny smiled even more and reached for the rumpled ties. He tapped the end of one against Joey's dick and met the stormy eyes with glee. "My turn."



Beauty--Remastered Ch. 02



Dear reader...ah, I'm so embarrassed. I promised myself I'd write this faithfully, but that promise was broken. I'm so sorry if you read the first chapter forever ago. Lots of happenings since then, but that's hardly an excuse.

So, here is chapter 2. Chapter 3 coming as soon as humanly possible, I hope. Let me know what you think, dears. Thank you sooo much! Kisses!

***

Scarlet stayed away from the big house as long as she could. Brushing down her horse, Cupid, took much longer than usual, on account of both her sore body, and she was stalling. Then she showered in the stable, and changed into clothes that didn't smell of horse. If she was lucky, she wouldn't get into too much trouble, although she wasn't even supposed to be out of bed today, let alone away from home.

She had no such luck. Her mother met her at the door as soon as she eased it open. Michelle Lennox was tall, with short copper hair and crystalline blue eyes. Some people couldn't believe Scarlet was her daughter, but when they saw her father, they understood. The man had been shorter than his wife, with a balding head of brunette and cowed brown eyes. The only attribute Scarlet got from her mother was the dark smattering of freckles that spread adorably across her nose and cheeks.

"Where have you been?" Michelle glowered at her daughter.

"I went riding." It was better to just admit the truth. "I had to see Joseph."

"Annabelle..." Her mother was the only one to call her by her first name.

'Annabelle Scarlet Lennox', Scarlet thought, wrinkling her nose as she started up the stairs to her room. 'I hate my name.'

"Where are you going?" Her mother followed her. "I'm lying down, if that's okay with you?" Scarlet pulled her jeans off and climbed under her covers in her panties and t-shirt. "What do you want?"

"Don't be mad at me. This is for your own good."

"Right."

Michelle Lennox paced the room. She wasn't a bad mother—compared to some of the women in her social circle, she was actually very nice. But she had to keep her daughter safe, and now that her father was dead, she was certain that Scarlet's protection needed to be amped up. And she, a sick woman, wouldn't be able to do much. Besides, Scarlet was a good age to be married. Eighteen wasn't too young—she herself had taken the plunge at seventeen.

"Mother—" Scarlet was cut off by the door opening, and several maids came in, lugging suitcases. "What the hell is this?" The women only faltered slightly, casting nervous glances her way. "I'm not leaving for days. I don't need my things packed already." The guilty look on her mom's face made her heart sink. "Before the end of the week?"

"You leave tomorrow."

A scream tore itself from Scarlet's throat before she could stop it. "This isn't fair!"

"I'm doing this for you, daughter." Michelle sat on the edge of the bed cautiously. "You need someone to take care of you. Donovan Alford is a good man—"

"Have you met him?"

"Well, no, but—"

"Then you couldn't possibly know that!"

"It was what your father wanted. Believe me, Scarlet, if I had my way, I wouldn't do this, but...your father changed his will. Not long before the accident. If you don't marry Donovan, you and I will be destitute. In the hospital, before he passed, he said it had to happen within the week. Since you were in the hospital, the judge granted a stay, until you were well enough."

She sat up. "Why would he do that?"

Her mother looked away. "I don't know. I am sorry."

"Mom..." Scarlet hugged her. She knew her mom wasn't so bad, she was actually very wonderful, despite her irritating old fashioned-ness. Some of it, Scarlet didn't actually mind, but certain things...they had to go. She supposed that was one of the few things about her impending marriage that was almost beneficial to her. "Fine. Can you go away, for now? I need to think."

"Of course." 

Scarlet flopped onto her back, ignoring the maids who were still packing her things. Stupid Father. She'd never really liked him much, anyway. He was too...too skittish. Too scared of something. Paranoid. Always looking over his shoulder as if he thought someone was going to come after him. 

And, she supposed, someone probably eventually would. They'd gone from riches to rags, to riches in the space of her short lifetime, everything gained and lost dishonestly. When she was six, he'd come home and told them to pack up, and not an hour later, they were gone, never to return. Apparently, he'd lost everything they owned, and there were men coming for him. Over the years, she'd learned not to get too comfortable anywhere, because every few months, it'd be the same thing.

When she was thirteen, he came home again, and told them to pack. She'd been terrified, but he brought them to a brand new home, a huge mansion. It took her three years to get comfortable enough to stop living out of her suitcase. He never told them what he did to get it all back, but from then on, they were grounded, stuck in one place. 

Still, she never forgave him for that first hurried move away from her life.

"Miss Scarlet," One of the maids approached the bed cautiously, and she sat up slowly, biting back a moan. "This came for you..."

Scarlet took the envelope curiously. Her name and address graced the front, but there was no sender listed. A folded paper fell into her lap as she pulled it open. On top was a small typed note. Miss Annabelle Lennox,

The following are a list of rules you are expected to follow while living at Alford Manor. 

Any disobedience will result in thorough punishment as I see fit. I expect you promptly at eight o'clock, tomorrow evening.

Donovan Alford

Scarlet's eyes widened. 'Rules? He's giving me rules to be his wife? Who the fuck does he think he is?'

The list wasn't long, but it was still enough to make her mad.

1: No automobiles.

2: No music, unless self-generated.

3: No electric or technological items.

4: You must wear a dress at all times; no 'jeans' or trousers.

5: Cell phones are strictly prohibited.

6: There are few servants, so you shall be self-sufficient and clean up after yourself.

7: Stay in your quarters, or rooms I shall designate for you. There is to be no wandering about.

8: You shall obey me.

9: Do not bother me; any contact between us, I shall decide and request.

10: No visitors.

She didn't mind a few of them. Several, though, grated on her nerves. Most of the technology she could do without. She wasn't a pampered princess, so she could take care of herself. The commands, though...those she knew she'd have trouble with

She never wore dresses, if she could help it. She wasn't rebellious, but being told to obey a man she'd never met wasn't something she could even consider doing. The thought of being at his beck and call was almost enough to cry. And no visitors? That would be broken time and time again, even if it was just Joey or Danny.

Frustrated, she balled up the paper and threw it into the unlit fireplace. Fuck him!

***

Donovan Alford paced the entry hall of his large, cold home. They were so close to being late. Tardiness was not something he'd stand for, and every passing second just drove his irritation higher.

Actually, it wasn't just the close call that was grating on his nerves. He had been irritated nonstop since his father's lawyer came to him, not one week ago, and informed him of his impending nuptials. He'd been shocked, even more so he found out who it was. Annabelle Lennox. He'd seen her, once. It was years ago, but he still remembered it, remembered her face. She had been only fourteen or fifteen, and he had been nearly twenty, but he still thought she was the cutest little thing he'd ever seen. She was out with her mother, a tall, willowy woman. The stores they had gone into were expensive, and as their paths crossed several times that day, he noticed she looked nervous every time they'd entered one, and she had less than half the bags her mother had. She looked terrified when a short man who looked so much like her that he could only be her father joined them.

He also remembered, only once did she smile, and that was when a little boy bumped into her, spilling his chocolate ice cream down her simple blue jeans. She'd laughed, and he couldn't help chuckling silently with her, from a distance, when she took the sad little boy's hand and bought him a brand new cone. After she rejoined her parents, that scared look took over again.

After that, he'd learned everything he could about that strange little girl. Years ago, her family had been well off, but somehow they managed to lose everything, and dropped off the face of the earth. Then, a year or so before he'd seen her, they were back, with fresh money and a new home. Her mother had once been one of the most famous, well-known supermodels to grace the newsstands since Twiggy Lawson, but she gave it up to raise her daughter, like a dutiful mother. 

Her father, from what he could gather, was their downfall and uprising, the one who lost it all and gained it back. Donovan knew it hadn't been through honest means.

Annabelle, on the other hand, remained a mystery. She'd been too young to cause much of a stir before their disappearance, and when she came back, she didn't seem willing to be the socialite that was expected of her. There was nothing he could learn about the little woman who'd somehow bewitched him without even knowing it. After his accident, though, he hadn't seen the point in keeping tabs on her, and his mild obsession waned.

At least, until his lawyer reminded him.

He was stirred from his increasingly morose thoughts by the sound of wheels and horses outside his door. He pulled it open, and was greeted by quiet muttering and bangs as his future wife and her maids collected her baggage. Abner, his butler, slid by him cautiously and helped the women gather Annabelle's belongings. Behind him, the grandfather clock struck eight. 

Just in time.

Knowing he would just be in the way, Donovan retreated to his study, where he knew Abner would bring Annabelle after she was settled. He was suddenly nervous as he paced in front of the lit fireplace. He didn't want to marry her in the first place, but there was something in him, the last shred of his former obsessed self, that hoped she liked him, at least a little bit.

He tamped those thoughts down immediately. It didn't matter. He didn't know her, and what they were doing was only out of necessity, which he thought was a stupid reason anyway. He didn't want to be married out of necessity -- he didn't want to be married at all. But what choice did he have? Donovan made up his mind to contact his lawyer first thing in the morning, to make absolutely certain there was no way to get out of this. He'd already asked at least twice a day since discovering his impending nuptials, but the answer never changed. Still, he could always hope.

"Sir?" Abner's voice startled him much sooner than he'd expected and he froze with his back to the door. "Miss Lennox."

He heard someone enter the room, but didn't turn around. The door closed, and the room was silent. For a moment, he wondered if she'd even come in, but a soft sound, like a sniffle, alerted him to her presence. Still, he didn't say anything and didn't turn to her. She seemed to be waiting for him, but he couldn't move. That piece of the old him had almost leaped for joy when she came in the room, and he was still struggling to shove it back where it belonged, at the very back part of his being.

Finally, after almost several minutes, he turned. His back was to the fire, and he knew that otherwise the room was dark, so she wouldn't be able to see him very well. He wanted it that way. "Annabelle..."

"Mr. Alford," Came a quiet, prim voice. So this was what she sounded like? It fit the little girl he remembered: soft, shy.

"Welcome to Alford Manor. I hope your trip was...comfortable." God, what was he saying?

"It was."

"Did you get my letter?"

"Yes." There was a definite edge in her voice.

"Was there a problem with it?"

"Yes. You can't simply expect me to follow those 'rules'."

"Why not?"

"They're barbaric. We don't live in the dark ages, and I will not be at your beck and call."

He stepped forward. "You are going to be my wife, are you not? And as such, you are required to follow my instructions."

"Not if I can help it!" Her voice came closer, dripping with venom. "I don't want to marry you. This is absolutely ridiculous, and I will not submit to it."

"I'm afraid you have no choice in the matter, Annabelle." He detected a faint hiss when he said her name. "We will be married tomorrow evening."

"No..." the fire left her voice. "So soon?"

Donovan didn't know why he was fighting with her about this. She obviously wanted this about as much as he did, which was not at all. Even with old Donovan cheering for the wedding and their joining, he knew this was stupid. Arranged marriages were, as she put it, barbaric. But she was going to be his wife, whether she liked it or not. Steeling himself, he glared down at her. "Yes. The minister will be here at six, and Abner will stand for us as a witness. There is a gown in your room that you will wear."

"No wedding?" Now, there was a hint of...sadness?

"No. I saw no reason for one, as I am marrying you simply out of duty." He backed up a step, realizing suddenly how close they were. "Now, I will let you go finish unpacking. I will send Abner up when it is time for supper."

"Wait." She settled her hand on his arm carefully. He startled, making her pull back. "I would at least like to see who I'm marrying." Donovan hesitated, but Scarlet tugged him gently. "Come into the light."

Donovan reluctantly allowed her to turn him. Her hands dropped from his arm almost immediately, a small, almost imperceptible gasp catching in her throat, and he stepped back. A bitter smile curved his lips.

"It wasn't about that." Scarlet protested truthfully. In fact, she hadn't even noticed his eyes until he pulled away. What had made her gasp, instead, was...him. She'd never really been interested in men; but if she'd had a type, he would be it.

Curly chestnut hair brushed past his shoulders, falling in silky waves, one strand just brushing round pink lips. A mildly heavy five o'clock shadow darkened his strong but delicately lined jaw, making his almost androgynous face more masculine. He was broad shouldered, but slender, and so tall, over a foot taller than her. When she looked up at him, he just about took her breath away.

And then there were his eyes. Large and dark, surrounded by long lashes. But they were unfocused and when he closed his eyes, she could see his eyelids crisscrossed by thin scars.

"Oh, wasn't it?" Donovan's voice was bitter when turned away again.

"No. You—you're—" Gorgeous!

"Blind."

"No—yes. Well, you are that, but—" Since when had she ever stammered around men?

"I'll take you to your room." Donovan walked away abruptly, and she ran to follow. He led her upstairs and down a long, dark hallway.

In the dim light, his white shirt was the only thing Scarlet could really see. There were old-fashioned torches placed at intervals, but the spaces between were pitch black. She hurried along behind him, almost afraid of being left alone in the dark.

Donovan turned so suddenly, she almost ran into him. "I thought I said no jeans?"

Scarlet looked down at her lower half. How did he know? He couldn't see her. "I --"

"I think you will find, Annabelle, that my hearing is better than most. And disobedience is not something I will tolerate." He took her arm and pulled her along, his grip punishing. "This once, because it is your first offence, I will let it go."

They entered a room. Vaguely, as she tripped along, Scarlet wondered how he knew it was hers. To her, every darkened doorway in that long hall seemed the same. But it *was* the cold, cheerless bedroom she'd been shown to by the butler.

"But," Donovan continued, leading her to the bed where her suitcases were piled. "If I must remind you of the rules again, you will be punished. I assume you don't have them with you."

"I burned them." She said daringly, tugging ineffectively to escape his grip.

"Stop fighting me." His voice didn't change a bit, but she halted her struggling immediately. There was something about his soft tone that seemed a warning. "Now, I want all of your jeans, pants, trousers and such."

She stared at him for a moment. "No. I will wear whatever the fuck I want. I'm going to be your wife, Donovan, not your slave." His face darkened, causing her heart to leap, but she swallowed the fear and raised her chin defiantly. "Let me tell you something. I don't want to marry you, but I have to out of duty. But that doesn't mean I will submit in any way. So fuck off and get the hell out of my bedroom."

"Annabelle..." He was quiet still. "Do not test me."

She jerked away suddenly. Her arm felt bruised from his grip, but she squared her shoulders. "I said get out."

"So be it." He sat down on the bed and tugged her over his lap too quickly for her to fight. His large hand came down against her jean clad bottom sharply and she yelped, more from surprise than pain. "I'm going to go easy on you, Annabelle. Just this once. Test me again, and you'll receive double. Now, count them off." He swatted her again, but she made no reply. He gripped her chin and tugged her to face him. "I said: Count. Them. Off." This time, the strike elicited a soft gasp of pain.

"One." Scarlet whispered, staring at him still. He nodded and swung again. "Two. Three..." She counted twenty spanks, each one harder than the last, and by the time he released her, her backside was stinging. Anger scorched through her veins. She hadn't been spanked since she was a little girl, and this man, her 'fiancée' had no right at all to do it to her now.

Donovan stood up. "Now, your pants."

Finally, she opened her suitcases and began pulling them out. She threw them at his head, and he somehow managed to catch most of them. That just made her angrier. Hitting him would've made her feel just a little bit better, like she had more control in this.

"And those." He nodded his head at her. She shoved the jeans she was wearing down over slender hips and pushed them into his full arms. "Thank you."

Scarlet followed him to the door, prepared to slam and lock it after he left. "Good night."

He acted like he hadn't heard her. "I will be expecting you for dinner in half an hour."

"I'm not hungry." She closed the door and reached to lock it. A groan escaped her throat; there was no lock. So there was no way she could keep him out. Leaning against the door, she turned to study the room. A big old desk was a few feet away. She could use that as a barricade, she reasoned. It could probably keep out even the most fervent invader.

The desk was even heavier than she'd expected, though that was a double-edged sword. She shoved and pulled it in front of the door, gritting her teeth at the strain. That done, she stepped back to observe her handiwork. If he wanted to come in, it would be by her leave.

Scarlet went back to her suitcases and pulled on a robe. Her room was frigid, especially without her pants. Thankfully, there was a fireplace, already stocked and ready to be lit. She searched the room for matches and lit the wood with a relieved sigh. There was a large pile of extra firewood nearby, but she would have to replenish it tomorrow.

While her room slowly warmed, she continued unpacking. Without her pants, her entire wardrobe seemed to have shrunk by half. She hadn't had time or the patience to go shopping for dresses or skirts earlier. And she really hadn't wanted to. Now, it looked like she'd have to, if she expected to exit her room at all. There were a total of three dresses in her suitcases, and about half a dozen skirts. They were all too formal for everyday use, though. No matter. She would make do with what she had until she got the chance -- or freedom -- to go shopping.




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 02



At the bottom of one of her suitcases, she discovered another broken rule: her cell phone. There had been no way she would go anywhere without some means of contacting Joey. Her mother had been adamant about her following whatever rules her bastard fiancée ordered, having received a duplicate of the list, so Scarlet wouldn't waste her breath on calling her. She had no other real friends or family she would ever want to hear from, but Joey was her best friend. She doubted her ability to survive without him. 

A terrible thought crossed her mind as she waited for the device to power on. What if she didn't get service? They were pretty far out in the middle of nowhere. Praying fervently, she muffled the opening ringtone, and then checked it frantically.

Though the signal was weak, she at least had one. Relief flooded her body as she pressed her favorite speed dial number.

"Scary!" Joey's happy voice lifted her spirits after the first ring. "You're alive."

Scarlet almost wept. It had been only a day since she'd seen or heard him, but it felt like years. "Joey --"

"Oh, no," he sobered immediately. "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

At the sound of his concern, the tears she'd been holding back all day broke free. Between sobs, she told him everything, and heard him get madder and madder. Especially when she mentioned the spanking. "I'm so scared, Joey,"

"You want me to come get you?"

She laughed, albeit bitterly, at that. "You know I can't. Mom's depending on me."

"I know. This is fucking stupid, Scary. Why the fuck did your bastard father do this to you?"

"I don't know," she whispered, wiping her face. "I -- hold on."

A quiet knock came from the door. That wouldn't be her 'fiancée.' Somehow, he didn't seem like the knocking type. The butler, Abner, called her. "Miss Lennox? Lord Alford requests your presence."

Scarlet called back, "I'm not going to dinner, Abner."

"But --"

"I said no." She waited until she heard him retreating and picked up the phone again. She kept her voice low. "I'm not supposed to have a phone."

"What?" Joey sounded surprised. She could almost see the expression on his face. "He said you couldn't use a phone?"

"It's in the rules." She snickered. "The imbecile gave me a list and he expects me to follow them."

"You're asking for trouble. Oh, Daniel just walked in. He says hi."

"Can I talk to him?"

"Hello, beautiful," Danny's deep voice came over the line.

"I miss you." She murmured. Joey and Danny were her whole world, even if Danny had once hated her guts. "God, this place sucks."

Danny laughed like she knew he would. He was more capable of making light of things than Joey, and that was what she needed. Already, she felt another swell of tears. "Yeah, well, this place sucks without you here. And we miss you too. Hey, how about tomorrow we come visit?"

"You can't. I'm not allowed any visitors."

"What?" He almost shouted. She could hear Joey in the background, asking what was wrong. "What the fuck?"

"I don't know. He's such a -- " She was cut off by a loud pounding on her door. Ah, that was more like him. "Shit, he's at the door."

"Annabelle, open this door!" His voice came through the thick wood and she shivered. Even though she hated him, there was something that sent delicious chills up her spine. "Damn it, Annabelle!"

"Go away!"

"Open it, now!" She heard him jiggling the knob, and for a moment she feared that the desk, which now seemed small and insignificant against his fury, wouldn't hold. But it did. "You will be punished for this."

"Not if you can't get to me!" She yelled back snidely. He started cursing at her and she picked up the phone again. "I want to go home."

"Scary," Joey had the phone again. "I'm so sorry. We'll figure something out. Danny and I, we'll come up with something, and then we'll all leave. I promise."

"I wanted to tell you...I'm getting married tomorrow." Her heart ached and she couldn't take it anymore. "I have to go. I'll call you later." She hung up on Joey's protests and dropped the phone back in her bag. Tears coursed down her cheeks as she collapsed on the floor, staring at the door where Donovan was still attempting to get in.

Her heart sank even lower, though she hadn't thought it was possible, when she realized that she'd have to get out of the room for her 'wedding' and that would give him the perfect opportunity to dish out whatever punishment he wanted. The sick bastard probably got off on inflicting pain on her.

Scarlet stood up when the banging stopped, and climbed under the covers of the bed. Her room was huge, and still slightly chilly, but she was numb. As much as she'd tried to treat this whole disaster as lightly as possible, she knew it was in impossible that anything good would happen. No matter what Joey and Danny did, she'd be married to that monster out there, and she'd have to submit eventually.

Her cheeks burned at the memory of his stong hand against her soft bottom. She had been too angry to notice at the time, but there was something terribly exciting about his forcefulness. He was beautiful and so commanding, something she'd never really known. She was, she admitted reluctantly, attracted to him in some impossible way. The spanking she could do without, and his unapologetic domineering attitude pissed her off beyond belief. But still...it was *hot*.

Damn him!

"He won't break me," She whispered fiercely into the cold, quiet room, the tears drying on her cheeks.



Beauty--Remastered Ch. 03



Dear readers...first off, sorry for the corny tagline. Second off, thank you so much for reading this and *hint hint* voting and *even louder hint hint* commenting. You guys rock! 

Chapter 4 is coming soon, cross my heart, but maybe not as quickly as this one did, because I'll be going through some intense changes over the next few weeks. But never fear. You'll get to hear more about Donovan and Scarlet soon enough. I'm also beginning work on a story for Joey and Danny, so keep a look out for that delish one =)

And now, without further ado, here's chapter 3!

***

Scarlet couldn't have picked a more fittingly dismal day for an equally dismal wedding. Outside the mansion she was imprisoned in, thunder and lightning raged, and fat raindrops pelted the windows.

She sat, huddled on the bed, glaring at the beautiful, if simple, white gown she was supposed to be wearing. It was nothing she would have ever chosen for herself, but even from just a glance, she knew the silky satin gown would be almost perfect on her small figure. The slightly dropped waist would reveal her subtle curves, and the strapless sweetheart neckline would accent her small, but very full breasts.

Which, she scowled even more, would be ridiculous, since her groom was blinder than a bat. It seemed wrong, anyway, to wear a real wedding gown for this sham of a marriage.

She heard Abner's approach out in the silent corridor. A moment later, there was a hesitant knock. "Miss Lennox?" She made no reply and the man continued. "Lord Alford is waiting."

"And wait, he shall." She murmured to herself.

"Please, milady."

She laughed at that. Every time Abner came to speak to her, on his boss' behalf, he'd called her 'milady.' The term was so outdated, like the man had stepped out of a story book. This whole situation was, in fact, straight out of a Grimm Fairytale.

"Annabelle." At the sound of her name from her captor's lips, her small bit of amusement faded. "You will be downstairs in no more than twenty minutes. And you will be wearing that gown. We are getting married, whether you like it or not."

She didn't move a muscle. He couldn't get through the door with that desk in front of it; he'd tried already. And if she wasn't there, they couldn't marry. It was a paltry rebellion, because she knew deep down inside, that he'd eventually hold her mother's welfare over her head and she'd surrender and go downstairs to a fate worse – she supposed, anyway – than death. But, for now, she'd stay exactly where she was, in her regular clothes.

"You must be hungry." He called abruptly, startling her. She stared at the door. "Abner has prepared a sort of celebratory feast for after the wedding."

Scarlet was hungry; she hadn't eaten since yesterday morning, but *he* didn't know that. She didn't need food terribly, and he wasn't going to lure her outside with the promise of it.

"I think he made an apple pie to finish it off. That is your favorite, isn't it, Annabelle?" Donovan's voice was muffled, but almost wheedling.

Scarlet's stomach growled. How the hell he knew that she liked apple pie was beyond her. She continued to ignore him, though.

"In fact, I think the whole meal is all for you. There's macaroni and cheese with four kinds of cheese. Salmon. And you love strawberry cheesecake, don't you?"

"Those don't even go together." She muttered to herself. She stood and paced across the carpet to keep her mind off her stomach's increasingly loud demands that she open the goddamn door. "Why the hell does it matter to him if I come out or not? He said he doesn't want to marry me. And how the hell does he know my favorites?"

Donovan stopped describing the various foods Abner had made, and she breathed a sigh of relief. He'd gone, at last. A few minutes later, though, he proved her wrong. "Annabelle, please come down. We can talk about this, if you'd like."

She stopped her pacing, confused by his somber and nearly apologetic tone. And, against her better judgment, she replied. "What is there to talk about?"

He took a moment to respond. "Please. I don't want this either, but we'll have to make the most of it. I promise you, if there is any way to get out of this without ruining you or your mother, I'll find it. Just...marry me now."

She found herself leaning against the desk, almost ready to push it aside. When he talked like that, softly and so not dictatorially, something in her wondered if being married to him wasn't so bad as all that. She shoved that irrational little piece of her in the very back of her mind. No way in hell was he going to sweet talk her into surrendering. "Why does it matter to you if my mother and I have nothing?"

"I don't know." He sounded as if he was leaning against the door on the other side.

"It wouldn't be so awful, you know," Much to her own surprise, she perched on the desk to actually talk to the barbarian. "I could get a job. We don't have to be rich, after all. You don't have to marry me just to make sure me and my mother are cared for. We can do it on our own."

"And what about when the hospital bills came?"

"Those were taken care of already." It would all work out, she mused. If he'd just let her go, she could build a life for her mother. Granted, it wouldn't be nearly as flush as they'd become used to, but they'd done it before and they could do it again. They'd do it better this time around. "Don't you see - you don't need me, and I don't need you."

"Not yours. And not your father's." He was...sad? Regretful? "Your mother's."

She hesitated. "What are you talking about?"

"She didn't tell you?"

"Tell me what?" When he didn't reply, she raised her voice. "Tell me what?"

"Annabelle..."

Scarlet shoved the desk away with a sudden strength that belied her small stature and wrenched open the door. She pushed the man she was eventually going to have to marry across the hall into the wall, and he didn't fight her. "Tell. Me. What?"

Donovan's throat worked briefly. Now that he had to tell her, he didn't want to. He wished he could take it all back, let her go back into her room to fume and ignore his attempts to get her out. But there was no going back. "I think she should be the one to tell you –"

"Like hell. Donovan, I swear, if you don't tell me..." She trailed off. She had no real threat to make. Anything she could think of would probably mean diddly to him. "Please."

"Your mother is sick." He said it reluctantly. When she softened her tone for that 'please,' it made him feel lower than dirt to want to keep anything away from her. Hell, if she ever wanted anything from him, all she'd have to do was say that one soft word and he'd give her the world.

"How sick?" She asked, but she instinctively knew. Not a cold, not the flu. Nothing paltry like that. Her mother never got sick.

"She's dying, Annabelle." He tried to say it as gently as possible, but he still felt her pain as she released his collar and stepped back. "She has a tumor, and the doctors haven't given her much time. She is being admitted to the hospital tomorrow. She just wanted to make sure you were out of the house and taken care of before –"

"How did you find out?" Her voice was surprisingly calm. He had expected her to break down in tears or try to deny the whole thing. But she didn't.

"She told me." Again, he sensed her flare of pain, and he winced. "The day I found out about the marriage, the day after your accident, she called me."

"There never was any 'stay'. Or limit. Was there?" She whispered. "She said...she said that it had to be done soon, or...she said my father said a week."

"No. There was a time limit...we're supposed to be married when you turn twenty. But your assets and inheritance would be frozen until then, with a small allowance. When your mother found out she was sick, she knew you would never be able to take care of her in her illness with what you were given. And she didn't want you to have to work so hard, when it wouldn't do any good."

"So it's definite, then?" She was still calm. Some niggling part of her mind argued that something was off; there was something about this whole mess that didn't make sense. She just didn't have the strength or clarity to figure it out just yet. "She's really dying?"

"Yes. I'm so sorry, Annabelle." He reached for her unconsciously. She stepped back. "You shouldn't have found out like this."

A mirthless chuckle escaped her, too loud in the cold echoing hallways. It bounced harshly around her dizzy head. "No shit." He opened his mouth to try again, but she shushed him. "Give me ten minutes."

***

Exactly ten minutes later, the reluctant couple was standing stiffly in front of a priest. Abner stood quietly behind them in the dark, cool study. Scarlet's icy hands were resting in her groom's, just dead weight, and she faced him with a blank stare. The aging vicar looked nervously between the two of them as they repeated their vows in monotone, reluctant voices.

Donovan stared down at his little bride, wishing he could see her face. It didn't sound like she had been crying, but she could have easily hid that. The part of him that wanted her, somehow bigger than it was yesterday, wished he could comfort her. It was a shock to her, to hear that her mother was going to die. He hadn't wanted to be the one to tell her; Michelle really should've said something a long time ago.

"I do." Scarlet's voice interrupted his thought process. Were they done already? When had he said his vows?

"You may kiss your bride, my lord." The priest stepped back.

Donovan heard Scarlet's indrawn breath. He hadn't thought of the kissing part. He had hardly even touched her yet. The thought of his lips on hers...then again, why was he stressing about this? She was his wife. He pulled her closer, growling subvocally when she tried to resist. "Do not fight me, Annabelle."

The priest looked ready to say something. Scarlet paled when her...her husband tugged her flush against his body. One arm wrapped around her back, making her arch against him on her tiptoes. His other hand tilted her chin further up. His sightless, beautiful dark eyes, which she could now see were a deep forest green, had her mesmerized. The pink lips, which she'd thought a touch too rounded, like a woman's, yesterday...today, they seemed more sensual, manlier.

Especially when the right corner tipped up in a sexy self-satisfied grin. A blushing thought slipped through her mind before she could rein it in: what would those decadent lips feel like? Taste like? Would he – oh! He was leaning –

As far as first kisses went, Scarlet's was damn near perfect. Donovan was gentle at first, almost hesitant. Once he got a feel for her lips, he set about ravishing them. She wanted to resist; she tried. But the warmth and sensation of his lips on hers and...well, whatever else she felt, was too much for her.

She practically melted into him with a quiet little mewl, despite everything. He just held her tighter, and she didn't mind a bit that she couldn't breathe. In some part of her mind, she knew what a spectacle they were making of themselves, but with only Abner and the nervous priest observing, who would complain? So she let the kiss go on and on...and on some more.

It was only when his tongue darted against her lips that she pulled away. Or, as away as she could get in his tight embrace. His face was flushed, and his breath short. She knew she was in the same disheveled state. All of her anger and frustration came back in a heady rush and she worked harder to escape his clutches.

She opened her mouth to order him to release her, but her words were cut short by his lips attacking hers again. Taking complete advantage of the opening, his tongue forced its way between her teeth and slid along her own.

Scarlet's knees buckled under his fierce onslaught, but he simply held her tighter, pulled her up against him. She felt every hard muscle in his body pressed against her.

A wave of something she'd never felt before, but she knew could only be desire shivered through her body, and pooled between her legs. All too soon, immediately, she needed *something* she didn't know. Pressure, contact...anything to get rid of that needy ache.

His knee worked its way between her thighs somehow, and she was horrified to find herself rubbing against it, trying to relieve that tension his kiss was building. A tingling spread through her, growing from her loins, scattering heat through her veins. She couldn't stop herself. Now that she had a means to an end, there was nothing on this earth that could stop her from relieving that elusive, consistent ache.

'Oh, god!' Scarlet thought frantically, writhing in his arms, trying both to get away and pull him closer. 'God, please, no!'

It was too late. One more rub of his tongue, one last grind of his muscular thigh on her core, and she came undone against him. She gasped against his mouth, and he pressed deeper, as if to consume and penetrate her at once. He swallowed her soft cries and moans hungrily until she had nothing more to give. Scarlet collapsed against him, not even feeling his kisses anymore. Her dark eyes fluttered closed.

'That was...' She didn't have the words, or the strength to describe it, even in her mind, so she simply sighed against his warmth.

Donovan's broad chest shook with repressed laughter, and her mind instantly snapped into focus. A scarlet blush tinged her cheeks as she carefully and deliberately unwound her groom's arms from her waist. She chanced a peek at the vicar and instantly wished she hadn't. The poor red-faced man looked completely scandalized, confused and just plain frightened. Abner was a bit better; the butler seemed more amused than anything else. And Donovan smiled down at her with a predatory look that made her insides turn to jelly.

Scarlet's deep blush was still reigning supreme as she turned to the priest, but she managed an unaffected tone like they hadn't just...done what they did right in front of a man of the cloth. "Will you stay to dinner, Father?"

"Ah – oh, no!" He squeaked, backing up a step or two as if their debauchery could rub off on him. "I should be going. I couldn't intrude. And my wife is waiting. Yes – er, *no*! I – I –"

"Abner, show him out." Donovan interrupted the man's babbling. "Thank you, Father."

The priest followed the butler, casting a wary eye back at the newlyweds; looking, for all the world, like he was scared they would chase after him and force him into their carnal wickedness. "Good evening."

"That was despicable." Scarlet hissed as soon as the door was closed. Donovan turned to her again, and the look on his face made her step back several paces. "The man's a priest, for God's sake. You can't do...that...in front of a fucking priest!"

"You enjoyed it, Annabelle." He stalked her around the room; for every one step he took in her direction, she took three away. The furniture she dodged behind was no hindrance to him, as he either pushed it aside or trailed her around it.

He grinned at the way her breath spiked, remembering the way she was panting and wriggling in his arms just moments ago. He'd never felt anything as erotic as her coming against his leg. He hadn't cared that they'd been observed, either. The fact that she'd brought herself to orgasm on him, fully clothed and in front of an audience, was arousing in itself. God, he'd never been so hard, so ready to thoroughly ravish someone. He wondered if she was always this responsive.

"Whether or not I enjoyed it is not the point." She ignored the way her voice was shaking and stepped behind a chair. He followed and she backed into the wall. Her heart stuttered with fear as she realized he had her nearly cornered, and she'd be trapped if she didn't move over in the few seconds it would take him to reach her. Before she could move away, he was on her again. He didn't kiss her this time, just braced his hands on either side of her head so she couldn't get away. "W-what are you doing?"

"You've had your fun, my dear." His voice was sinfully low. "Now, it's my turn."

"What –" She gasped.

He kissed her words away for the second time, this kiss even more intense and brutal than the last, though she hadn't thought that would be possible. He pushed her flat against the wall and loomed over her. She tried to push him off, but he simply caught both small hands in one of his and raised them above her head. With his other hand, he pulled her up, lifted her to his level. Her feet dangled uselessly for several moments until she yielded and wrapped them around his waist.

Donovan released her hands, obviously confident that she wouldn't try to fight him off anymore. She hesitated, debating, but finally wrapped her arms around his neck. Fighting him was useless.

Donovan shoved her dress up past her knees abruptly and pressed against her hard. She felt his arousal and whimpered into his mouth. He loved that sound, the sound of her need, her fear. He wouldn't take his wife against the wall like the barbarian she thought he was. His delicious little wife deserved sheets and candles and a great big bed. No, he could wait to have her. That didn't mean, though, that he wasn't going to have his pleasure.

Thrusting his tongue in and out of her mouth, mirroring exactly what he wanted to do to her with other parts of their bodies, he reached between them to unsnap his trousers. She didn't notice until he pressed his aching, burning shaft against her silky panties.

Scarlet stiffened and set about dislodging him again. "Get that fucking thing away from me."

He held her tighter and thrust his hips into her. Her furious words shuddered to a moan. "You like that, Annabelle?"

She didn't answer, and he didn't care. He knew she did. Her panties were soaked, and her juices provided a wonderfully warm, wet surface for him to slide against. He thrust harder, faster, and let her moan as loud as she wanted. Now that they were alone, he wanted to hear her every sound loud and clear. Before his accident, he hadn't appreciated the noises his lovers made as he fucked them into oblivion. Annabelle was the first woman he'd had since, and he realized exactly what he'd missed.

Her sighs and whimpers changed as he changed pace or angle. Quiet moans drifted from her open lips, turned to soft squeaks when he moved harder and faster, which got louder and harsher when he began centering his movements on her throbbing clit. Every noise she let escape only drove him higher.

After only a few minutes, he was on the edge. He slowed reluctantly. She wasn't ready yet. He wanted to feel her crashing around him when he exploded.

"D-Donovan. Please..." she whispered, searching his face for the reason why he stopped his furious pace.

She got her answer when he tugged down her neckline, revealing her simple black strapless bra. She blushed at the way he seemed to study her. But he couldn't see her, so she had no reason to be embarrassed. Still, she wanted to cover herself. Donovan didn't give her the chance. He reached behind her and unsnapped her bra with one hand.

'He's done that before.' Scarlet thought idly, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes.

His fingertips were cool against the overheated skin of her breast. He traced one areola and then the other, keeping away from her nipples. They tightened in the cool air and from his touch.

This was new to Scarlet. She hadn't realized how sensitive her breasts were, how much she'd need him to touch them. A soft keening sound escaped her throat when he cupped one, brushing his thumb across her taut nipple lightly. His hips started moving again. Oh, thank god, she was so close! That ache intensified, doubled with the new sensation. He grinned wolfishly and bent suddenly to capture her straining breast with his mouth.




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 03



Scarlet screamed as wave after wave of pleasure burst over her head. She felt Donovan shaking, heard his hoarse cry muffled against her breast. Her hands clutched at him and his arms tightened around her. A wet heat trickled down her leg and she realized that he had come as well.

Shame blossomed in her cheeks again once she'd caught her breath. She'd let him do that to her too easily. She didn't know what she was doing, and he knew it, and he used her desire against her. He shifted, so the thickness of him nudged her once more. She felt a tendril of desire awaken again. It was small, but still, it was there. Tears filled her eyes. How did he make her want him like that? Minutes after her release, she was ready for another go – why? It was too easy for him. *She* was too easy.

"Annabelle –"

"Put me down." She knew her voice shook, and he noticed but he didn't say anything. Her feet touched down and she straightened her gown. Her hair, which she had pinned before the ceremony, had come undone, and she simply brushed it back. 

She tried not to notice him adjusting himself, and she failed miserably. He didn't seem half as hard as he was moments ago, but from what little of him she could see from the corner of her eye before his pants were buttoned, he was impossibly big.

In some distant, dark corner of her mind, she wondered how the hell he expected to fit that in her. But, she knew, that wouldn't happen. He'd promised to let her go as soon as he figured out how. It couldn't possibly take very long. And until then, she'd make him keep his distance. There would be no more of this...whatever it was. She wouldn't let him have her again.

Donovan's mind was traveling a similar path in a completely different direction. Now that he'd had some of her, he knew he wouldn't be able to resist the rest. He would never rape his bride. But he wasn't letting her leave here with her virginity intact.

The thought of taking her completely had his sated penis twitching to life again, along with other, less carnal pieces of him. He didn't just want to fuck her. He *wanted* her. Forever.

Damn his wife's arousal, her softness, her beauty. Damn her sighs and moans and that goddamn hoarse scream of his name when she went over the edge that second time. And damn him for making that damn promise.

He wasn't going to let her go.

***

Donovan led his new wife through the dark hallways. She still had no idea where her room was in this huge house. She'd wanted to ask Abner to show her the way, but the man had disappeared into thin air, it seemed. Finally, Donovan had pulled her out of the dining room with a growl that he would take her.

Though, something was off about this trip to her bedroom. In the darkness, everything looked the same, but small pieces of furniture and decor she'd attempted to remember as sort of landmarks were missing.

"Where are we going?" Her voice was loud in the empty hallway. He didn't answer her. She considered stopping, but the bastard would probably just leave her alone in the dark. He'd done that before dinner; he led her to a bathroom so she could clean up the mess they'd made of her undergarments, and when she'd emerged, he was nowhere to be found. It took her nearly five minutes to find her way back to the dining room.

She didn't relish the idea of attempting that again. Already, she was hopelessly lost. This house had too many rooms and not enough light. So, she trudged along behind him reluctantly through the seemingly endless hall. It hadn't taken them this long the first time.

"Where are we going?" She chanced another query, and instead of replying, Donovan stopped and opened a door. It was on the wrong side of the hall. She stood in the doorway while he walked into the pitch black room without a word. "I'd like to go to my room now."

"This is your room, Annabelle." His disembodied voice floated through the dark room. "Come in."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"We will be sharing a room from now on. There will be no more locking me out. No more ignoring me. No more hiding."

"Why? You said –"

He emerged from the gloom of the room. "It's final, Annabelle. For as long as you are my wife, you and I will be sharing a bedroom, a bed."

"Like hell, we will!"

He glared at her. "You curse too much. I don't like it."

Before meeting this asshole, she'd hardly cursed once a day. Now, she couldn't seem to stop. Her husband apparently brought out the worst in her. "I don't care whether or not you like it. I want my own room."

"Get in here, Annabelle." His continued use of her full name rankled on her nerves, but she knew it was better than him using her middle name like everybody else did. His fingers wrapped around her thin wrist and tugged her forward into the darkness. The door clicked closed behind her, sealing them in the pitch black room. "Since this is our wedding night, I will forgive you for that insubordination."

Scarlet shivered. His voice sent chills up and down her spine. "How kind of you." She tried to sound sarcastic and brave, but she clearly felt the faint tremor that his promise of punishment caused.

"That doesn't mean, dear wife," He leaned over her. "That any more tonight will be let go. So I suggest you do as you are told. And the sarcasm needs to go, as well." She bit her tongue and felt behind her for the doorknob. The cold metal turned slightly in her grip, but the door didn't open. "It's locked, Annabelle."

"Why?"

"Because I locked it." His voice was matter-of-fact, and she resisted the urge to snap at him sarcastically.

"Why are we sharing a room?"

"Because I wanted to. We are married, husband and wife. Sharing a room is normal."

"Sharing a room isn't necessary, in our case. We are only going to be married for the smallest amount of time possible."

"Humor me. For the smallest amount of time possible." He stepped away and she knew arguing was pointless. She stayed where she was, though. She didn't know the layout of 'their' room and without the light on, she'd most likely trip over something. "I had Abner bring your bags. You may unpack them in the morning. We'll go to bed now."

"Like he –"

His large hand clapped over her mouth before she could finish. "Don't." His breath was warm against her ear. He waited until she stopped struggling against his unbreakable iron grip. "I am going to let you go now. Do not argue. Do not curse. Do not –"

"Fuck. You." She yanked his hand down, ignoring his orders completely.

He didn't say anything; only grabbed her arm and pulled her across the room. She screamed when he all but threw her on the bed. Flying and falling through the dark wasn't an experience she enjoyed. Why wouldn't the bastard turn on a light?

All her thoughts were silenced when he grasped her pretty wedding gown by the bodice and tore it right down the middle, all the way down to the hem. She'd removed her panties in the bathroom, not wanting to sit around in dirty or wet ones, so she was just in her bra. It provided absolutely no protection, and little covering. Even in the dark, with her blind husband, she felt embarrassingly naked.

"I warned you," He murmured, his voice incredibly soft. She shivered. There was still a danger there. She wished she could see him. "I have a feeling another spanking won't do any good tonight. I'll have to come up with more creative measures."

He stepped away and she heard him rummaging with drawers on the far side of the room. Scarlet slid off the bed as silently as she could, pausing every few seconds if the sounds he was making changed. Her feet hit the carpet and she quickly and silently moved away from the bed, in the opposite direction of him. She was almost certain she was heading for the door. It was locked, but she had her hair pins still. If she could elude him for just a few moments, she could pick the lock and make her escape. She prayed that whatever it was he was searching for would take a long time to find.

Her outstretched hand met the solid wood of the door and she paused. He was still moving far away from her. The room was cavernous, and she could use that to her advantage. He didn't know she was gone yet, and she could get out before he realized it. The doorknob jiggled very quietly when she worked a pin into the lock. She froze and held her breath. No change. Carefully, she continued, staying as quiet as she possibly could.

This lock was simple, and it only took her a few seconds of wiggling to trip the locking mechanism. She paused a moment, heard a different noise, though still from Donovan's direction, and eased the door open. Faded light flooded the room and she winced before remembering that he wouldn't notice. She opened it a bit wider.

"I don't think so, Annabelle." Donovan's voice was right by her ear. She shrieked and he reached in front of her to push the door closed. "I believe you'll recall, I told you my senses are better than most." Scarlet leaned her forehead against the cool wood. She'd been so close. "You must really want a punishment, my dear. I'll have to see you're not disappointed."

"Stay the f –" Again, he stopped her with a hand over her mouth. She didn't bother fighting when he pulled her back over to the bed.

"Now, lay down." His tone was pleasant, but that edge she knew very well was present. She obeyed silently. "Good girl. Stretch up your hands."

She was completely still as he tied her hands above her head with what felt like silk scarves. To her surprise, the ties were loose, so she wasn't stretched completely up. She wouldn't be able to move much, but at least she'd be somewhat comfortable. Donovan did the same to her legs, keeping them spread slightly. She blushed hotly. She felt so open.

"This won't hurt a bit," He said conversationally, trailing a hand down her side. 

She flinched away and he tutted at her. "None of that. Take your punishment, Annabelle. You remember: I did give you a chance."

"Fuck you." She muttered, so quietly it was almost silent.

Donovan heard though, and he frowned in the darkness. His wife would learn, but she was choosing the hard way. He picked up another scarf and held it to her face. She opened her mouth to speak again again, and quickly he tied the scarf around her head, thoroughly gagging her. She gasped and tried to twist out of his grip.

Done and ready, he sat down next to her. "Annabelle, I want you to listen to me. I don't want to punish you." An incredulous noise escaped the gag. "But, as my wife, you need to obey me. If I have to force you to remember, I will."

Scarlet trembled at the word 'force.' Exactly how did he plan on forcing her? He wouldn't...

"I'm not going to rape you." Donovan said as if reading her mind. She relaxed somewhat. "When I take you, it will be because we both want it."

'That's never going to happen.' Scarlet thought viciously.

"I'm going to start your punishment now." He stood and she heard clothes rustling in the dark as he stripped. Her heart raced. He'd just said he wouldn't force himself on her, hadn't he?

She jumped when a steady hand landed on her bare stomach. He didn't hit her, just touched her for a moment. His other hand tangled in her brown hair. What kind of punishment was he planning on inflicting? The hand on her belly slid behind her and down, till his strong fingers grasped her ass. She wiggled to escape, but while the scarves were loose, there was nowhere for her to go.

His hand squeezed and released her bottom rhythmically, and against everything in her, she almost enjoyed it. Another erogenous zone she had never considered. Her breath picked up when he used his other hand to unsnap her bra and toss the offending garment into the black morass that surrounded them.

She heard his breath, loud against the silence. The sound was, in its own way, sexy. He was breathing deep, just a bit faster than usual, but slower than he had in the study. He was on his way to being aroused.

So the sick bastard *did* get off on punishing her.

Unexpectedly, she felt fingers toy with her aching nipples. A soft whimper escaped her throat before she could contain it. She heard his breathless chuckle and closed her eyes. It made no difference, but she still felt calmer without the darkness glaring at her where his face should have been.

"Do you enjoy this, Annabelle?" He whispered, inches above her. She turned her face away. "I think you do. I think you want me to keep going...do more. You're soaking wet for me. And you want me to touch you somewhere else." The hand on her ass moved down until it was just brushing her slit. "Here."

Scarlet tried not to bear down on his hand. She tried to ignore the way just that soft touch made that need blossom so quickly, and how she needed more. He had an advantage over her, and he was abusing it unmercifully.

Donovan felt the tiny, reluctant movement of her hips as she warred with herself. For a moment, he increased the pressure, rubbed once, and then pulled his hand away. She bit a soft moan of denial in half. His sexy little wife was aroused for the third time that night, and he'd made her that way. His shaft throbbed at the thought of the silky wetness coating her tight hole.

He reached down again, swiped his finger against her, and raised his damp finger to his mouth. He hesitated before sucking the digit into his mouth. A groan escaped his chest as he licked her flavor away. All of his senses were amplified tenfold, and her taste on his tongue set fireworks off in his mind.

It was a mistake, though. Unable to stop himself, he bent and ran his tongue across the crease where her thigh met groin. She squeaked in surprise, and moaned when his tongue probed between her wet lips to get at the overflowing sweetness. He wanted – needed more. His tongue speared her again and again, her soft cries pushing him further. His cock hardened to the point of pain and he gripped it. His hand slid up and down against the heated skin, as he slurped, licked and nibbled at his delicious wife's core.

The noises she made became louder and faster as she hurtled closer to the edge. He heard her labored gasps, the single long indrawn breath as she just barely reached her ecstasy.

And he stopped.

She screamed against her gag as the flood halted and receded. She was right *there*. Her sex-crazed mind raced frantically as she wiggled and tugged at her bonds, trying to get closer to him so he could finish her off. Why did he stop?

Donovan could feel her confusion, need and fear as he leaned over her. His hand worked his shaft desultorily. He'd been close as well. Nowhere near as ready as she'd been. The ragged sobs wrenched from Annabelle's throat fueled his passion.

He licked his lips; her flavor lingered there. God, the taste of her. The scent. He'd hardly been able to pull himself away from the torrent he knew was coming.

But she needed to be punished. He'd summoned every ounce of his control to stop himself at the exact moment before she fell. And it had worked.

Scarlet's movements slowed as the angry heat slowly settled in the pit of her belly. What was he doing? She could hear his harsh breath, and movement...what was he doing, in the dark?

Donovan's hand moved faster as he imagined that he hadn't stopped. That he kept right on devouring her until she came with his name on her gagged lips. That her body shook and writhed at the end of her ties as the pleasure took her over. He could almost taste her ultimate sweetness on his tongue, hear her cries.

With a strangled groan, he came, directing his crème against her soft skin. He noticed her quiet whimper as the heated fluid hit her flesh. 

Panting softly, he collapsed beside her on the bed. She strained at her bonds, released pitiful pleading moans and mewls.

After a few moments, he rolled onto his side and touched her stomach. She flinched but pressed against his hand again. He felt his cooling semen splashed across her hot skin, and he rubbed it in slowly, massaging his scent onto her body. His fingertips followed the streams of it across her chest, lingering on her taught nipples, and then back down to the curls between her thighs. She moaned when his fingers combed through the hairs, spreading the cum that had hit her there. For one brief, wonderful moment, his finger rested directly on her clit, and she thrust her hips up for him.

He stopped again, pulled completely away, and tugged a blanket over both of them. Scarlet stared at the blackness in his direction incredulously. He couldn't possibly be stopping *now*!

Donovan grinned tightly at the protesting squeaks she made when it became apparent he wasn't going to touch her again. He rolled onto his side away from her. "Good night, Annabelle."



Beauty--Remastered Ch. 04



My dear readers, I'm SO sorry I haven't updated in...oh goodness, 2 months! Lots of happenings in my life, good and bad, but that's hardly an excuse. I'm working on chapter 5 of Beauty Remastered as hard as I possibly can, while attempting and reattempting to start Piper, which is Joey and Danny's story =) Wish me luck, my loves. I promise, Chapter 5 will be super exciting and wonderful and out soon! Cross my heart. For everybody who commented and voted on the earlier chapters, you are the best ever, and I adore all of you! And thank you for the encouragement, because it's what keeps me going at times. I'd love to hear what you think of Chapter 4...hint hint. 

-Almostluver

***

Scarlet awoke alone in a cold, dark, unfamiliar room. She reached down to pull the covers up from where they had been shoved down by her feet and realized that her hands were no longer bound. Donovan must have released her before he left the room. Memories raced toward her.

She glanced around, blushing. The heavy curtains were drawn, so the room was still too dark to really study, but she could just make out shadows of furniture in the gloom beyond the bed. There were no lights or candles, and any illumination would have to come from the fireplace once it was lit. What was it with her husband and darkness? She knew he lived in it, but that didn't mean she had to!

At the thought of her absent husband, she shuddered and drew the blanket up to her chin. Last night, the bastard had...she didn't want to think about what he'd done. But the thoughts came anyway.

Thoughts about how, hours after that one time, she'd finally drifted into a fitful, erotically dream-filled sleep -- dreams laced with touches and mouths, tongues and panting breaths -- only to have him wake her with his teeth and tongue teasing her breasts, while his fingers massaged her mound. Again, he'd brought her to the brink, this time let her teeter forever at the absolute edge before stopping to take care of his own needs. The third time, she had sobbed when he at last took his pleasure-giving hands and mouth away. By the time he came at her a fourth time, she was exhausted and too worked up to do more than lie there and accept him. He didn't even let her get close before he stopped and went back to his side of the bed. Perhaps he knew she wouldn't last long.

Scarlet's eyes filled at the memory of how the third time, she'd begged him incoherently through the gag, the promises she'd made to be good. To obey. To do anything and everything he wanted, if he would just let her come. He'd ignored her completely, silently working her up and up, knowing exactly when to stop.

Her tired, aroused body ached from all the memories. He'd been undeniably gentle with her, hadn't even penetrated her with a single long, tapered finger, but all the aches he left unfulfilled had expanded and meshed together and she *needed* to sate it.

Her blush intensified as her hand slid below the covers to hover above her warm, deprived core. She'd only done this once before, in all her eighteen years. And it hadn't been with a set, illicit agenda; she had simply explored, years ago. Now, though, she was going to actually *do* something.

For a moment, she faltered; but her entire body throbbed, as if insisting she continue. Scarlet slowly lowered her hand to slide along her lips. They were slick with her arousal. Her shaking index finger penetrated the damp folds and bumped across her clitoris. She yelped at the burst of pleasure that speared through her belly to join the other stored tendrils he had ignited the night before. 

She remembered him focusing his long, agile tongue there for ages, it seemed, the third time. She touched herself there again, biting her lip at the sensations. Her inexperienced touch was less earth shattering than Donovan's, but she could still bring herself to that release. She rubbed that small button gently, and then harder and faster when that wasn't enough. Her hips moved unconsciously, humping against her hand. 

Without even thinking about it, she raised her free hand to her bare breasts and pinched her tight nipples gently. A low moan slipped out as the dual feelings took her higher, closer to that release.

And for one glorious moment, she just barely reached it.

"Having fun?" A deep voice from the side of the bed asked suddenly.

Scarlet shrieked and pulled her hands away guiltily. "I-I didn't hear you come in."

He smirked, his teeth bright in the shadows. "I'm not surprised. You were otherwise occupied."

Her anger came back at his soft, sarcastic tone. She pulled the covers around her and scooted to the far side of the bed. God, he was so unfair! So frustrating. Why wouldn't he just let her finish? The sick sadistic ass.

"I just came to let you know that I've hired a seamstress to make you a new wardrobe, seeing as how most of your clothes were unfit. She will be here in two hours."

"I can't go into town to buy some? I'm sure it will be less expensive."

He turned and sauntered to the door. "No, I think not. Money is no object, Annabelle."

That confirmed her suspicion that he was keeping her here. Fear made her pulse race. She was likely to never see anybody other than her husband and the butler again! This wasn't her home; it was a prison.

Her arousal had cooled to a painful almost nothing. She still needed that damn release, but after his interruption, there was no chance in hell she'd try again. For all she knew, Donovan was probably lurking in the hallway outside, just waiting for her to begin again. Was this a part of his 'punishment'? Not letting her come unless he wanted her to? Did the arrogant bastard honestly think he could control her body like that?

Unfortunately, Scarlet held back a sob and rolled to bury her face in the pillow, he *could*.

***

Dominic paced his room at the top of the house, raking his long fingers through his hair repeatedly. Thoughts of Annabelle whirled through his mind. The feel of her soft skin beneath his fingertips. The way her hair smelled -- subtle and spicy, like nutmeg. The soft moans and cries when he licked a path up her stomach. The sweet taste of her skin as he teased at her breasts and down to...

"Fuck!" Donovan collapsed into an armchair in front of the unlit fireplace. Last night had been torture. He wanted so badly to let her go over that edge, to let her tumble with a scream. Maybe her voice would have gone hoarse while she screamed, like it did in the study. Maybe she would have even screamed his name. Just the thought of his name on her luscious bruised lips was enough to turn him to stone.

He palmed his hardening member, groaning with frustration. He'd already gotten himself off twice today -- once when he woke up with Annabelle sleeping fitfully beside him, and not ten minutes ago after he'd accidentally interrupted her pleasuring himself. Added to the three times yesterday, he was well on his way to setting a week's record. Before that, though, he might actually wear himself out. Even if he did, he knew he'd still want her.

He reached to the small table beside his chair and picked up a book. Opening it, his fingers danced across the Braille, effortlessly reading page after page, but he paid no attention to the words his sensitive hands found. His mind instead brought back the way his fingertips had read her body, and coaxed those damnable sounds from her.

Damn her. He hadn't expected to be this attracted to his wife, even after all that time in the past. In all honesty, he hadn't even expected to go as far with her as he did. Their marriage would have been just that, with no feelings or intimacy involved. But after that first kiss...all hell had broken loose.

His body tightened even more when he remembered her warm, frantic rubbing against his leg. He was harder now, after everything they'd done, than he had ever been in his life. He cursed himself for not simply taking her in the study, when he had the chance -- when his hard body was crushed between her dewy thighs, when he felt her wet heat surging against his. He decision not to take her against the wall seemed stupid now. And the promise he'd made would be almost impossible to keep.

Surging to his feet, he began pacing again, refusing to allow his hands anywhere near his pulsing erection. This was ridiculous! He, as a husband, had a right to her body. But now that she knew he couldn't have it without her consent, that right was obsolete. A quiet knock on the closed door pulled him from his angry thoughts and he pulled it open quickly.

Abner studied his master. His dark, unseeing eyes were angry and pained, his mouth set in a familiar furious way. The long, lean body was taught with frustration. The poor boy.

"What is it?" Donovan demanded.

"Your wife requested a walk in the grounds, sir."

"No."

"But, sir," Abner stepped forward. "It isn't right to keep your wife a prisoner in this house."

"It makes no difference whether she's in the house or out, Abner. She is my wife and when I say she stays inside, she stays inside." Donovan growled, flinging himself down into the chair again.

"Sir, if I may --"

"You may not."

Abner did anyway. "You'll never win her if you insist on treating her this way, sir."

"I don't have to 'win' her. You see, that's the funny thing about marriage. She belongs to me."

"Her body, yes. But not her heart."

Donovan scowled and turned away. Even her body wasn't truly his, thanks to that damn promise. "And what would I do with her heart?" Abner didn't answer, and the door clicked shut quietly. Donovan slumped further into the chair, cursing angrily to himself. Abner knew too much. For a few brief moments, he sat still in the chair, and then he jumped to his feet and pulled open the door again. The hall was silent. "Stay with her out there."

"Very good, sir." Abner replied cheerily as the door slammed shut again.

***

"Thank you, Abner," Scarlet gave him a small smile as they slowly circled the huge garden behind the house.

The sky was overcast and looked ready to let loose at any moment, but the sun cut through the clouds every so often and lit up the flowery wonderland that was her new home. She hadn't seen any of the grounds in the short time she'd been here, and now she was almost thinking that maybe staying here -- for the smallest amount of time possible -- wouldn't be so horrible if she got to go out to be in this wonderful space. She hardly even remembered her husband here.

"It's my pleasure, milady," Abner held out his arm like a gentleman and she took it with a soft giggle. His master was a lucky man, that he got this lovely young woman to 'have and to hold.' And from the looks of things last night, they'd be doing a *lot* of holding.

"How long have you been with...him?" She paused when it came time to say *his* name. A delicious warmth shuddered through her body at the mere thought of her horribly attractive husband. How could he affect her so easily, make her want him with everything in her, while she despised him at the same time?

"Oh, I've been with Lord Alford's family before he was born. I practically raised the boy." Alford proclaimed proudly, drawing Scarlet's attention back to the present.

'You could've done a better job!' She thought to herself morosely, turning her face away. Her face had always been very readable, and she didn't want him to see what she was thinking. She didn't even want to know what she was thinking. "This is a lovely garden."

"Thank you, milady! I did most of it. Before the old Lord Alford passed, the lawns were a mess, the garden was overgrown with weeds and the like. When the new Lord Alford took over, he gave me free rein to do whatever I liked. And I liked roses."

"I do too," She leaned over to examine a particularly beautiful specimen. The many petals of the small buds were a pale cream color, and the tips seemed dipped in a deep, blood red paint. "This one is..."

"That's my favorite. Rosa Helena, my own little experiment. I named it after my wife, Helen." Reaching into the bush, he carefully plucked one flower. After vigilantly breaking off every single little thorn, he tucked it behind her ear. "You look like her, you know. Same pale skin and scarlet lips." Abner studied at his young new mistress. "Just like the day I met her."

"What happened to her?"

"She died. Ten years ago." He resumed their walk. "Oh, don't be so downcast about it. It was her time -- she was sick for a long time. But we had our love story and lived it like it deserved. And when it came time to say goodbye, we couldn't regret a single moment of it."

"Will you tell me about it sometime?"

"Of course. You could learn a thing or two about love. The real, true kind. I'll tell you this, milady, when you love someone, all that matters is the seconds you're together. And you feel different -- new, almost. Things you've never felt before race through your body like darts. And when it's love at first sight --"

"I don't believe in love at first sight." Scarlet interrupted. She was flustered by his words, as if he knew exactly what was going on inside her every time she saw her husband.

Abner's eyes twinkled as he turned toward the house. "Yes, milady. I suppose we had better go in. I have to work on dinner."

Scarlet stared sadly up at the house. She wasn't ready to go back into that awful darkness. Her breath caught when she noticed a tall figure looming in one of the windows at the top of the house. She could almost feel that dark, searing gaze on her. Heat blossomed in her cheeks and she quickly followed Abner inside, out of *his* blind sight.

***

Scarlet had no choice but to eat with Donovan. He cornered her in the hall, emerging like a ghost from the shadows as she attempted to find her way back to her -- their -- room. When she refused to follow him, he lifted her over his broad shoulders and carried her, kicking and screaming, into the dining room. Their meal was quiet and tense while she fumed and he let her.

Scarlet shifted in her chair constantly, aware that her groom's eyes were on her. He couldn't see her, but she still felt that somber gaze. Her own eyes drifted around the room, studiously ignoring the man across the table. Like almost every single room in this big house, the room they were eating in was dark and shadowed. Twin candelabras on either sides of the long table provided only minute illumination, and she knew it was probably because of her. Abner didn't serve them throughout the meal -- he brought out their plates at the beginning and let them eat alone together.

"Did you enjoy your walk today?" Donovan spoke suddenly, making Scarlet jump.

"Yes, thank you."

He waited for her to continue, but she didn't say another word. "I see Abner has given you one of his Helenas."

Her head snapped up and around to his, her hand flying to the rose she had left tucked in her hair. How did he know? "I --"

"They have a very distinct scent. Like apples." *Apples and nutmeg -- a tempting mix.* "Would you like more wine?" He poured it before she could reply. She watched his fluid grace, shocked into silence, while he managed to fill her cup perfectly, without spilling a single drop. He smirked knowingly. "My senses are --"

"Better than most," she finished for him, scowling at the glass he offered. She took it, but didn't drink any. "So I've heard."

His smirk disappeared into that familiar frown. "What is your problem, Annabelle?"

"Would you like me to bring out the whole long list or just the ones that pertain directly to you?" She snapped back.

"I know you have problems with being my wife. I don't particularly like being your husband--"

"Oh, I'd say you have the husband part down just fine, if last night was anything to go by!" Scarlet heard the words escaping her mouth, but she knew *she* wasn't saying them! Her face paled and she groped blindly for her glass.

He was quiet for a moment, before he leaned toward her. "Not as well as I'd like. As you would like, I'm sure, Annabelle."

His soft growl sent chills up and down her spine and her hand shook as she reached for her fork again. For several minutes, she stared sightlessly at her full plate. Her appetite had deserted her with his last comment. "I think I'd like to go to bed."

"How coincidental, I was thinking the same thing." His smirk made that heat that had been stewing in her belly since last night flare and she glanced down and away from him again.

She clarified quietly. "I'm tired."

"Not as tired as you could be."

"Please..."

He stood and walked around the table. She shrank back in her chair when he leaned over her. His hand slid behind her head, tilting her face up. "Please what?"

"I want you to make me come." She whispered, losing herself in his dark gaze.

The words felt dirty and foreign and...*right* as they slipped from her dry mouth. She was so aroused, so needy. She didn't care what he did, as long as he let her come. His other hand pulled leisurely at the hem of her dress, sliding it up. Goosebumps erupted across her skin when his fingers lightly trailed across the freshly bared skin. Her thighs parted unconsciously as his burning touch neared her core.

"Please let me come. Please."

"What was that?" He asked. He sounded so far away.

Scarlet's head jerked up, and she stared at the man sitting across the table. Her heart stopped. She was daydreaming? "W-what?"

"You said 'please.' What do you want, Annabelle?" His voice was missing that sexy rasp she had imagined. It didn't matter; he was still arousing without it.

"I'd like to go to sleep. I'm tired." What if she had said those words she was thinking? Would he take her up on them? Probably.

"Of course." He stood and walked around to her chair. Scarlet couldn't resist scooting away from him, like she had in her daydream. Even when he wasn't trying to seduce her, he was sexy. "Let's go."

He offered her his arm and she stared at it for a moment, too long. He scowled and quickly left the room. Scarlet had to run to catch him before he went off along one of the many dark hallways.

Donovan didn't speak to her once they entered their room, and Scarlet watched him pass through to a huge closet she'd discovered that morning. The large bed drew her gaze and she swallowed. After that sizzling daydream, she had no intention of spending another hopeless night in his bed.

Donovan entered the room again. He immediately knew that Scarlet had gone. With a sigh, he walked slowly to the door. He had memorized his room—his house; he knew where every single thing he owned was. Except his new wife.

He could smell her faint scent lingering in the air and he followed it. She smelled...warm. His mouth almost watered. He felt like an animal, stalking her by her unique smell. But it was the only way he could find her. The thought of it was almost arousing, even.

He passed many doors; he could feel them as he went by. Seven closed doors. The eighth was open, only slightly. He entered silently. The room was freezing. Why had she left his warm room for this one? "Are you ready for bed, Annabelle?"

Scarlet stared at him, embarrassed that she was almost completely naked, wearing only her underpants, but realized that he couldn't see her. Still, she clasped her long nightgown to shield herself. How did he find her? She had gone quietly while he was changing.

She took in what he was wearing—not wearing: meaning his shirt. Black pants covered the lower part of his body, and the upper half was bare. She stared at his naked chest. It was broad and muscled and covered in curly, black hair. She wanted to touch him, caress his chest, to test the softness of the hair that spread over his chest and thinned and meandered down in a line to disappear into his pants. She blushed at her thoughts.




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 04



Donovan felt her discomfort, and he puzzled over the cause. "Is this where we'll be sleeping now?"

Scarlet bristled. "*I'll* be sleeping here. *You* may return to your own room."

He walked to the bed. This room was mostly bare also—most of the rooms were. He didn't feel the need for fancy decorations when he couldn't see them, and when nobody else would. He did allow mirrors in various rooms for when people did visit, but those visits were few. Donovan turned to Scarlet. "I will sleep with you."

Scarlet turned scarlet. "No, you won't." She hurried toward the door, hoping to escape to another room. But he was on her almost instantly. 

His warm, half-naked body was crushed against hers and she remembered with horror exactly how undressed she was. He was only against her for mere seconds, but she still felt him -- all of him - before he jerked away. Scarlet stared up at him and was extremely surprised to see his face was almost as red as hers. His head was turned away, as if to save her modesty.

"Get dressed," he ordered quietly.

Normally, Scarlet would've ignored or argued a command; but in this situation, she just couldn't. She picked up the fallen gown and tugged it over her head as fast as she possibly could. He was his usual calm self when she was done. "Now, come lay down."

"I'd rather not."

"Please."

"No."

Donovan sighed and sat on the edge of the bed. He lifted his face in her direction. "I told you, I will not touch you. Unless you want me to."

"I'll never want you to touch me." She couldn't stop the hateful words from escaping her mouth. 

But she meant them...sort of.

Donovan didn't say anything for a few moments; but when he finally did, he nodded and lay back on the pillows. "Agreed. Now, come lie down. You must be tired."

She was, but she was also scared of being so close to him, what with the reactions she' been having in his presence. She sat gingerly on the edge farthest away from him. He reached out and took her hand. Scarlet tried to pull away. "I thought you said you wouldn't touch me."

"I will not touch you the way a husband would." He tugged her closer and settled her beside him, not touching, but close enough to feel each others' heat. "We will not make love until you ask."

She blushed at the thought of asking. "That—"

"I know. It will never happen." There was a smile behind his voice as he closed his eyes. Scarlet stared. He looked so...beautiful when he was relaxed like this. His dark hair flopped over his eyes and she barely resisted the urge to brush it away. The corners of his lips suddenly quirked up and she got the paralyzing feeling that he knew what she was thinking. "Good night, wife."

"My *name* is *Scarle*t." Forgetting herself, she basically gave him permission to call her by her nickname.

She rolled onto her side away from him, missing his heat instantly in the cold room. He didn't reply and when she looked over her shoulder, he was breathing deeply. He was asleep. Scarlet groaned and flopped onto her back. She wasn't comfortable, and then she was. Lying next to her 'husband' was the most comfortable thing she'd ever done—she had always been more content beside someone else. But her mind was reeling. She listened to his breath and closed her eyes to match her breaths to his.

***

"Scarlet!" Someone called her and she fought the voice out of her head. "God! Yes, Scarlet!"

She opened her eyes and sat up quickly as she realized where she was. With Donovan, in his house. She feared that Donovan was in trouble, that he had maybe fallen and needed help. She was half out of bed, and had already turned on the bedside lamp when she noticed Donovan was writhing on the bed next to her. She worried he was having a bad dream. Scarlet reached out to wake him when he moved again and called out her name. His hips started pumping gently up and down, and it took her several moments to realize what was happening. 

His moaning and movements made her cheeks burn. She knew next to nothing about lovemaking, but she knew what this was. He was having a dream...an *erotic* dream...about *her*. Her nickname escaped his lips again and again, in time to the thrusts of his hips, and she pulled further away, sat with her knees drawn up to her chest and watched him with embarrassed fascination. 

She shifted and felt a warm wetness between her legs. Heat mushroomed in her stomach. It thrilled and excited her that he obviously found her so...arousing. She wondered what was happening behind his closed lids.

"Oh, fuck!" Donovan's deep voice rumbled. His chest was heaving, and his breathing reminded her of her horse after a long gallop. He called her name one more time while his hips thrust up as high as they could, his virile body all but leaving the bed altogether. A darker wet spot spread across his pants and he groaned, sounding almost pained. "Ah, Scarlet!"

As his hips returned to the bed, Scarlet realized with intense shock that her breaths were almost as hard as his, though quieter. Her nipples tightened under her gown and she couldn't stop the moan of arousal as she shifted, making the cotton nightgown slide across them.

Donovan sat up suddenly. Scarlet held her breath. He stared sightlessly out into the room and breathed hard. Scarlet didn't know what to do. Should she pretend to be asleep? No—he'd feel her lie down. She could wait until he went back to sleep. When she couldn't hold her breath anymore, she released it as quietly as she could, but he still froze when she did it.

"S-Scarlet?" He turned to her and stretched out his arm. His fingers touched her arm and slid up to her face. "Wh—"

She hesitated. But she knew he knew she was up. "Who else would it be? Do you often have women in your bed?"

"No..." For a second, she thought he might smile, but then he paled and then blushed. "How long..."

"A...a while."

"You saw me...that?"

She nodded but remembered that he couldn't see her do it. "Y-yes."

"Oh, shit!" he buried his head in his hands. "I'm sorry.

Before she could say anything, he was out of bed and halfway across the room. Scarlet found herself scooting after him, her heart pounding, hoping he wouldn't really go. "Wh—wait. Where are you going?"

"Goodnight, Annabelle." The heavy door closed behind him with a decisive thud.

***

*What was I thinking—sleeping with her?* Donovan paced in his study. He was too wound up to go back to bed, even in his own room, though he had stopped there to change his soiled pants. He was also incredibly aroused. Despite his cataclysmic release in his sleep, he was still hard as a rock. For some reason, having her watching him while he was dreaming of taking her was the single most erotic thing he'd ever thought of. He remembered the dream: her riding him, hard and fast, making passionate love to his cock while her lips made love to his. He pulsed and throbbed. Donovan groaned and slumped into a chair.

He had promised he wouldn't touch her until she was ready. In fact, he'd promised it several times. It would be torture sharing a home with her, let alone a room. But what could he do? He wouldn't go back to the room, and he would avoid her at all costs.

It took him two hours to calm down enough to go to bed. He didn't mean to go to the room she was in, but somehow he ended up at the side of her bed, gazing sightlessly down at her sleeping form. He wished he could see her, see if the cute little girl had grown up into the gorgeous woman he imagined she was. He knew from the feel of her body that she'd developed curves, and he wondered if she lost that scared, baby-faced look. With her perfect hourglass figure, a too youthful face would seem a mistake. Maybe her freckles, only just barely noticed when he passed close by her all those years ago, had faded, leaving her creamy skin unblemished. He actually liked her freckles, though. They kept her from being ordinarily model-beautiful.

Against his wishes, he sat down beside her warm body. His hands ghosted over her body, which was covered with the heavy blanket. He couldn't feel much through it, so he moved up to her face. Her skin was cool. As his fingertips caressed her lips, her mouth opened, wafting hot air over his hand. She sighed and licked her lips, the tip of her tongue flickering over his fingers. Donovan bit back a moan.

Scarlet inched closer to his warmth unconsciously. He was frozen as she curled against him, wrapping her arms around his torso and tugging so he toppled over her. He caught himself, just short of crushing her. She wouldn't release him, only squeezed tighter when he tried to escape her arms, so he wiggled down to a more comfortable hold, where he could pull her into his arms. She fit perfectly, with her head tucked comfortably beneath his chin, and her warm breaths across his bare skin igniting a trail of goosebumps.

Donovan was in hell. Her warm skin seemed to burn him through her nightgown, while her spiced scent embraced him as tightly as her arms did. She moaned softly in her sleep and snuggled closer; the quiet sleeping noises she made were adorably sensual. She shifted in her sleep and her little hand feathered over his hip and groin while her leg slid between his. Her fingers flexed, gripping his solid shaft briefly. He cursed quietly and forced himself to not thrust into her hand. She wasn't even awake and she was about to kill him in the most pleasurable of ways.

He tried rolling her off of him, but it was hard to do with one arm, and she kept wriggling back to her first position. Finally, he gave up and settled beside her again. Scarlet slid higher up, unconsciously relaxing into his hold and cooing quietly in contentment. He smiled when she wrapped her arms around his neck. His smiled died when she spoke, her voice sweet and sleepy.

"Love you, Joey."



Beauty--Remastered Ch. 05



*Dear loves, I'm very sorry I haven't updated in forever. =( I hope this next chapter helps in earning your forgiveness. I'm having trouble writing everything lately, just missing that spark. But, I'll work on Chapter 6 as well as I can, and try to get it to you asap. Kisses, Almostluver*

Halfway through the night, Scarlet awoke, tangled in Donovan's arms. Her head was resting against his warm, bare chest, his heart beating steadily in her ear. One strong arm was slung around her waist; the other was drifting unconsciously over the skin of her thigh, which was hitched up around his hip.

In the darkness, and asleep, he looked young, soft...beautiful. So different from everything he was in the light of day. Beautiful, yes. Soft...not in the least. A part of her lusted after his hardness, she could admit to herself. But she also wanted to feel his softness directed at her on purpose.

She dozed off again after staring at him for several minutes. Before her eyes drifted closed, she briefly wondered about their morning after. His dream had embarrassed both of them; she hadn't expected him to come back to her bed. Waking up with him there had been a shock, but a pleasurable one. Waking up with him a second time, wouldn't be quite as nice.

She needn't have worried.

The next time she opened her eyes, her bed was empty, with only his faint scent giving away that he'd ever been there.

The next three weeks passed the same way; they would see each other for meals, while the rest of her time was spent with Abner or exploring the grounds -- when the despicable man she was married to gave her leave to do so -- and his was spent in areas of the house he'd forbidden her to venture into. She could probably count the number of words they shared each day on two hands, if that; and that was perfectly alright with her. Their nights began in different rooms...but she always woke up to find him beside her in the middle of the night, and gone again in the morning.

One night, he didn't come at all, and she tossed and turned the whole night.

"Wife --"

"Scar- Annabelle," She corrected him crossly, glaring across the table. He had been calling her that -- not by her name -- since the night of his dream, and she didn't like it one bit.

He frowned, but continued. "Tomorrow, I will be leaving, on business, for a couple days. While I am gone, the same rules still apply. No visitors. You will stay in the house -- Abner has been instructed that your afternoon walks will be postponed until I return, and he knows better than to go against me. Above all, stay out of my rooms."

She flushed guiltily. A few days ago, she had 'accidentally' wandered into his part of the house, and he'd discovered her trying to trip the lock in one of the doors with a hair pin. She had been relieved when all he'd done was lock her in her room for the rest of the night; she'd expected a sound spanking, at least. Then again, that had been the night he didn't come...but how would he know she couldn't sleep without him beside her?

"Do I make myself clear?" His soft growl broke into her thoughts, turned them right around to those annoyingly aroused thoughts she got whenever he spoke to her in that tone -- whenever he spoke, period.

"What is your business?" She asked to distract herself.

He frowned and continued eating. Obviously, he wasn't open to talk about his business. She didn't think he actually had one -- he certainly didn't need it. From what she gathered, his father had died a multibillionaire, leaving every penny and zero debts to his son. Work, obviously, was just an amusement for him.

Then again, she couldn't see Donovan actually performing any sort of task, and not just because of his blindness. He just wasn't a working-type of person, and she knew those types very well. She'd been one, refusing to live solely off her parent's shaky wealth. Donovan Alford had probably never worked a second in his life.

Stocks, she decided, studying him. He has hundreds, thousands, or even millions of stocks, and all his 'business trip' is, is a meeting with his handlers, or brokers, or whatever they're called.

"I asked you a question, Annabelle."

"W-what?"

"I said: do I make myself clear? Don't make me repeat myself again." His lush lips pressed together into a frown, and she looked down and away immediately. It ought to have been illegal, his ridiculous amount of sex appeal. It wasn't fair on her poor hormones.

"Yes, sir." She whispered. He didn't reply, and when she finally chanced a peek at him, his face was quizzical as he 'studied' her. She knew that look very well...she'd seen it on his face almost every time they were together. She puzzled him.

Donovan sighed quietly and picked up is fork. His young wife was a puzzle. She was snappish and a brat to him most of the time, and that he could deal with and understand. But, it was when she got quiet and scared-like, like this, that he was lost. He wished he could see her face, so he'd at least have a clue what was on her mind. He had a feeling his wife's face was very readable.

***

The day after Donovan left, Scarlet woke early -- though, 'woke' is hardly the right word used to describe rolling out of bed before dawn after a very long, sleepless night. She dressed quietly and went downstairs. Abner was puttering away in the kitchen already. She wandered around the bottom floor, aimlessly entering and exiting rooms and losing herself in the long, twisted hallways. She'd become almost familiar with the halls in the almost month that she'd been here, only getting mixed up every so often. 

"Milady," Abner popped out of nowhere, startling her as she exited a room towards the back of the house. "Breakfast is ready."

"Thanks, Abner," She headed off to the dining room quickly, momentarily forgetting S that Donovan wasn't waiting for her there. Her pace slowed as soon as she remembered, and she entered the cold, empty room somberly.

Abner served her silently, and she thanked him quietly, as usual. Breakfast had never seemed so long. They usually ate silently, anyway, but it was different with his obvious absence. She looked up at his chair constantly, but he wasn't there. She missed the way he cleared his throat quietly, every so often, as if preparing to say something to her. She missed the way his fingers sounded as they slid across the heavy books he usually brought to the table. She even (almost) missed the way he gave her the day's orders.

Plain and simple, Scarlet missed Donovan.

The rest of day one was spent wandering the giant house, losing and finding herself in the hallways. She longed to go outside for some fresh air and exercise; but Abner had locked all of the doors, knowing full well that she'd try to disobey the Master's orders. That didn't stop her from testing every outer door she came to, and every window low enough that she wouldn't hurt herself getting out of it. The butler had thought of that as well -- even the windows on the very top floor were fastened securely.

Scarlet missed Joey, and her horse. By four p.m. she'd been through every unlocked room, top to bottom, and she was beginning to get cabin fever. She'd even tried to jimmy one of Donovan's special doors open with her hair pins. The damn lock was having none of that.

Flopping on her bed, she sighed and stared moodily at the ceiling. Her husband's little rules made life dull. She was rarely on the computer, or phone or needed anything electronic at home; but the absence of those things, and her inability to simply use them when she wanted was too obvious.

The rules that pissed her off the most were "no going outside" and "no visitors." If she were at home, she'd have had Joey and Danny over in a minute, and they would've spent hours upon hours fooling around outdoors. Her sweet gelding, Cupid, probably missed her; she'd sent her baby to Joey's, so he could take care of him until Donovan allowed her to bring him to their home. Joey knew exactly how she wanted her horse treated, and he wouldn't shirk, just because she wasn't there, and he wouldn't spoil Cupid, 'cause he knew there'd be hell to pay when Scarlet found out.

For the first time in days, Scarlet remembered her cell phone. There were a shockingly few amount of outlets in the house, and she had to be careful not to leave it charging somewhere Abner or Donovan would find it, so she rarely used it, and kept it powered off.

The last time she'd called Joey, Donovan had walked into the room just as she was preparing to say goodbye. He had 'looked' at her curiously, but he hadn't said anything, so she quietly ended the call without saying another word, and had left the room before switching the phone off. She kept it hidden in the lining of her suitcase, which was shoved in the back of a closet in an empty room.

Now, she hurried to that room, several doors down from hers. She'd stuck a tiny piece of yellow cloth in the edge of the door, just so she would know which room it was. She had dozens of other little clues around the house, and Abner left them alone, knowing how confusing the large house could be to an outsider.

The door closed behind her with a quiet click and she shivered in the cool room. There was always a nasty chill in this house, no matter where she went. Even the rooms they actually lived and went in were cold, though not nearly as cold as the rooms that remained closed for most of the time. Scarlet quickly went to the closet and pulled her suitcase from the back. Digging around in a hole she'd torn in the lining, her fingers swiftly found her cell. She climbed into the bed and crawled under the covers, pulling the blanket over her head in an attempt to keep out the cold.

Her phone warbled happily as she turned it on. She'd never been so glad to see a bright, almost cheesy electric light in her life. She had twelve missed calls, all from Joey. She sighed and played through every single one of his messages. They were all the same, mostly, slowly getting more and more frantic. The last one, sent yesterday, demanded that she call him within the next twenty-four hours, or he would be mounting a full-scale rescue mission, her beastly husband be damned. Scarlet laughed at his dramatics, and dialed his number.

"Scary! You're alive!" was the first thing her panicky best friend screamed into her ear. She almost cried, finally hearing his voice after nearly two weeks without it. "Are you okay? He hasn't hurt you, has he? Any developments from the last time we talked? Do you want me and Danny to come get you? We can be there within the hour." Scarlet rolled her eyes at that. Her new home was nearly four hours away from Joey's. But, given Danny's driving, they probably *could* be there in under an hour. "Scary! Answer me!"

"Joey, I'm fine."

"Thank god!" He was still yelling and she half-wondered if it was a good idea to call him, after all. "When I didn't hear from you for so long, I got worried. I'm sorry."

"It's alright."

"So," he sounded calmer. "I take it your hubby's not around?"

"No, he's gone, on business. Otherwise, I probably wouldn't be able to call you. Gosh, I've missed you guys."

"We've missed you too, Scary. I hate not being able to talk to you whenever, or see you...Cupid misses you too, by the way."

He went on about her horse, but she was only half listening. A sudden anger had filled her, at the thought that her husband had taken her away from her home, her family -- depleted though it was -- and friends, and had given her rules and regulations on how she was to live her life; and she had to sneak to hear from anybody other than him and their butler. All the desire and curiosity and god knows what else that she'd felt toward him died immediately.

"Scarlet, you're not listening." Joey said quietly. "What's wrong?"

"Who the hell does he think he is?" She demanded with a shaking voice that barely hid her rage. "I'm a grown woman. I should be able to see whoever I want, when I want. Especially my best friend! And he has me locked inside while he's away on 'business'. I'm not even allowed to go outside with Abner! I miss my home, and my mom, and you and Danny and my horse, and he won't let me have anything!"

"Scarlet..." Joey sighed, and he sounded so sad, Scarlet immediately stopped her rant. "Since he's away, would you like me to come get you? Danny's at work, so it'll take a little longer for me to get there, but just say the word, and I'll come up and sneak you away. There's got to be a way to get you out of that house without the butler noticing."

"Oh, Joey, no. I can't. You know why..." She rubbed her face for a moment tiredly. "Have you seen my mom?"

"Yeah, Danny and I went to visit her in the hospital the other day..."

"And?" She prompted when he trailed off and didn't continue.

"She doesn't look good, Scarlet. I've never seen your mom look so...sick. I'm sorry."

Scarlet closed her eyes and breathed deep a few times. She could feel the tears prickling behind her eyelids, but she refused to let them fall. She still hadn't completely forgiven her mother for forcing her into this, though she was beginning to understand why she'd done it.

"Do you think I'll ever see her again, Joey?"

"I don't know...the doctors haven't given her a lot of time. A month, maybe more."

"Shit." She bit her tongue, half expecting her husband's large hand to come stinging down on her backside. 'He's trained me well,' she thought distantly; every time she swore, when they weren't close enough to anything he could use as a real punishment, he'd pull her over his knee and give her a dozen good, hard swats. She'd stopped swearing completely after the third day. "Okay, keep me updated. If she gets worse, I want to know, Joey. I need to see her before..." her throat locked up. "You know?"

"Yeah, I know. I'll let you know every time I visit her. And if she does get worse, I'll come up there and bring you back myself."

"Yeah..." Scarlet rolled onto her stomach. "It's so different, Joey. It's different than I thought."

"What do you mean?"

"He's...different. I don't know. We don't talk. I only see him twice a day. And I don't mind, but...I..."

Joseph gasped and she groaned, knowing exactly what he was going to say. "You like him!"

She almost considered denying it, but that would be pointless. Besides, it was only 'like'. Very mild, almost nonexistent 'like.' Like...she hardly felt it, half the time, past the clear hatred...it was kind of like looking through the window of a hot room at snow outside; it was foggy and blurred. "Probably. But, I also hate him, and that's not going to change. He's handsome and he knows how to work me up and get on my nerves and how to make me want him --" She stopped. That last bit wasn't supposed to come out. She'd just continued talking, without thinking. Joey gasped again. "It's just lust. I'm in very mild lust with him."

"That's how I started with Danny."

"Liar. You were smitten the second we walked into that diner."

"Okay, so maybe I don't know what being in lust is. But, I think you might be close to lov--" Scarlet sat straight up and scowled at her phone in disgust. "Shut up."

"Sorry. It's just --"

Scarlet missed the rest of what Joey was going on about, because Abner opened the door and stuck his head in. She dropped the phone and pulled the blanket over it. "Hi, Abner."

"I just came to let you know that dinner is ready." He smiled kindly at her, and she knew he knew.

"Thanks." She said a quick goodbye to Joey, and climbed off the big bed. Taking Abner's arm, she let him lead her from the room and down the hallway. "You're not going to tell him, are you, Abner?"

"I should. You do know the rules, milady."

"And you know they're ridiculous. I can't be here, day after day, by myself! I at least need to talk to my best friend."

"I understand. But, rules are rules."

"Please."

"I won't tell. But, I think you should. If you come clean on your own, maybe he'll come around."

Scarlet laughed at the thought of Lord Alford 'coming around' to anything.

***

Scarlet called Joey and Danny every day that Donovan was gone. She didn't have to hide in the cold room when it was just her and Abner in the house, and she started sitting in the parlour with a fire lit. Abner even started serving her meals in there, seeing how happy hearing from her friends made her. Everything seemed easier when Donovan was gone.

On the fifth day, Joey couldn't talk for very long. There had been an accident at the Diner, and he and Danny needed to get there as soon as possible. He'd offered to stay on the phone during the drive, but he'd been distracted after five minutes, so she told him to call her when everything was settled.

For a while, she just sat in the parlour, feeling the heat from the fireplace and relaxing. That got old fast, though. She decided to get some exercise and tour the house yet again, maybe see if there was something interesting she'd missed. Dinner was hours away, and until then, she'd have absolutely nothing to occupy her time.

Abner passed her in the halls as he went out to tend his roses. For the hundredth time, it seemed, he ignored her request that she go with him. 'Rules were rules.' She stood reluctantly by the door until she heard the lock click, and she knew she was very alone in that big house.

And so Scarlet set out to re-explore her home. She entered every door she came to in the bottom floor, wandered through the extra-large kitchen and empty sitting rooms and libraries. There were three of the latter, in this house; each filled with more books than she could've ever imagined. And, from what she could tell, no repeats, unless they were in foreign languages. She'd read three already, and had another waiting for her in her bedroom.

Done with the first floor, she mounted the stairs to the second floor. There were half a dozen bedrooms on this floor, her own included. The many other rooms were separate bathrooms, more sitting rooms, and closets. All of them, minus the ones she regularly entered, empty and freezing cold. She stopped in her room to get a sweater, to ward off the chill of the house. After considering it, she hunted down a candelabra and lit the candles to guide her way.

The third floor was basically the same as the second; but had more bedrooms and was even colder. Many of the rooms weren't even furnished. There were only thick, heavy curtains in the windows, the dusty floors wide open. Her feet left marks in the thick film of the floor, revealing which rooms she had entered.

The fourth floor was even emptier; every room was stripped bare of even carpets and wallpaper. Half of the rooms were locked, being Donovan's private rooms. Scarlet hugged herself as she entered the very last unlocked room, a huge, cavernous hall, covered in mirrors. She'd never been in this one before. In the corner, a curtain stretched from the ceiling to the worn wooden floor. She tiptoed across the wide floor, and paused at the curtain. A quick glance around showed she was still very alone.

She pulled the curtain aside, and jumped back when it collapsed at her feet in a cloud of dust. A large bed sat in the corner, half-surrounded by mirrors. The bed was easily twice the size of the one in her room, which she'd once thought was incredibly massive. It looked as if it hadn't been used in a very long time. The thick wooden headboard rise high above the mattress, the intricate details of the carvings in it shining dully in the candlelight.

Behind the bed was a door. She climbed onto the bed carefully, trying to keep the dust storm at a minimum. The bed was only a few inches away from the door, and she clambered over the headboard to reach the knob. It turned slightly, and caught. A few good yanks tugged it free, and the heavy door creaked open slowly. Darkness met her eyes. A blast of freezing cold air wafted toward her, blowing out all but one of the candles.




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 05



The last, she plucked from the holder and ventured into the hidden room. The light cast a small glow around her, lighting up only a couple feet around her. There were shadows of tall objects, maybe bookshelves, along the walls, and tables scattered through what appeared to be a long, wide room. She bumped against one table, and several objects scattered across it. She instinctively reached out to catch them before they rolled off the table. Several long stick-like objects met her fingers, and she held one up to the light.

A paintbrush? A quick glance down at the table revealed nearly a dozen more, of various sizes and shapes. They looked well-used, but not worn down. Why would her husband -- her *blind* husband -- have paintbrushes is his private rooms?

Settling the paintbrushes in a neat pile, she rounded the table and moved further into the room. She bumped into something else, something tall. It rocked on thin legs, and she just barely caught it before it toppled to the floor. The candlelight revealed it to be an empty easel. Further searching brought to light several more, stacked against walls and set up. One in the far corner seemed to be holding a canvas and she carefully made her way toward it.

Rounding it, she gasped and nearly dropped the candle. A half-finished, but very well done portrait of her fourteen year-old self grinned back at her. It was like looking in a mirror from the past. Whoever had done this -- and she had a queer feeling she knew *exactly* who it was -- had seen her close enough to notice the freckles. Nobody really noticed them unless they were very close to her. When, in her childhood, had she been near Donovan?

She leaned closer, inspecting it, looking for some sign that it wasn't Donovan's. No, the lines of her face were vaguely uneven, her features mildly disproportionate. Not too badly, but enough to know that someone hadn't been paying exact attention to their handiwork, or couldn't see very well...(or at all, when it came to him.)

Turning from the almost scary painting, she nearly tripped over a stack of canvases. Pulling them up, she gasped again and again as pictures of herself were uncovered. A few were of younger versions of herself; but those were different. Each brushstroke was perfect, the lines perfectly straight. These were years old. From when she was the same age as in the picture, at least. Maybe from before he was blinded. 

The newer pictures were on top; for a long while, there were only dark landscapes, abstract masses of writhing black and blues, the odd portrait of people she didn't know. Nothing of herself.

And finally, at the back, there was more of her. A couple that looked like attempts at aging her from imagination. They weren't half-bad, actually. In a few, the shade of her eyes, or hair was off, but not by much. It was like he'd simply picked the wrong paints without realizing it. And she couldn't say she blamed him.

Still, it was the most amazing thing she'd ever seen. Her husband was...incredible. Settling the pictures back down, she started exploring the room even more. More tables held more brushes or stacks of paintings. She wondered how he kept track of his things. There was so much, and he couldn't see.

In the back of the room, she found two easels set close to each other. She turned one around and gasped. A nearly perfect portrait of herself and Donovan kissing shone in the dim candlelight. The picture was from their shoulders up, and very large, almost lifesize. His strong fingers dug into her hair, which curled flawlessly over her shoulders and down her back. From what she could tell, they were also naked. The kiss looked real, too real. How was he that good at this?

The last painting was facing the wall, and her knees nearly buckled at the sight. Two perfect bodies were entwined on a dark red background. The edges of the canvas seemed to be painted with the design from the bedstead. The figures weren't finished; they were sole blots of white against the rich redness of the sheets. But the sketches were finished, and she knew, without the colour, without the freckles, that this was her and him. 

Her body was halfway on its right side, only one ripe breast peeking out from the arm she had stretched across his shoulder, pulling his head in for a smouldering kiss. Her legs twisted and were lost partway in the sheets, but she could see a small hint of dark hair where her core was...and Donovan's hand was wrapped around her right thigh and creeping towards that place. Her head was thrown back, apparently in ecstasy, her lips opened wide in a scream.

She blushed when her eyes moved to her husband's taught body. There was no exaggeration in the slim muscles, bulging biceps or thick, corded forearms. His chest was really that broad expanse, covered in dark hair, that tapered to a trim waist.

She tried not to see his hard shaft, but...it was too obvious; her eyes were drawn to it like magnets. She still hadn't seen or felt it in all its glory, but he seemed to have gotten the proportions down perfectly. The long, scarily thick penis jutted from his lightly furred groin proudly, drooping slightly under its own weight. Her mouth went dry. If he was really that big, or even if he had exaggerated by a couple inches, it would be nearly impossible for her to fit that inside her body.

Scarlet's eyes ran from the large, thick mushroom head, down the lightly veined shaft, to the large, pendulous pair of testicles at his base. To her shock, her drawn self's other hand was peering from under his balls, as her slim fingers grasped them tightly. Donovan's own face was taught, the muscles in his neck corded, every bit of him tensed. His dark eyes stared into Scarlet's pleasure-stricken face, hungrily. He looked predatory, like he would take her at any moment.

Wetness coated her inner thighs, and she squeezed her legs together; that only made her throb. All those memories, the ones she'd tried to forget, came back; memories of how he touched her, tasted her, made her quiver. This picture was so erotic, and she was so aroused...she needed a release, and she needed it *now.*

There was an empty table a few feet away, and she stumbled to it, blinded and dazed by her lust. Her back hit the sturdy table in seconds. Her skirt flew up to her waist, and her hands plunged into her panties. The flimsy cloth got in her way, and she wriggled out of them, letting them fall to the floor. She hadn't touched herself since the day he'd caught her, and day after day of arousal, coupled with that sinful picture, was driving her mad very quickly.

Scarlet wasted no time at all, didn't tease, or gently explore. Her fingers moved over her throbbing, wet clit urgently. Her hands moved so fast, they were practically vibrating. Low moans escaped her throat, and turned to louder cries as she brought herself higher. Unthinkingly, she whispered to herself, to her imaginary lover.

"Yes...faster...ooh, baby, please..." Her words grew dirtier and more frantic the closer she got to completion. "God, yes! Suck my clit, baby. Lick it. Please, baby. Please make me cum! Yes...fuck, *yes*!" Her voice broke when she screamed...screamed *his* name. "Donovan! God, Donovan...mmm --"

"What are you doing?" A deep voice demanded, very close to her.

Scarlet sat up quickly, still shaking from that almost painful release. Her heart stopped; her husband stood a couple feet away, his face grim in the low light from the sputtering candle she'd forgotten. It was toppled on the floor, and as she stared down at it, for only a second, it sputtered and a spark landed on the thick carpeting she hadn't noticed. Quick as a wink, the floor caught and she screamed before jumping off the table. Donovan turned and stamped out the fire immediately, before it could do any real damage. Once it was out, the room was plunged into blackness again.

"I asked you, wife," Donovan growled, closer to her now. She stepped back. "What are you doing in my room?"

"I--I--I'm sorry!" Scarlet stammered, backing against the table. "I just...I was bored. And the door wasn't locked. And --"

"What were you just doing?" He asked. He knew full well. He'd entered just as she started speaking to herself, and it wasn't hard to guess why she'd been talking.

"Umm..." She couldn't bring herself to answer. "Why did you paint me? As a girl? What -- when did you see me? Were you stalking me?"

Donovan turned away, walked through the room. She'd been through his things; canvases were moved, the brushes were out of their jar. He paced back to her, and realized exactly where they were. Near the new pictures, the ones of the two of them. She'd seen them, she knew his secret. The thought of his young wife knowing about him froze him. "Get out."

"W-what?"

"I said GET OUT!" He roared, taking her arm and pulling her, kicking and screaming, to the door that lead to the hallway. He tossed her out, and heard her stumble. "I warned you, Annabelle. Wait for me downstairs in your room. I'll deal with your punishment later." The door slammed behind him, and she heard loud curses as she backed away. Something heavy struck the door, and she turned and ran.

Down the stairs, through the third floor, down the next set, and to the second. She paused before she entered her room. There was no way in hell she would wait for him to come dole out whatever punishment he wanted. She skipped the room entirely and darted into the room with her luggage. Her cellphone...where was it? The lining was empty, and she hadn't left it in the study. Maybe in her bedroom. She started back up the hall towards it, and heard a door slam close by. Heavy footsteps stalked toward her, and she hurried away from them. Darting downstairs, she skidded to a stop. Where could she go in this house, so he couldn't find her?

Nowhere.

Her heart pounding, she looked at the front door. Was there even the slightest chance it was unlocked? Glancing around for Abner, she sprinted down the hall to the door and tugged. For a moment, it resisted and her heart sank. Then, the door groaned and opened a few inches. It was enough for her. She slipped out onto the porch and glanced around. The sky was overcast, and looked ready to let loose any second. She had no real choice; stay inside to weather whatever storm she'd brought upon herself, or weather this one out here. Maybe she could reach cover before the sky opened up.

The huge wall that surrounded the grounds and an equally large gate was at the end of a short drive, and she ran to it. The gate was shut, and locked. There was no way to get through it. Pulling her skirt above her knees, she began to climb. Being best friends with a boy had its advantages. She scaled the gate quickly and dropped to the other side.

"Annabelle!" Her voice thundered toward her as she landed. Donovan stood outside on the front step, glaring around him sightlessly. Abner appeared beside him and said something that made Donovan turn toward the gate. "Get your ass back in here!"

She hurried away, toward a stand of trees a few yards away. Behind her, the gate clanked as it began to swing open and she put on an extra burst of speed to reach the trees before he or Abner could get out.

"Scarlet!" He called her again, using her nickname this time, and she turned, briefly considering returning. The furious look on his face as he and Abner came through the gate changed that, and she slipped into the trees without another backward glance.

She made it, just as the heavens opened above her.



Beauty--Remastered Ch. 06



Dear Readers. First off, I adore each and every one of you! Especially those of you who voted and/or commented. Those comments make my writing seem worthwhile. I'm absolutely giddy that you like my story, and because of that, I'm trying my hardest to keep going. This chapter of Beauty sat in my documents folder, half finished, for weeks, because I had lots of drama and happenings, good and bad, and it wasn't especially appealing, and then I got some awesome feedback and it made me reopen it and finish it off. And I wanted to. So, thank you, anonymous person for the drive to continue. And all the other anonymous people out there for your votes and super sweet words.

Now, Chapter 7 is on it's way, I promise. I might answer a few questions in it, but we'll see =) Don't worry, all will be explained.

Love and kisses till next time!

-Almostluver

***

Scarlet was good and truly lost. She turned around for the hundredth time, but every tree looked the same; she'd passed the same spot half a dozen times, most likely. Even finding her way back to the house was impossible at this point.

Spending two hours, at least, stumbling through the forest, trying to escape her husband and butler, followed by several more hours seeking some sort of shelter from the storm that refused to give up; and then, once the rain slowed a bit, wandering haphazardly through the woods, looking for an opening in the trees, a path, a road, a stream, *anything* that could lead her somewhere she wasn't.

She had lost count of how many times she'd cursed herself for running in the first place. And for running into the woods. And for going into that damn room in the first place.

Sure, she'd had a marvelous time while she was in there, *but* the fact that she'd been caught doing *that* in his room, to his painting, *and* had nearly set fire to the room, sort of killed that marvelous time. And made her never want to do anything of the sort again, inside or outside his house or room or in the same world.

"Damn it!" Scarlet had taken up cursing again, about an hour into this hunt. "Stupid tree. Stupid water. Stupid – ahh!" She slipped and slid down a steep slope. "Mud! If I never see this stupid – uggh! – wood ever again, for the rest of my life, it will be too soon!"

She tried to stand, but her shoes, unsuitable for the outdoors, couldn't find a purchase in the mud. She groaned and sat back down, trying to keep back the tears of frustration she felt blooming; her skirt was literally dripping with mud, so it couldn't possibly hurt it any more than it already was. Besides, she needed to rest for a few minutes.

That few minutes turned to hours, and she opened her eyes to a fading darkness. She was ice cold, and her hair was damp with dew. The mud had caked around her legs and skirt, and she stood with a small groan. Flakes of dirt shook off, settling on her ruined shoes. The sun was rising though the trees behind her. If she was right, the sun rose behind their home, so walking toward the sunrise might bring her back to the house. And, despite everything, and even though she was going to be in a world of trouble, she *really* wanted to go home.

The sun was reaching the middle of the sky when she finally glimpsed the towers of the house. They were still nearly a mile off, but her pace quickened at the thought of the warm house – warmer than out here, anyway – and, hopefully, a very long, warm bath, followed by a very warm dinner, and a very long rest in her warm, comfortable bed. Followed, unfortunately, by what promised to be an intense punishment.

About half a mile away, her shoes gave out. She was surprised they'd lasted that long. She simply kicked the scraps off and continued picking her way, albeit much slower, through the forest. She stumbled over a root, and managed to catch herself, barely. But her left foot now had a large gash, and was horribly bruised and bleeding, and she stopped to sit down for a moment.

"I should be home within the hour," she reasoned aloud to herself, bending to tear some cloth off the bottom of her hem. She wrapped the filthy strips around her damaged foot carefully, hoping they'd provide at least some protection. It would be just her luck if, after all this, she came down with some sort of nasty infection.

"And, when I'm home, I'll march right up to him and say – no, I'll *demand* that he postpone that stupid punishment till tomorrow. He's the one that told me to get out, after all. I was just following orders! And –"

A soft noise caught her attention, and she froze, staring around at the trees, looking for the source. It came again, a low almost moan. Something hurt in the woods? When the noise came again, it sounded distinctly more...human.

"Hello?" She stood carefully, and ventured a few steps away. "Is someone there?" It was louder this time. "Do you need help?"

"P-please." The reply was nearly silent, but it made her pause. It couldn't be. No way in hell – "Annabelle."

"Shit!" She nearly stepped on his leg. Instead, when her foot landed on him, she overbalanced herself carefully and tumbled down next to him.

"I ought to spank you for that, wife," he growled hoarsely, . "But, as it is, I'm in no condition for it at the moment. I'll have to give you an IOU."

"Oh, shut up," She growled back. "What have you gotten yourself into, *husband*?"

"I've fallen and can't get up." He almost sounded like he was joking, but there was no way in hell her stern husband would ever joke about anything. "Care to do something about that? And I'll give you another IOU for that insubordination."

"Give me all the IOUs you want, my dear." With him down and out like this, she was feeling very daring. "The fact of the matter is, right now, you're helpless and I'm the only one who can help you."

"Then do so."

"I don't know if I will." She sat closer and inspected him. He was damp and muddy, and had bruises and cuts all over whatever bits of body she managed to see. A particularly nasty gash over his left brow had bled all over his handsome face, and she wiped away what she could with a semi-clean bit of her dress. "Now, why can't you get up on your own? And what the hell are you doing out here?"

"To answer your second question first, I came out after this infuriating woman I am – reluctantly – married to decided to run away from home in the middle of a storm, leading my faithful butler and myself to chase after her. After several hours searching, we returned home, hoping the silly girl had returned on her own, and found that not to be the case. After a lovely dinner and some rest, I set out – alone, might I add – to bring said absurd woman home, where she belongs. And now, to answer your first question, it was while on this idiotic hunt for this unfortunately daft young woman, that I tripped and sprained my ankle. Had this simple girl –"

"Okay, that's enough of that!" Scarlet snapped, standing up furiously. "If you call me 'stupid,' or 'simple,' or any one of those other names, I will leave you right here! And I won't tell Abner where you've gone, either! Now, apologize, or so help me, I'll leave you here to freeze!"

"My irritating wife has claws, doesn't she?" He smirked at her, the look thrown off by his scarred face. "I apologize for stating the truth. Now, since I've done what you've asked, would you please help me back to the house so I can clean up and then punish your delectable ass. I believe, at this point, I owe you quite a few spankings. Have you been keeping track?"

"You will not be spanking me, oh husband of mine. If your hand even approaches my rear end in a manner that is less than..." she trailed off. 'Less than' what? "Anyway, if your hand comes near me, I'll..." she stopped again. Making threats was harder than she'd thought it would be. What in the world could she do that would cause any sort of a rise in him, or make him repent the strike?

"Cat got your tongue?"

"Shut up. Don't hit me. Ever again."

"But don't you like it?" He winked and tried to sit up. She watched him struggle for a moment, before helping him, grudgingly.

"I mean it. Promise me, now, that you won't strike me, and I'll help you back to the house."

"Promise you won't run away again, first."

"You're in no position to bargain."

"Have it your way, then," he sat, with his arms crossed, like a stubborn child.

Scarlet groaned and walked a few yards away. Her feet hesitated, as if they had a mind of their own, just as he called her. 

"Wait. Annabelle, wait. Please."

She turned to face him, frowning. "What?"

It took him a moment to speak. "I won't hit you. I promise."

"Okay, let's get you home, then." It would be useless to try to get him to agree to anything else. She bent and pulled him up by the hand. He tried to help as best he could. Even so, with the foot in height and, at least, sixty-five pounds he had on her, it was a struggle. He limped along beside her, leaning heavily on her shoulder. "You didn't have to come after me, you know. For one thing, you're...well, you're blind. Adventuring outside on your own is stupid, and almost suicide. And for another, if I *am* such a problem to you, and you hate me so much – even though we've gone days without more than a hello – then leaving me out in the storm, to die or find my own way...away...wouldn't be so hard, right? You don't need me around, and we'll be getting a divorce soon anyway, right? So –"

"Stop!" He ordered, making her jump. She stopped walking, and he tottered when he pushed her away from him, only slightly, so he could stare down into her face. "I don't hate you. You're my wife, whether you or I like it or not, you know. So, problem woman or not, when you run away from me, I will come looking for you." He reached for her, and yanked her arm hard when she resisted. She tripped and fell into him, but he somehow managed to keep both their balance. "And, about that divorce...I don't want one." He pulled her tighter and laid his lips over hers, hard.

Scarlet tried to scream, tried to wriggle away, tried to push him. Donovan only held her tighter. One hand came up and tugged her chin, forcing her jaw open. His tongue barged its way into her mouth, pushing past the paltry resistance she set with her own tongue and teeth. And, he quickly set about ravishing her, very thoroughly.

It was a hard kiss, brutal, punishing.

Scarlet could feel his shaft, solid, against her half-skirted legs. She stepped back, but his hand only closed, gently, around the back of her throat. She froze, and he drew her back in. She kept fighting, until at last, she knew it was useless, and she let him do what he would.

"You know you don't want one either." He pulled away at last, just when she began to surrender and enjoy herself, and turned to continue their walk.

Scarlet couldn't speak. What the hell? Why had he changed his mind? She had been a pain in his ass, since the first time they met. And especially most recently. She couldn't imagine what had happened that would make him want her still.

"You're quiet, for once, my dear. I do believe I've made you speechless."

"I was thinking."

"Such a surprise, for you...and here I thought you never thought things through."

"What's gotten into you, Donovan? You've never been this..."

"I don't exactly know. All I know is, when you found me, I...I wanted to...I was relieved, that you had reached me. That you were safe."

She stopped them again, and turned him to face her. "What? You were really worried? Because I wasn't safe, not because you were mad? Or because you were stuck unless Abner found you?"

"No. Yes. I mean, I was mad. But that's not why I wanted you home. Last night, I decided to leave you on your own, when Abner and I stopped looking. You ran out and got yourself lost, and it was your own fault. But the house was quiet without you."

"You never see me anyway." She interrupted.

"That's not what I meant. It felt emptier. Without you there, silent or not, the house wasn't the same. And I knew I had to find you."

Scarlet blinked at him a few moments before starting to lead him slowly again. "What have you done to my husband?" Donovan only chuckled. "I'm fucking serious! You *don't* like me, Donovan. You never have, and, honestly, you probably never will. I understand that you feel grateful that I saved your life, or whatever, but, honestly, you've changed."

"I don't quite know, Annabelle. All I can say is you've grown on me. The whole time that I was away, I was missing you. And, even though we don't get along now, I think you and I could make this work."

"Are you mad that I was in your rooms?"

"Yes. I told you not to do that. But, I don't know why I expected you to listen. Then again..." He smirked again. "What you were doing in my rooms makes up for it, partly.

Scarlet flushed and picked up the pace. He made her feel guilty, and like a brat so easily. And, like a wanton, sex-starved fiend. She was tired of talking to him; trying to figure out his sudden change of heart was giving her a headache. But, as hard as she tried to stop thinking about it, the thoughts still came. He wanted to keep her, heaven knew why. They fought constantly – didn't speak, on the better days. She was, in his opinion, silly, infuriating, absurd...and a million other things.

She thought he was a possessive, chauvinistic, big-headed, high-and-mighty bastard...who she had the unfortunate luck of being cursed to marry and, ultimately, desire.

What an odd pair they made.

"We're here." He spoke finally, and she was drawn out of her thoughts. They were nearly out of the trees, and she could see the gates. 'Home,' as it was, for the moment, had never looked quite so wonderful. "You're limping."

She had completely forgotten her foot in all the talking and walking. The pain come rushing back at the memory. "Oh. Oww."

"'Oww'? What have you done to yourself?" He stopped them, and growled at her when she tried to keep walking. "Stop moving, Annabelle."

She cast a longing look at the iron gates. "I'm fine. Really. When I get home, I'll take care of it."

"What did you do?" Donovan demanded again, kneeling and taking her foot in his hand. When she tried to pull her foot out of his grip, he tugged her down onto her butt.

"I only tripped." Scarlet squirmed to get away. "Let go of me."

"Wife..." For once it didn't sound condescending. In fact, she almost liked the way it rolled, sort of affectionately, from his mouth. "Be still." She finally sat still and let him examine her. He frowned at the makeshift bandage, and she thought he would say something scathing, but he only shook his head softly and began to unwrap the cloth. She bit her lip to stifle a gasp as the last bit fell away. It stuck in the blood and dirt, and pulled her wound.

"Dear god, Annabelle!" His sensitive fingertips brushed over the edges of her cut and she hissed in a breath. "What did you say you did, again?"

"I tripped."

"What happened to your shoes?"

"Umm, they were ruined. Those slippers you bought me aren't really built for hiking."

He snorted and returned to poking and prodding. "You shouldn't have tried it."

"It's not like you fared much better!" She finally had enough, and yanked her stinging foot away. "At least, I can walk on mine."

"I have less chance of getting infected." Donovan stripped off his coat and shirt.

Scarlet tried her absolute hardest not to look at all the rippling muscles revealed by his lack of clothing. But it was next to impossible. She was practically drooling, watching the taut muscles flex and pull as he carefully shredded his much cleaner shirt into new bandages. She silently mourned when he pulled his jacket back over his bared body, hiding it from her gaze.

He paused and smirked slightly, and she felt that he knew what she was thinking. "This isn't going to be pleasant. You should have cleaned it sooner. But, I'll call the doctor when we get home and have him look at it. From what I can tell, it's a pretty bad cut."

Scarlet didn't have a chance to reply. He immediately set about wiping down her foot carefully with one of the cleanest pieces. He got most of the mud and grime off, but it also rubbed over the open wound and drew pained gasps from her lips. He looked up at her apologetically, and started re-bandaging her foot. His bandage had more layers, and would definitely provide more protection than the bits of her dress she'd been using.

"How's the rest of your leg, while I'm down here?" He tied the last knot in the cloth, making her grit her teeth, and slid his hand slowly up her leg.

Scarlet immediately jerked away. "Stop that!"

"Oh, be quiet. I'm not going to do anything to you." He caught her ankle and pulled her foot into his lap. "I'm just checking if you hurt anything else."

"I *didn't*!" She pulled away again and struggled to her feet. "I want to get home now!"

He sighed and stood beside her. "Let's go, then."

She limped more this time, since he'd reawakened the pain. He was limping as well, worse than she was, but he still tried to support her. She leaned on him gratefully, but carefully. They, most likely, made an odd picture. 'The blind leading the lame.'

"What's so funny?"

"Nothing," She hadn't realized that she had laughed out loud at that thought. He grunted and moved a little faster.

Abner met them at the gate, all decked out to search for them. Scarlet barely heard his scolding both of them; her for running, and him for following. It seemed to take forever to reach the front steps, and Donovan gallantly hoisted her up in his arms and carried her up them, sprained ankle and all, and despite her protests.

In fact, he didn't set her down until they reached the bathroom adjoining their bedroom, and that was only so he could turn on the water in the huge bathtub. Abner hovered in the background, ready to lend a hand if needed, but Donovan told him to leave and get them something to eat.

When they were alone, Scarlet started pulling the dirty, ruined dress off, careless of the fact that her husband was still in the room. It wasn't until he turned to lift her into the tub that she remembered her modesty.

She was, of course, completely naked, by that point. "Wait! You don't have to help me in. It's only a couple steps away."

He ignored her. And when she tried to stand up on her own, he grabbed her and pulled her into his arms. She squeaked, very conscious of the fact that her bare body was pressed, nearly head to toe, against his clothed, hard body. A bright flush spread across her cheeks. "When will you learn to not fight me?"

"When will you learn that I'm *never* going to learn that?" She snapped back. "I'm naked."

"I'm *very* aware of that, Annabelle." He smirked and all but tossed her into the hot water. She came up sputtering soap suds, ready to fight, but then the heat sank in, and she sighed and slumped back. Her eyes closed, and she stretched out in the basin, which was probably big enough for the both of them, plus another two people, giving in to the need to relax.

"How's the water?" He asked quietly.

She just sighed in answer. A rustle caught her attention, but she was too tired to open her eyes. It wasn't till the water shifted, lapped against her chest, that she jerked completely awake and was met with an eyeful of Donovan's maleness as he slid into the water on the opposite side of the tub.

"What are you doing?" she demanded, sliding away, and almost exiting the tub.

"I need to bathe too, and it will take too long, since you're probably going to soak for a while, and it saves water."

"B-but there are more bathrooms in this house. You don't have to share one with me."

Again, he ignored her and started stretching out. She scooted as far away from every bit of his body that came near her, and he laughed. "You might as well accept it, Annabelle. I'm bathing with you. And then, we're going to eat together. And sleep together."




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 06



"But–"

"Just sleeping. I promise. You need rest, and so do I. I'm afraid ravishing your body is going to have to wait a while." Before she could escape, he leaned forward and tugged her closer by the leg. Her head went under the water again, and she coughed when she came up. "Are you alright?"

"Do you have to do that?" She struggled for a moment or two when he pulled her next to him, but gave up when it became obvious that he wasn't going to let her go.

His hands came up and untied the band in her hair, at the bottom of her braid. Gently, he separated the strands, fanning her wet hair out around her shoulders. Then, his fingers dug into her hair, and she almost moaned aloud as he massaged her head and neck.

"How does that feel?" He murmured, his voice close to her ear.

"Good..." she whispered back, leaning into him with a soft sigh. What was he doing to her? She felt like she was going to turn into a big goopy puddle, if he kept it up.

His lips drifted across her ear and cheek. Donovan couldn't say exactly why or when his attitude toward his wife changed, why or when he started wanting her more...sometime on his trip, he'd suddenly wanted to hear her, smell her, breathe her air. It was more than just desire. It was a need, physical and emotional.

Her soft sighs and barely contained moans, mixed with their closeness, the heat of the water, and feel of her soft skin made him rock hard. He shifted uncomfortably, his arousal almost painful. He wished he could see her beautiful body, all covered in water and suds. She probably looked absolutely delicious.

"Donovan?" She whispered, startling him.

"Yes?"

"Thank you. I know I've been really ungrateful, and, probably, the worse possible wife. You're only doing what's right for me and my mom. I never said thank you for that. For all the trouble I've given you, it's a miracle you've stayed this long. But, you don't have to stay anymore. My mom's going to die either way, now, and –"

"How do you know that?" Donovan knew it was going to happen; he'd arranged for a daily update with her mother's doctors. He'd only found out the day after he'd left, so he hadn't gotten a chance to tell her.

Scarlet thought quickly. "If she was going to live, money or not, she wouldn't have made me do this."

"Right," he relaxed again. "Annabelle –"

"I mean it." She interrupted quickly. "Please, divorce me, now. We'll go our separate ways and you'll never have to hear from me again. I swear."

"Now, what would be the point of that?" He began scrubbing her with a soft cloth, carefully staying in less erotic areas. In his opinion, though, every area on her body was erotic. "I'm beginning to like you. Or haven't you noticed?"

Scarlet shifted uncomfortably for a few moments, trying to subtly let him know that she didn't want more contact than they'd already had. But he ignored her, as usual, and kept at it. Eventually, she relaxed and let him. His caution disappeared as soon as he felt her relax, and he scrubbed across her shoulders, down her chest, circled a beaded nipple. She sucked in a breath at the feel of the towel teasing her sensitive peaks.

"Wh-what are you doing?" She whispered, unable to stop him. It felt too good.

"Helping you," he murmured back, gliding across her neglected nipple. "To continue our conversation, though, I have a proposal. Stay with me two more weeks. I've grown to like you, so maybe you can too. If, in two weeks time, you still can't stand me, I'll divorce you, cleanly. You will receive a large sum, for your troubles, and I will continue to pay your mother's hospital bills until she..." He trailed off. "How does that sound to you?"

Scarlet considered it, ignoring the cloth, which had dipped below the water and was caressing her stomach. It wasn't a bad deal. In fact, it was better than anything she could have imagined him doing for her; cutting her off penniless and with a mountain of debt seemed more his style.

But, that was a lie, wasn't it? She'd judged him wrong, all this time. The again, maybe not. He had started out as a domineering asshole, and steadily progressed to unforgiveable bastard. Not two days ago, she had hated him. And he'd felt the same, or so she'd thought. He definitely hated her the day before he left.

So, in the six or seven days he'd been gone...what had changed?

She stopped thinking involuntarily, when the washcloth in his hands dipped down between her thighs. Automatically, she spread her legs, but clamped them shut again as soon as she realized it. In doing so, she trapped his hand between her legs. It pressed against her overheated sex, and she bit her lip.

"Remove...your...h-hand." She ordered slowly.

"I can't do that, Annabelle. You see, I seem to be stuck."

"Oh!" She opened her legs again, but instead of pulling away, he slid lower, rubbed her slit top to bottom achingly slowly. Scarlet couldn't say a word; all that came out was a surprised, strangled moan.

"You can do better than that, wife," he growled, leaning in to nip her ear. "Try again?" He stroked her again, the fabric of the washcloth rubbing across her clit deliberately. This time, her moan was deep and full. "Better."

She tried, halfheartedly, to get away, but he slid over her, resting his free hand on the side of the tub beside her head. The other stayed below, teasing her with the cloth. She'd never look at washcloths the same.

"You like that, baby?" It was the first time he'd used a pet name, in a way that wasn't derogatory or sarcastic, and somehow it only added to her lust. The way he said it, in a low growl, probably helped that as well. "Do you?" She nodded, squeezing her eyes closed. "No, open your eyes for me. Open those beautiful brown eyes. I want you to watch me make you cum."

Her eyes snapped open immediately, obedient with the promise of a release. How did he know she had her eyes closed? It didn't matter.

He released the cloth and went at her with his bare hand. She squirmed as he caressed the hard little nub at the top of her aching pussy. Her eyes were locked on his. He seemed to be staring right into her, but she knew he wasn't. For a moment, she wished he was.

"Stop thinking," he ordered, effectively cutting off active thought when a long tapered finger slid across her opening and just barely entered her. She clamped down on that tiny bit of him, and he chuckled. "So responsive. So needy..." his finger slid in another teeny bit and wiggled. She squealed and pushed down on his hand, trying to draw him inside her deeper. "So tight. Fuck, I want to be inside you so bad."

The needy tone in his voice made her melt, and she cautiously drew her arms up and around his shoulders. She pulled his head down hesitantly, and lifted her lips to his for a kiss. He accepted and laid his lips across hers, softly at first, and, when she opened her lips, took what was offered in that sexy, dominating way she secretly loved.

His finger pumped in and out of her, just entering her by an inch or so. Annabelle felt like fire around his digit, and the way she squeezed him...he could only imagine how amazing it would be to plunge his cock into her wet, viselike grip. His solid dick was aching for her already.

"D...Donovan!" She broke away from the kiss with a gasp. She tensed, and he pulled his hand away quickly. "What?" She almost slapped him as he cut off the flow of pleasure that had nearly pushed her over the edge. "Please. Please. *Please!*"

"It's so pretty when you beg," he whispered hotly, sliding down her body. She moaned another please when he gently nipped her right nipple. "Let's see how long I can hold my breath."

"W-what?" She sat up and looked down just as he went under and pressed his lips against her pussy. 

Her scream nearly shook the walls as she came almost as soon as he swiped at her clit with his tongue, before sucking it into his mouth.

He calmed her down gently, pressing soft kisses and licks against her swollen lips. She moaned and shuddered every time he did it, too sensitive for even the lightest touch. When he rose out of the water, a minute later, she was half relieved, and half disappointed. He wasn't even out of breath.

"I didn't even try," he pretend-whined, smirking. She just lay in the water, staring at him silently. "How was that? I really shouldn't bother asking. It was pretty obvious." To her surprise, he leaned down and pressed a quick kiss against her lips. "Thank you, Annabelle."

"I...I didn't do anything."

"You let me do it." He sat back next to her, pushing his wet hair off of his handsome face. She stared at him some more. What the hell was wrong with him? And what was wrong with *her*? "I told you, stop thinking so much."

"You just..."

"I made you cum, with my mouth. Much better than your hand, though, I'll admit, that was sexy as hell."

She blushed red hot at his teasing, and sat up quickly. He reached for her, but she quickly moved to the other side of the tub. "You –"

"You never answered me about my offer, Annabelle." Donovan interrupted her. "Two weeks. That's all I ask. Give me a chance to change your mind."

"Why?"

"I don't know. Please."

She started to think about it, but he'd said she thought too much. Her options were obvious: agree to his terms, and spend two possibly pleasant weeks with him; or continue as they had been for an indefinite amount of time. Running away was obviously not going to work out. She had a feeling, no matter how far she went, or how long she ran, he'd come for her.

In reality, she had only one *real* option.

"Fine. I'll stay for two weeks. But, I don't think you'll get me to like you in that time." She stood and climbed out of the now lukewarm water. As she wrapped a towel around herself, she felt his 'gaze' on her. Sometimes, she swore, it felt like he really could see her.

"I don't know, Annabelle," He smirked at her from the tub. "There may be something there that wasn't there before. And, believe me, I'm a persistent bastard. You'll learn to love me."



Beauty--Remastered Ch. 07



*Dear loves, I sooo apologize for taking absolute AGES to get this chapter out. For some reason, I was having the worst writer's block and I hated everything I wrote...erased the whole thing like 3 times! But, I finally had a spasm of inspiration and asked one of my best friends to critique it, and that helped a whole lot to loosen up my words. As always, thank you, loves, for reading, voting and commenting. It absolutely killed me when I read the requests for a new chapter and I couldn't just bang it out. That's one of the things I actually don't care for about writing: having the words stick sometimes. But, anyway, I made this chapter a tad bit longer than my others, and I hope you enjoy it. Chapter 8 is in the works, I promise, and you won't have to wait so long!

Kisses, Almostluver*

Chapter 7

True to his word, Donovan became a "persistent bastard"...but it happened a whole hell of a lot faster than Scarlet expected.

He exited the bathroom, naked as the day he was born, hard as steel, and strutted – as much as his injured leg would allow him to strut, in any case - right past the chair she was sitting in. The brush in her hand froze, still in her damp hair, as her eyes were glued to the massive, solid shaft jutting imperiously from its nest of dark curls at eye-level.

He felt her stare, almost as tangible as her hand, and he smirked. The gathering of his clothes was a long, drawn out process, made so by the knowledge that she was still frozen with her entire being focused on him. Retrieving a towel from a drawer in an armoire near the fireplace, he slowly and carefully wiped away the droplets of water that clung to his body.

Scarlet's eyes followed the towel, caressing over rippling pectorals, tight abs, the chiseled cut of his pelvis, and zeroed in, once again, on the erection between his legs. He scrubbed over it purposefully, handling it so she saw every bit of it, from the thick, plum coloured head to the heavily veined shaft to his large, low swinging testicles. Her mind flashed back to the painting upstairs; it was even better than he'd painted it, bigger, thicker...mouthwatering. Now where had *that* thought come from?

He smirked again and pulled on his silky night pants, opting to go commando. Something about that appealed to her.

"Dinner should be ready." He finally spoke, interrupting the silence, after he'd pulled on a shirt.

She jerked, as if waking up, and resumed brushing out her hair, turning away. Her free hand fidgeted with the lapel of her long robe, tugging it closed, even though she had a nightgown underneath that rose to just below her collarbone.

"Are you alright?"

"Why wouldn't I be?" Her voice held a tell-tale shake. It was the first time she'd seen *all* of him – in the flesh – and instead of inciting fear, like she'd always thought it would, she was feeling startlingly aroused. The thought that he wouldn't fit flitted across her mind, but something inside her shoved that doubt aside with a hearty and hungry 'who the fuck cares?'

"Would you like to eat up in the room, or downstairs? How does dinner in bed sound?" Donovan stood next to her, pushing his hand through her damp curls. She pulled her head away and he frowned. "Annabelle..."

"Downstairs, please." To her horror, she fumbled the brush onto her dresser. Donovan smirked. Gathering her nerves, she passed close to him on her way to the door and waited for him to lead the way.

***

Abner had fixed them a huge feast, with a ridiculous amount of choices. Scarlet didn't realize how hungry she was until they reached the dining room, and then her stomach instantly reminded her that it had been . She had a small helping of everything he'd prepared. Donovan ate less, and he talked to her almost constantly. Even Abner noticed the abrupt change in his master. He cast the pair of them mystified glances every time he entered the room.

"How's your foot?" Donovan asked after supper, as he led Scarlet up to their bedroom. She'd begun limping again, albeit just slightly, and somehow he knew it.

"It hurts." She admitted reluctantly. They entered the room, which was lit with several candelabras, and a softly roaring fire in the fireplace. It was warm, thank goodness, Scarlet sighed and shrugged off her robe.

"Come, I'll bandage it properly." In their bathroom, he found a first aid kit under their sink, and he ordered her into bed. After washing his hands meticulously, he sat at the foot of the bed and took her hurt foot in his lap. His movements were careful but sure as he cleaned her cut with antiseptic that made her hiss in pain, and wrapped it with a proper bandage.

"I should have done this before," he murmured, taping the cloth. "Stay here. Do you want some pain medicine?"

"No, it's not so bad." She scooted back in bed and watched him return to the bathroom. The look on his face, and his lack of a shirt when he came out made her stomach quiver. "Donovan..." He sat down next to her. "Why did you change? Really? Did something happen to you on your trip –"

"No, nothing happened. It's just...when I left, and I wasn't near you anymore...I really felt it."

He was lying. She knew he had to be. Nobody on earth just completely changed opinions like that. Sure, she'd missed him, just like he'd claimed to, but she still almost hated him when he'd come back. She still almost...disliked him *now*.

And, she could tell, he didn't just miss her body and how he was constantly trying to get into it. He'd sounded amused when she argued with him in the forest, instead of annoyed. He sounded like he was having fun, even. Like he'd missed it.

If she was completely honest with herself, she had missed their arguments too.

"What did I tell you about thinking so much?" He teased, sliding under the covers. "You're a complete puzzle, my dear. Either you don't think, period, or you overdo it. Never in between. Why is that?"

"Shut up." She pulled the blankets over her head. He slid down beside her and rolled over her, pushing her flat on her back. Scarlet swallowed nervously. "What are you doing?"

"I told you," He lowered his head to nuzzle her neck. "Being a persistent bastard." She felt the wet, smooth slide of his tongue on her skin, and she squeezed her eyes shut. A heat spread from that damp path on her neck, down over her breasts, and further down to begin a low ache at her core. "You smell so damn good, Scarlet." His hand settled against her hip. He pressed kisses on her rapidly heaving chest. His tongue caressed her again. "Taste good, too."

"Wait..." she pushed at him gently. For a moment, he resisted, but maybe he realized that fighting wouldn't help win her, and he rolled to lie beside her. His arm, though, laid heavy across her small waist. "I'm not..." She stopped and tried to gather her thoughts, not an easy task when he was touching her. "I don't..."

"It's okay," he murmured, his other hand caressing her soft, unruly curls. "I understand. It's too fast for you. In all honesty, we know next to nothing about each other."

Well, that wasn't quite true, when it came to him. He knew almost every one of her waking moments, from her birth up until he went blind, minus the years her family had been missing. But his accident had been a few years ago. She was still mostly a stranger. Besides, she *really* didn't need to know that he'd had an obsession that fringed on stalking with her before she was even legal. In his defense, it hadn't been sexual, at the time. He just...

Donovan cut himself off, mid-thought. "How about you and I get to know each other? Just ask questions, talk. Would that be alright?"

Scarlet sat up, throwing the covers off of their heads, and stared at him. Her thoughts were incredibly repetitive as she wondered, yet again, what had happened to him while he was away. But, he sounded sincere, and it wouldn't hurt her to know him. It was only for two weeks, after all.

"Okay."

"Great!" He sat up beside her, a grin on his handsome face. It was almost frightening, how gorgeous he was with that unusual smile. If she remembered correctly, he'd never showed her his real grin. Always a smirk, if not a frown. "You may ask first, my dear."

She glanced away, wondering what to ask him. There were probably a million things she could ask – his middle name, his birthday, his favourite colour – but only a few seemed important at the moment.

Donovan could almost hear the wheels turning in her head. He was trying to tone his enthusiasm down, aware that it was completely out of place. He had never been, maybe in his whole life, so eager, so ready to open doors and create a friendship – or relationship, in his wife's case – with anyone. Even before his accident.

He expected her to ask something mundane. He was prepared with every insignificant answer she might want to know, from his middle name to his favourite colour.

Instead, she pulled out the big guns, right off the bat, and left him speechless: "Why did you marry me?"

Donovan's mouth hung open, and he was very aware how ridiculous he must look. That question would have come up eventually; he just wasn't expecting it in the first round.

"Donovan?" Scarlet nudged him. "Why did you?"

"I-I needed a wife." He stammered. "And it was arranged. A long time ago."

"Yes, but why? For one thing, you didn't want me as your wife in the beginning. Why was I chosen? Of all the girls you could have been matched with, why did you choose me?"

He knew she wouldn't stop until the whole truth and nothing but the truth was revealed. He didn't want to tell her at all, and if he could have lied, convincingly, he definitely would have considered it. That was hardly an option, because if she found out the truth of it, she would hate him even more than she was going to for learning the truth. As it was, honesty was all he could give her, and it was what she deserved.

"I inherited you."

Scarlet stared at him curiously. "You what?"

"Inherited. My father...won you, in a poker match, twelve years ago. He died before you were old enough, and he left me everything he owned. Including you."

"Poker..."

"Yes, it's a game played with cards and—"

"I *know* what poker is. I want details." Her voice was calm, but he braced for her anger.

"Your father and my father were not friends. They had been classmates for their whole lives, and they were always trying to get a lead over the other. Twelve years ago, they were gambling, and the game got nasty real fast. Eventually the stakes got higher and higher, going through stocks and properties, businesses even, and your father ran short of funds first. My father wouldn't let him go to get the money, in case he didn't come back...and it would have bankrupted your family. And there was nothing your father could do...so he gave you up. My father said he would claim you when you were eighteen."

"You're lying." She was still calm.

"No, I'm not. I have the contract, signed by both of our fathers and two witnesses." Donovan stumbled from bed and into the closet. He returned, holding out a yellowed piece of paper, and tried to ease some of the pain. "My father never meant any harm. He was only going to scare your father into an apology—he never thought you'd actually come to me...well, him." He knew it was a lie—he was secretly thankful that his bastard of a father had died before Scarlet came of age. The thought of him with her made him sick.

"This is illegal," She said calmly, poring over the paper carefully. It was a well-written contract. In fact, it was almost convincing. "You can't...you *can't* bet people in poker."

"I know. When I found out, I was disgusted." And secretly elated. He didn't have to keep that contract, didn't have to take her, but he wanted her. It was only the perfect means to an end. "I'm sorry."

Scarlet still didn't quite believe it. She stared and stared at the old piece of paper. This was unreal. Her father had given her away? To Donovan's father? And what did he expect would happen to her when she was of legal age. She knew, and her stomach rolled just thinking about it. She tried to laugh it off so she wouldn't be sick.

"Your father was more than twice my age. If I became your mother...I'd be younger than you. Imagine me, ordering you about, telling you to clean your room." It sounded forced, even to her own ears.

Donovan didn't tell her that she would have never become his mother if his father had lived to claim her. He tried to grin, though he was sure it seemed more of a grimace and his chuckle was mirthless. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Yes, okay. So what? I'm a possession now? You own me?"

"No. I told you, if you want to leave in two weeks, I'll let you. I know I shouldn't have gone through with this in the first place, I just..." he stopped himself from saying too much. "I'm very sorry."

She looked over the paper again, but didn't really see it. "He always did have a gambling problem. Never knew when to quit. Half my life was spent moving, because he was always in trouble with somebody..." A flash of a memory came to her: her mother screaming, slamming things. Her father pleading. The ragged doll she clutched in one hand, as she stood, staring and listening. And suitcases, packed by the front door. "I remember. The night he came home, there was a terrible fight. He...Mother wanted to take me away. He said he'd save up to buy me back, but I had to stay or he'd die. That was when we moved, for the first time." 

Her voice became distant as she lost herself in the memory. "Oh, I was so tired, and so scared. Mommy came in my room, and she had my clothes in a bag. She kept telling me to hurry, but I was so tired. I was crying, I think. Then Daddy came in and he kept trying to stop her. She kept yelling at me, and at him, and I kept crying. Daddy picked me up, to make me shush, but she hit him and took me away... 'Don't you touch her!' she said... 'Not after what you did.' And then she carried me down to the car. 'Are you coming with us, James?' And he got in, quiet at last, and that was the last I ever saw of our home...I didn't understand it at the time. Just that Father had done something very bad." Donovan's hand on her cheek brought her back to the present. She blinked and the tears finally welled in her eyes. "He..."

"Shh," he pressed his lips against her forehead. "I'm sorry you had to find out like this, Scarlet."

She pulled away from him and his heart sank. "Don't. Not right now. I need to be alone."

"Of course." He moved away, but she stood up and went into the bathroom, closing the door behind her. After a moment's hesitation, he heard the soft click of the lock. Donovan slumped back in bed, his eyes stinging with tears for the first time in years. What had he done?

***

Scarlet stayed in the bathroom for hours. She tried hard, at first, not to think too much about it. It made her head hurt. But the thoughts kept coming, no matter what she did.

She was angry and sad and...almost amused. Angry at her father, Donovan, and maybe especially her mother. She had known. All these years, and she hadn't said a word, just let her daughter go to this strange man, because of a stupid poker game.

When it came to her father, though, she wasn't surprised, much. Yes, it was a shock, but in the long run, how could she have expected anything less from him? He'd had a gambling addiction all her life, and–

Something prickled in the back of her mind, like a long-forgotten memory, or déjà vu. She couldn't quite catch hold of it, though, so she let it be. Hopefully, it would come to her later.

Her father had gotten them into more trouble than she cared to recall. They'd moved so many times, sometimes just weeks after getting settled in a new home, because his money troubles. Her mother had stayed with him, though, because, stupidity or not, she'd still loved him. How she could, after all this time was a mystery to Scarlet. He'd lost their daughter in a fucking *game*.

That thought, the one she couldn't grasp, kept pricking her, and she tried again to bring it forward. It was useless.

And then, there was Donovan. He'd known as well. Maybe not for as long as her Mother had, but he'd still known that she was just seen as a commodity. He'd accepted her without protest, and had kept it a secret for nearly a month. She had known, deep down inside, that he knew things about her and their joining, that she didn't. But she had never expected something like this. His knowledge, and his decision to leave her in the dark made that hate she'd felt for him before yesterday return with a vengeance. 

Her anger for him, though, was tempered by the fact that she was...attracted to him, and almost happy that she'd come into his life. Not that she'd ever admit that aloud.

This was a mess, and all she could do was accept it, get through the next two weeks, and move on, go where she wanted and be who she wanted to be. Nobody would own her, and nobody would command her.

Her mind ached, and when she finally exited the bathroom, the ornate miniature grandfather clock on the dresser read 4 o'clock. She paused beside the bed, looking down at her sleeping husband. A little more of her anger faded, as she studied his sweetly sleeping form. She'd probably never understand why she was less and less furious with him, the more she looked at him.

Resigned, she lay down beside him and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. He immediately rolled closer to her and pulled her into his arms, not waking up the whole time. It was a sweet gesture, and after the drama of the day, it made her eyes fill. She sniffled quietly to herself, and let him hold her till she silently cried herself to sleep.

***

Donovan woke nervously, but happy. Scarlet hadn't left him in the night. In fact, she'd joined him in bed after he'd finally dozed off fitfully. He had thought for sure she would go to a different room. He wondered, though, how she would wake up. Whether she would be angry, or sad. Whether she would still want to know him. She had cuddled with him in her sleep, but that was unconscious; he was a warm body for her to cling to. She might hate him, consciously.

He hoped and prayed she didn't. He had kept a huge secret from her. An unforgiveable one, if he were honest with himself.

If she woke up and didn't want anything to do with him, he would understand. He would accept that and let her go. But, if this was the last time he'd get to hold her, he was going to make the most of it.

Donovan started with her hair. His sensitive fingertips combed through the curls, smoothing the 'bed head' he was sure was adorable on her. Next were her ears, and he was gentle with those, not wanting to tickle her awake, hoping to prolong this moment with her. She had three piercings in each ear, he discovered; two in each lobe and one in the cartilage near the tops. Next, his hands found her brow, tracing over the fine arches above her eyes. Her lashes were long and silky, her cheekbones high and smooth. Her nose, possibly covered in the freckles of her youth, was straight and the tip was very pert, but not snubbed.

Her lips, oh god, her lips! They were soft and full and he longed to taste them again. Just one last time. His fingers lingered there for several long moments, learning the exact shape of them, committing the curves and textures to memory. They were so damn sweet, he remembered. So yielding. So delicious. So perfect. For a brief, carnal moment, he wondered what they would feel like wrapped around his–

"What are you doing?" Her voice startled him, and he jumped and jerked his hand away immediately. She sat up and looked down at him.

"I'm sorry." The way he said it meant for more than just for touching her. She looked at him silently for a moment, then rolled away to get out of bed. "Wait." He felt her pause, and drew his hand away from her arm. "I'm very sorry, but...I have to touch you, Scarlet."




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 07



She drew further away, the need in his voice startling her. "What do you mean?"

"Please. If you want to leave today, you can. The terms of the deal will still apply, and you'll get everything I promised. Just, let me, please, touch you." His voice was raw with emotion, aching with longing. "I want to see you."

Scarlet stared at him for a long time. The needy way he was talking stirred something in her, brought out that same delicious hunger in her that he seemed to be feeling. His request to 'see' her made her want to lean into his caress and let him continue what he'd been doing when she opened her eyes. But she was still so...mad with him.

"Okay," she gave in, and returned to her spot beside him.

He smiled shyly, his dark eyes lighting up, and pushed her gently to lie on her back. His hands returned to her body, starting with the crown of her head. Scarlet sighed, instantly relaxing against the pillows. She couldn't think about anything when he was touching her, let alone pushing him away, or being mad. All she knew was she wanted him to continue.

She shivered slightly when he ghosted his fingers over her collarbone. When he traced each of her hands with his, she trembled. By the time he reached her waist, she was shaking so hard he could feel it. He stopped and was still beside her.

"Are you alright?"

"Mmhmm," she mumbled back.

"Why are you shaking? I'm not going to hurt you, Scarlet."

"I know."

"Then what's really wrong?"

"I...I don't know!" She almost wailed it, and bit her lip to keep the rest of the sobs contained. This breakdown was silly and sudden and pointless, and she wasn't liking it at all.

Donovan's sightless eyes rested on her for a long time, and then he sighed and lay back down. The inches of bed between them cooled quickly, and she missed his heat.

"I know I promised to let you go, if you want..." he started, and paused for a minute. "But, please, stay with me, Scarlet."

She didn't say anything for a long while. "Did you know me, before? Is that why you agreed to take me?"

"I didn't 'agree to take you.' I agreed to marry you. And I knew who you were, before."

"When did you see me? Those pictures –" Scarlet felt him tense, and she paused for a second. "Don't be mad about that. For one thing, it's in the past. For another, you did something far worse than I did."

"I'm not mad. It's just...that was my space, Scarlet. I asked you not to go there."

"Ordered, actually."

He wasn't annoyed when she corrected him. It just meant she was coming back, returning to that petulant, difficult Scarlet he knew and loved. He froze at the 'l' word echoing through his mind. He'd known the way he felt for her was stronger than like, much stronger. In fact, he'd refused to acknowledge 'love' the first time it jumped out at him when she stumbled over him in the woods. He'd felt it long before then, but he didn't have a word for it. Now, what would he do if she left him? His world, his life, would be through. He wouldn't kill himself, no, but there would be an emptiness for the rest of his life that he didn't know she'd filled until it was too late.

"Donovan? The pictures? They're beautiful." Her voice was soft, and drew him out of his increasingly panicked thoughts. "They're not perfect, with the perspectives and scale, and a few shades, but...what you did – what you do, are masterpieces that seeing artist could only wish to create.

"And that's why I asked if you knew me," she continued, sitting up. "Some of those pictures were from when I was just a child, fourteen at best. You even had one of the shirts I used to own. You saw me in it, didn't you?"

"Yes. You were shopping with your mother. I don't think you ever saw me."

She smiled softly. "You remembered me from a chance encounter at a mall?"

He appeared to blush. "You smiled at a little boy who spilled a whole chocolate ice cream cone on you, and bought him a new one. The whole day, you hadn't smiled once, and you looked like you didn't want to be there, but that little boy seemed to change everything for you, even if just for a few minutes."

"You're very observant," was her reply. She laid back down, and after a while, scooted a little closer to him. When he turned to her, she shrugged self-consciously. "The room is cold."

Donovan hid a grin as best he could and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly against his chest. She tensed for a moment, and then laid her head against the warm skin of his chest.. He sighed deeply, tremendously happy. Maybe she would stay with him. Her embrace made him believe so.

"I can hear your heart beating," she whispered. Her breath whooshed across his skin, giving him goosebumps. 

"Scarlet, will you...can you ever forgive me?"

She didn't answer for so long, he started to release her, sighing with resignation. "I'll stay."

***

"Milady, it's good to see you this morning." Abner smiled at her as she and Donovan sat down at the dining room table. "How is your foot?"

"Much better, thank you, Abner." She smiled at him, her grin wan and not quite meeting her eyes. Abner puzzled over the change that had so suddenly come over his mistress in the past two weeks.

"And your ankle, my lord?"

"It's fine," Donovan said shortly, turning to 'stare' at his wife. She looked at him and blushed, looking away again quickly. Abner chuckled as he left the room. Whatever it was that had changed her, it in no way affected the way she reacted to the Master. "Scarlet..." Donovan didn't know what he wanted to say to her. He looked away, down at his plate.

"Will you take a walk with me today?" She asked softly.

Donovan's head jerked up. It had been twelve days since the night he'd told her the truth. She hadn't been close to him, hadn't asked to spend time with him, had hardly even argued when he tried, albeit halfheartedly, to give her daily orders. It had scared him more and more as the days passed and her departure seemed eminent. When he asked to touch her, or spend time with her – and now he always did ask – she had let him, but without a word or touch showing she actually wanted him to. He was beginning to think he would prefer it if she refused him, instead of quietly and indifferently acquiescing every single time.

She was still bright and happy with Abner, and by no means was she cold to Donovan, but there was something missing, something keeping her from being the Scarlet she'd been before she knew. Donovan had tried everything, from being the gruff Lord Alford she couldn't resist clashing with, to the sweet, doting husband Donovan he'd become. Nothing brought her back.

She was constantly in deep thought, and more often than not, he had to repeat anything he said to her. Their getting to know each other had stopped at that night. Her replies to any questions he asked were short and to the point, and final. She went stiff every time he touched her; not intentionally, he was sure, but it hurt all the same. In fact, she'd taken two whole days to stop pulling away when he even came near her.

And the bedroom was a puzzle. She hadn't asked for a different room, neither had she asked him to take one. He would have, just to please her. 

Instead, she went to bed with him, lay right next to him all night, and woke up with him in the morning. But, besides a quiet 'good night' and 'good morning,' he might as well have been in another room. When he pulled her into his arms as she slept, she stayed there, even relaxed into him; but once she was aware, she pulled away and returned fixedly to her spot on the mattress, leaving a gaping space between them, physically and emotionally.

Three days into their new relationship, and he had been dying inside. A week, and he wasn't sleeping. Now, he was running solely on the fact that he could be near her now.

In two days' time, she might leave him for good, taking his heart with her; and despite his sureness that she *would* leave, he was determined to keep a stiff upper lip and let her go. It was what he deserved.

"I know you'll probably be busy, p-painting and working and all, and...but it should be a nice day today. We could just sit outside, if that would be better. And Abner's roses are absolutely gorgeous, and–" It was the most he'd heard her speak in nearly two weeks, and it made his heart sing. It was only a walk outside, but maybe, just maybe...

"I'd love to." He reached for her hand, and, surprisingly, she gave it to him.

He held it for a long moment, his eyes resting on her. She wished he wasn't blind, so she could see him really seeing her, see him drinking in the sight of her, his dark green eyes caressing all over her skin, instead of sliding over her and sometimes – though rarely – leaving her body entirely.

"Eat," he murmured, releasing her, with both his eyes and hand. They both silently mourned the loss of contact. Even though he tried to touch her several times a day, this felt like the first real touch they'd shared in so long. It hadn't been enough. Donovan wanted to reach for her again, and never let go. Scarlet wanted to beg him to carry her upstairs, to their bed, and make slow sweet contact with her. Not even sex, just touching like he did the morning after.

She looked down at her plate, really noticing it for the first time, and, as she reached for her fork, her stomach rolled unexpectedly. She turned away quickly, breathing shallowly through her mouth, trying to move past the nausea.

"Are you alright?" He seemed to know that she was feeling sick.

"Yes," Stomach pains quelled, she faced her plate again. This time, the fork made it to her mouth before the quivers started again. She set it down quickly and covered her mouth.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes-no!" She stumbled out of her seat and hurried to the bathroom.

***

"How is your stomach?" Donovan asked worriedly, helping Scarlet down the front stairs and out to the lawn. "Maybe it was something you ate? How long have you been feeling sick?"

"Donovan, I'm fine. It was a one-time thing."

"Are you sure? Maybe you should be in bed." He felt her forehead and she pushed his hand away with a frustrated sigh.

"If you'd just–" To her surprise, he swooped down and lifted her into his arms. "What are you doing?" She was unused to him touching her without her permission.

"Let's sit down." He carefully carried her to a shady spot under a tall tree. "Is this okay?"

"Yes, it's perfect." Scarlet leaned on his shoulder. 

They sat quietly for a long time. Her stomach had settled, though she still felt the occasional roll course through her. She'd been very sick, for a few minutes, and when it ended, she felt mostly fine. She couldn't explain it; it couldn't be something she'd eaten, because Donovan had eaten the exact same things she did. She didn't feel feverish, or exhausted, just the uncomfortable quiver in her stomach that reminded her that she had, in fact, been very ill not too long ago.

"Scarlet?" Donovan kissed her forehead, but she didn't answer. She'd fallen asleep, without either of them realizing it. He chuckled and adjusted her position so she was laying across his lap. While she slept, he relearned her face, touching and caressing every bit of her that he could reach without disturbing her.

Before he realized it, his hands had wandered down to the neckline of her dress. He felt her chest rising and falling, and slid lower slowly, to just rest his hands on her breasts. He didn't cup them, or feel for her nipples, like his libido wanted to; he just rested his hands on them. They were so full and soft and –

"You're taking liberties, husband." She muttered drowsily. He froze for an instant, and then jerked his hand away guiltily. She giggled softly and stretched. "If you want to feel me up, next time, just ask."

"Will you let me?" 

She looked up at him. His face and the tips of his ears were pink with embarrassment. "We'll see."

"Shall we go in? You'll get sunburned if you stay out much longer."

She allowed him to help her to stand, but refused his offer to carry her. His face fell, and she smiled and took his arm. That perked him up a bit more, and they walked back to the house in the most comfortable silence they'd shared in just about two weeks.

***

"Milady, is there anything I can help you with?" Abner poked his head into the library on the bottom floor, where Donovan had left her.

"No, thank you, Abner." She stood on her tiptoes to reach for a book, but went back down to her feet again. "Abner? May I ask you something?"

"Anything, milady." He came further into the room.

The question had been bothering her for days, and now that it was close to the time when she would decide if she left or stayed, she needed to know. "Did you know why I married Donovan?"

He squirmed under her direct gaze. She was just like his wife sometimes. That woman could make a saint confess with one look of her eyes. "Yes, milady."

"Oh." She sounded tired suddenly, and turned away again. "You can go."

"Milady, if I may?" He came close enough to take her hands. She let him, but didn't raise her face. 

"Lord Alford was very lonely before you came. Lonely, and...excuse my language, milady, a complete bastard. I know he is my employer, but I would like to speak plainly. Before you, he was hard, uncaring, depressed. And, after you came – even just the next day, I could see what a difference you brought out in him. You've changed him from the proverbial beast into the man you've come to love." She stopped smiling when he said that word and slowly pulled her hands away. "Don't bother trying to deny it. I know that look in the eyes. I know those smiles. I've felt that before. And you didn't demand to leave, once you found out. You're still with him, and happier than ever, it seems. Love is the only thing that could keep you here, when given a chance to leave."

"Please, stop." She said quietly.

He sighed and walked away. Before he got through the door, he paused and turned back to her. "For what it's worth, milady, I think it's a good thing he got you the way he did. It's good for both of you."

Scarlet stood, frozen in the middle of the library, her mind tossing around the idea of loving Donovan. It was crazy, but it might have been true. She was very attracted to him, she knew. And she felt things for him she hadn't ever expected to feel. So, she might love him.

There *was* something there that wasn't there before.

If she had known that Donovan had gone over the same things in his mind every second since his own epiphany, she would have run up to his rooms and kissed him senseless.

Shaking off the thoughts for the moment, she climbed onto a chair to reach the book she'd been struggling to get before Abner had come in. It was still a few inches too high, and she rose up on the tips of her toes, steadying herself with her hand on a lower shelf.

"Scarlet, are you in here?" Donovan's voice seemed suddenly loud in the silent room, as her fingers closed around the heavy tome.

She jumped and lost her balance, grasping for the shelves as she tried to right herself. Her fingers slid from the shelving and she tipped backwards.

Donovan heard a sudden scream and a loud thump, before a terrible silence met his alert ears. "S-Scarlet?"

He stumbled into the room, his fear making him clumsy. Still, he reached the spot where she was sprawled out on the ground quickly and scooped her up. He almost tripped over the couch he was trying to set her on. Once she was settled, he fussed over her, adjusting the cushions, rearranging her, doing a quick check with his hands to make sure she wasn't obviously hurt, just making sure she was comfortable when she woke up. But that didn't happen.

"Wake up, baby," He kissed her forehead. His heart stopped and he felt her head, checking for bumps or cuts. There was just a small lump from where she'd hit her head as she fell. But she just wouldn't wake up and he was starting to panic.

"Milady, I wanted to apolo–" Abner stopped and stared at his master, who was bent over his young wife on the couch. "Sir? Is something wrong?"

"Call a doctor, Abner. She fell, and she's not waking up." His voice was tight and pitched higher than normal. "Abner, look at her. Is she bleeding? Is anything broken? Bruised? I can't see her."

"Sir, calm down." Abner nudged him aside gently and leaned over to examine her. She just seemed asleep. "She looks fine, besides that bump. Stay with her, and I'll call Doctor Cromwell." Donovan nearly shoved him out of the way when he sat down next to his unconscious wife. Abner used the phone near the door. It had been programmed to only go through a select few numbers, the first of which was Donovan's physician. He got the doctor on the first ring and quickly explained what happened. "The doctor will be here shortly, sir."

Donovan didn't seem to hear him. He kept fussing over Scarlet, who was deathly still and pale. Abner was hesitant to tell his master that; the poor boy was panicked enough without that. He kept feeling for her pulse and gently shaking her. She didn't respond though.

"I'm going to take her up to bed. Send the doctor up as soon as he gets here." Donovan didn't wait for an answer, only scooped his wife up and whisked her off to their bedroom. She stirred and opened her eyes once she was tucked safely in bed.

"Donovan? What's wrong?"

"Don't get up." He was by her side in an instant, pushing her back gently and pulling the covers up to her chin. "The doctor's on his way. You fell and you've been unconscious for a while. How do you feel?"

"Well, my head hurts, but I'm fine." She studied him; he looked terrible. "How are *you*?"

"I was worried."

"Aww," she sat up against his orders and took his hand. "Donovan, I'm sorry for the past two weeks. I've been awful to you, after you've given me so much. It's just...knowing what I know now...I had to wrap my head around it. And I'm sorry I've taken so long, but I was hurt that you kept it from me."

"I deserve worse," He murmured, lowering his head. "Let's not talk about this, now."

"But I–"

"Leave it alone, Scarlet." He kissed her hands and pushed her back down in bed again. He stood and went to the door. "Now, be quiet, and be still till the doctor comes to see you."

"There's the bossy Donovan I know and love," she joked.

They both froze at that word. Donovan's heart had leapt when she said it – there was something *real* about it, as if she'd meant it as more than just a joke. Scarlet's had stopped – she'd meant it; but she hadn't meant to say it.

He turned to her, and she looked away. He sat down beside her again.

"Scarlet..." He leaned forward and kissed her hesitantly. She was very still and didn't respond. "Scarlet, do you? I–"

"Sir, the doctor is here." Abner led a little old man into the room. "Oh, good, you're awake, milady."

Donovan pulled away and stood. "I will wait outside."

"Donovan..." Scarlet reached for him, but he stalked out without a word.

***

His heart hadn't slowed much since Scarlet had used that word. He had been so close to saying it back, but the doctor had come in. It may have been a slip, but she surely meant it. Otherwise it wouldn't have come out, right? It was torture not knowing, or having a chance to tell her exactly how he felt. But the second he saw her again, he would.

But the examination was taking much too long, and it worried him.

Donovan surged to his feet when the doctor opened the door. "How is she, Doctor?"

"She is just fine. That bump on her head will go away soon. She may be concussed, so I want you and Abner to keep an eye on her overnight. She just needs some rest. I'm certain your child is well, as well."

Donovan jerked. "What child?"

"The child your wife is carrying." Dr. Cromwell looked at Donovan curiously. "What is wrong, my lord? You weren't aware?"




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 07



Donovan's mouth tightened. "No. Why would I be? It's not mine."

"Are you sure? You've been married for about two months...it's hard to judge how far along she is right now, but if you bring her in to the office in a few days, I'll run all the proper tests. All that aside, you're going to experience one of the greatest things in this life, with, may I be so bold to say, one of the most delightful young women I've ever had the privilege to examine. Congratulations, my lord!" The older man shook his limp hand.

"But we never..." Donovan turned suddenly and stormed away. How could she not tell him? And how could she...the thought made him want to slam his fist into the wall. She wasn't what she said she was. She acted innocent, but...he should have known. How could she lie to him? Even after they stopped hating each other.

Who was the father?

"My lord..." Abner called. "Lady Alford would like to see you. I'll let the doctor out."

Instead of going in to Scarlet, Donovan paced the halls after they were gone. His mind was reeling. How could she have kept that a secret? And what did she expect—it hit him suddenly.

His mind recalled the night he had the dream about her. She'd whispered a name. What was it? Joey? He hadn't thought about that since then. She had professed her love to this Joey. She and Joey must have gotten too carried away. Now, she was most likely carrying his child, and since she was arranged to marry him anyway, he was the obvious saviour.

She had married him to hide the evidence. Maybe Joey was married. She loved Joey, and they'd gotten carried away, done all the things Donovan ached to do with her, and when all was said and done, and she realized her mistake, she had thought of *him.* That way, if she did end up pregnant, she could blame him. It hurt him that she lied and would use him like that.

And to think he was about to profess his undying love to her. That thought made him laugh. It had died pretty damn fast.

"Donovan?" Scarlet's small voice came from the doorway and he turned toward it. "Can...we should talk." He pushed past her into the room, pretending not to care that she almost fell. He barely held himself from catching her. "I'm sorry, Donovan. I—"

"You lied to me, Annabelle."

Scarlet's heart sank. He hadn't called her 'Annabelle' in a long time. She was Scarlet now. "I didn't know."

"How could you not know?"

"I don't know!" her voice rose and she fought back tears. The hateful look on his face was horrible. He was glaring at her. "My...bleeding is always off, and I thought it was just that. I swear I never did anything with anybody, except you! I'm a – I was a – I'm a virgin. I swear! Donovan, please, please, please believe me!"

"Why should I? Everything you've said to me has been a lie." His voice was quiet, calm, and so sad.

Her eyes filled. This wasn't real. No way could she be pregnant, after everything they'd done - or hadn't done, in this case. The doctor was wrong, and she'd prove it. "No, I wasn't lying!"

"Get out."



Beauty--Remastered Ch. 08



Dear lovely readers,

I really hope you love - or at least LIKE - chapter 8, though it's one of the slightly slower chapters. One of my best friends critiqued it and said I added too much to it at the end, and I should save it for chapter 9. So, I'm quite apologetic to say Chapter 9 is where it's at...luckily that's nearly half done ;-)

Also, I want to say, thank you all my faithful readers for continuing to read my stuff. It's not the best, and some chapters have been harder to get on paper than others, but I'm proud of where it's going. For those of you who've given up because of the waits, I thank you as well for going as far as you did. Whether you finish this story with me or not, the fact that you read and vote or comment on it, loves, really makes this feel worthwhile, and like I'll someday get somewhere with practice. So, from the bottom and top and every little corner of my heart, thank you SO much, my loves!

Kisses, Almostluver 

***

"Get out."

"Don—what?" A startlingly painful ache was beginning to gnaw at her insides.

"I said...get out."

"Please, don't do this."

"Am I supposed to let you and your bastard child stay in my home, and we'll pretend to be a big happy family, then?" He all but shouted.

Before Scarlet realized it, she was across the room, and her hand was stinging from the resounding slap she'd given him. "Don't you *dare* call my baby a bastard!" The force of her own sudden defense of the little stranger inside her shocked her into almost immediate contrition. "I-I'm sorry." She took his hand, but he yanked it away. "Wait, just listen to me for a minute."

"Use that phone I know you've been hiding to call whoever you need to come pick you up, Annabelle." His voice was quieter than she'd ever heard it, and it scared her. "Pack your things and go. I'll have the money I promised set up in an account for you. Abner will bring you the details before you go. I will have the divorce papers filed within the week. You may send Abner your address once you're settled somewhere." He turned to the door, but she caught a hold of his coat, falling to her knees when he pulled on it. "Release me."

She couldn't breathe. "Please. Don't make me leave you–"

"Just go, wife." Donovan left the room.

"Donovan! I'm sorry! I don't know what I did, or how this happened, but I'm sorry." She called after him. A door somewhere slammed and shook the tears from her eyes. "I'm sorry," she whispered again, hurrying back into her room and slamming the door. 

Why wouldn't he listen? She had never been with a man – and she sure as hell wasn't carrying the next Christ-child. So where had it come from?

She sank down on the bed for a split second before her anger rose again. She stood, rushing to her closet and throwing the doors open wide. It was filled almost to bursting with the clothes and accessories Donovan had bought her. She tore the gorgeous dresses and skirts off the hangers, tossing them carelessly on the ground.

Her old clothes, the few he'd allowed her to keep, were pushed to the very back. She took those and threw them on the bed. Adding the very few trinkets and possessions she'd had before their marriage, she stared at the pitiful little mound on the bed. She wouldn't need most of the bags she'd brought.

Straightening her spine, she marched down the hall to the room with her luggage and selected one of the larger bags. It would carry everything. Her phone was tucked into a side pocket and she turned it on.

Joey answered on the third ring. "Scary! I haven't heard from you in too long! How are you? Did hubby make another business trip?"

"Joseph, I need you to come get me." She tried to keep her voice level, without any traces of anger or sadness, but he jumped on it anyway. She heard him fumbling to get his things. He hadn't been lying, all those months ago, when he said the second she wanted to leave, he'd be there. It was almost funny.

"Why? What's wrong? Did he hurt you?"

"N-no." She started shoving clothes and things into her bag willy-nilly, not bothering to fold anything. "I will tell you on the way home, just get here. Fast."

***

An hour and a half later, much sooner than she expected, Joey crashed through her bedroom door. She was lying down on the mattress, staring blankly at the ceiling. "Scary! Are you okay?"

Abner entered hesitantly behind him, a packet of papers in his hands. Scarlet studied him out of the corner of her eye; he seemed very sad. She would miss him as much as he'd miss her, for sure.

"I'm fine. Would you help me with my bag?" The sooner she was out of this damn house, the better. Joey opened his mouth as if to argue, but she just laid back and looked up again.

"Milady–" Abner approached the bed when Joey left.

"I'm not your lady anymore, Abner," she whispered, rolling over to look at him. "You can call me Scarlet."

"You'll always be milady, milady." He chuckled for a moment, and then his voice was sad again. "The master has the bank papers ready for you."

"Give them back. I don't want anything from him. I'm sure you understand."

Abner was shocked. "But what about –"

Scarlet stood up and pulled on her sweater. "Just tell him that I asked that he only keep my mother's hospital bills paid, as he promised. Other than that, he can keep everything."

"Milady, don't do this. Think of the baby."

"We'll be fine, Abner. Thank you, for everything. I'm going to miss you, a lot."

He followed her outside and down to the front door. To her surprise, Donovan was waiting for her there. He didn't have that stony, hurt look anymore, but his expression was sadly blank, his face pale. She squared her shoulders and stopped right in front of him.

"Thank you, Donovan, for being such a wonderful husband." There was no trace of sarcasm in her voice. "I wish you would believe me, so we could figure this out, but I can't say I blame you."

His throat worked for a few moments, but he turned his face away. "Go."

Her eyes filled, but she reached out and hugged him tightly for a moment. He didn't hug her back, but he also didn't pull away. "Goodbye, Donovan. I think...I'll miss you."

On impulse, she rose up on her toes and pressed her lips against his, in a weak replica of the kisses they used to share, even back when they were just starting out. Her heart started to ache when he didn't respond, and she released him suddenly with a hoarse sob and hurried out to the car where Joey was waiting. Scarlet couldn't see through her tears that Donovan's face was slick with his own tears, and how he started down the stairs after her.

She didn't look back as the car sped out of the drive, or as it passed through the gates. Only when it turned a corner, and the house was out of sight, did she turn her head and glance back the way they'd come.

Joey waited as long as he could before he pestered her. She was sitting very still and very quietly beside him, and he didn't like it at all. But he still tried to start off gently, and work his way up to questioning her.

"So...Danny is excited to see you. He's preparing the guest room. He would have come with, but he was still working when you called...it's been so long, Scary. It's good to see you. We should go out and celebrate your homecoming tonight, or maybe tomorrow, since it will be late when we get back."

Scarlet saw the effort he was making, and she appreciated it. "I'm pregnant, Joey."

Perhaps it wasn't the best time, or way, to tell him. The car swerved dangerously for a moment before he got it under control. He pulled over onto the shoulder and put it in park. His eyes were wide as he turned to her.

"*What?* Congratulations!" He hugged her gently, and then squeezed her tighter as if realizing she wasn't suddenly porcelain. "Why are you leaving, then?"

"Remember that time I told you he wouldn't touch me until I asked for it? I still haven't asked. I...I made up my mind, I was going to, tonight. You were right. I was starting to...you know, like – love him. He told me I could stay for two weeks, and then he'd let me go...and that's in two days. I wanted to stay, Joey. But I fell and the doctor came and...I'm pregnant. And it's not Donovan's."

"Well...whose is it?"

"I don't know. I haven't. Y-you know I haven't. I would've told you, wouldn't I? But you and Danny are the only men I'm ever around! Donovan wouldn't listen. He doesn't want me anymore! He said I lied to him."

"I'm sure he's just upset."

"No."

"He'll come around. He'll forgive you."

"After this, I don't know if I can forgive him."

"Shh, don't be like that."

"He called the baby a bastard." She lowered her voice. For some reason, even though she didn't know its father, and hadn't even thought it was possible to have it at all, she couldn't bear to say that word about the little person living inside her. "And I slapped him."

"Well, good for you!"

Scarlet burst into almost happy tears at her best friend's indignation. She reached across the car and hugged him tightly. "Oh, Joey, what am I going to do?"

"First, you're going to nap, while I drive. And then we'll all sit down at home and figure things out."

"Okay," She sat back and let him drive back onto the road. Her eyes closed as exhaustion washed over her. Before she dozed off, she turned to Joey. "I need to talk to my mother. She has some secrets I think I should know."

***

Back at the house, Donovan was on edge. He had stayed outside Scarlet's bedroom for as long as he could, pacing the halls, always getting closer and closer to the room. Finally, he was just outside the door, and he stood in front of it for a long time, unsure if he wanted to open the door. He could just get Abner to clean it up, but the man had busied himself in some other part of the house, and for some reason, Donovan couldn't imagine tearing himself away from being this close to what was once hers, even for the minutes it would take him to find his butler.

When his hand settled on the knob, he hesitated again. Goddamn, he wanted her back. He wanted to be able to open the door and walk right in, regardless of her indignation and insistence that he at least knock. He already missed riling her, even if he hadn't felt much desire to do so lately. Maybe that was his problem. He should have just left things the way they were: with him a cold, unfeeling bastard and her a bratty, prudish bitch.

In his heart, though, he knew that she wasn't a bitch. Everything she'd done was deserved. He'd assaulted her, harassed her, scared her and, most painfully, lied to her.

But, he reasoned with himself, his hand still on the knob, she had lied to him as well. About something much bigger than a simple poker game. She was having a baby with some other man. If she had told him that it was a possibility, he might have accepted it. But the fact that she tried to hide it, make it seem like his, just threw him for a loop.

He turned the knob, but stopped yet again when a thought struck him. She had fought him every time he made a move on her. If she had been trying to hide the baby, he would think that she would jump straight into bed, no matter how much she hated him. It would only take one time. Then she could have pushed him away, and no one would have been the wiser. But, she hadn't done any of that. From all angles, she played the innocent virgin, even up to their first kiss. It was as if she hadn't even done that before.

Could it possibly be true, that she didn't know how the hell she was pregnant? It was crazy, but crazier things had happened. Against his own wishes, he almost began to believe her. He wanted to find out – he *would* find out.

Steeling himself, Donovan entered the room. Immediately, he stumbled into the clothes and other crap Scarlet had left on her floor. Her lingering scent in the room, coupled with the emptiness and knowledge that the emptiness was permanent, made his heart ache. He sank down on his knees and held the dresses to his face, just breathing her in. Her nutmeg scent clung to the cloth. He moaned; despite his sadness and pain, arousal was coursing through his veins, bringing him to painful hardness. It was crazy, but he may have been more ready to fuck the hell out of something – particularly Anabelle – than he ever was when she was there. He wanted – no, needed – her with a ferocity that was quickly overwhelming his brain.

He reached his hand into his trousers, freeing his steely erection. It throbbed in his hand and he worked his hand up and down the long shaft feverishly. Holding the cloth to his face, he moaned and pumped his hips against his fist, remembering the last time he had her in the bath, and the sweet taste of her. More than anything, right this second, he wanted to taste her again. 

The Scarlet in his head rose from the water and draped herself over him, straddling his body. Her wet skin slid across his. All he could feel and smell, hear and taste was her. He wished to god that he could see her, correctly. Having a mental idea of what she looked like didn't come close to the real thing, even if she claimed he was close.

"I want you inside me," she whispered, rising up and leaning with his hard length right at the entrance to her core. He slid his hand up her thigh and touched her there; she was slick and wet with something other than water. She squirmed on his fingers, cooing in his ear. She nibbled on his lobe, a sensitive spot and he shuddered so hard, she wobbled to keep her place on his lap.

"Are you sure, baby?"

"You don't want me?" Her soft voice took on a slight pout. His Scarlet had never pouted. She made as if to get off him, but Donovan grabbed her hips and pulled her back down.

Too hard. Too fast.

She screamed when he accidentally seated her completely on him, his hard cock buried as far into her as it ever could be.

"Oh, god, baby!" He froze for a split second before trying to lift her up. She whimpered and fought against him. "I'm so sorry! That was too fast!"

"You...you don't say," she panted, gritting her teeth. "Damn it, Donovan, stop moving me. It hurts!"

He hadn't ever considered taking his wife's virginity in the tub, and definitely not on accident. To him, that act should have been done when they were firmly ensconced in their big bed, and after he had spent the day wooing her. *Not* after he chased her all night through the forest.

"I know it hurts, that's why I'm getting you off."

"Not yet, you're not," She smirked, despite the pain. "Give me a minute, will you? It doesn't feel so bad...I think it's getting better." She wriggled experimentally and chuckled when he hissed. "My thoughts, exactly."

"You're killing me here, Scarlet." He moaned as his whole body tensed when she moved again.

"Says the guy who's buried what feels like a ten-foot iron spike inside me." She settled more firmly into his lap. "Okay, I think this is doable. You can move me, now."

First, he just shifted her a bit so she was comfortable. She winced or sucked in a breath with every move, but didn't say anything to stop him. He knew that her first time would be painful. That didn't mean, however, he liked the fact that he was hurting her.

"Are you going to do it, or not?"

Holding his own body very still, so as not to jar her accidentally, he lifted her a few inches and lowered her again. She laughed.

"That's it? I won't break, Donovan."

"It'll hurt."

Scarlet leaned down and kissed him softly. "I don't care."

He moved her on top of him again, and this time, she didn't wince or anything. He did it again, a little bit faster, and she caught her breath. There was no pain there, he could tell by the tiny whimper he almost missed at the end.

When he kept doing it, her indrawn breaths became louder, turned into all-out gasps, and then moans when he changed his angle. "You like that?"

She laughed and touched her feet to the bottom of the tub, helping him raise and lower her faster. "What gave me away?"

"Then you'll love this!" He lifted her and laid her back on the other side of the tub without leaving her body. She quivered underneath his body when he began thrusting hard and fast, the way she wanted him to. The water sloshed up to her shoulders, even reaching her lips on particularly deep, hard thrusts. She laughed and lifted her head clear of the waves, and met his searching lips.

One of his arms wrapped around her body to support her shoulders from meeting the corner of the bath. The other teased her nipples below the water. She squealed into his mouth when he pinched one and then the other.

"Oh – oh fuck!" His hand worked its way down her body to the apex of her thighs and she clenched on him suddenly. Donovan feared for a moment that she'd snap him clean in half, but she loosened after a moment. It was a relief and a loss at the same time, though she was still vise-tight around him. She kept up that tensing as he rubbed her sweet little clit. Even long after she should've been used to it, her tight pussy squeezed when he touched her.

"More," she whispered brokenly, tearing her lips away from his to gasp for breath. "Oh...please more. So- oh! So close."

He relinquished her clit and hitched her legs up around his waist. It changed the angle of his thrusts, made him hit a spot inside her that tore a soft scream out of her throat. He growled in response and moved faster. Her breath sobbed in and out with each plunge. 

"Come for me, baby," His voice was needy, deep, purely sexual.

She whimpered and clung to him, her nails digging half-moons into his skin. He didn't care, or even notice. Her soft cries grew louder, and louder until she was fairly screaming as she approached the edge. He was right there with her. He could feel the end rushing toward him, and he hoped they would come together, or that she would at least come first.

She gasped in a breath and froze, her entire body squeezing around him in an impossible grip. Her pussy contracted, and then fluttered wildly as her orgasm crashed around her. It was almost like a vibration around his cock, and it was enough to tip him over. He exploded into her with a roar. She shook and moaned under him in the strongest orgasm he'd ever witnessed. His own made his eyes roll back in his head, and he slumped when it finished, still twitching occasionally.

Scarlet laid beneath him, finally breathing again. He felt the stuttered rise and fall of her chest against his. The only sound in the room was their mingled, harsh breaths. Then she chuckled faintly. "Why didn't I want you to do that to me before?"

He grinned and pressed his lips to her damp skin, breathing her in. "You didn't love me, then."

"Oh yeah. Whew! Glad that's changed."

He sat up, staying inside her even though he was quickly softening. "It has?"

"Of course it has, Donovan. Didn't you know? I love you."

Donovan blinked. His hand was damp and sticky. The scent of her filled his nostrils and he threw the dress he'd had clamped to his face away violently. It hadn't been real. It couldn't be. His wife wasn't a virgin. She didn't love him. And she was gone.

Damn his brain for making that feel too real.

Anger sang through his veins. It wasn't rational, but he was furious with her for making him fantasize about her. Angry that he wanted her as badly as he did, enough to make that daydream seem like a reality. A fury unlike anything he'd ever know shut down his brain, and made him reach for her discarded dresses.

Within minutes, strips of fabric littered every surface of the room. Her entire wardrobe was decimated in less than ten minutes. His rage, though, hadn't cooled, and he began with the sheets on her bed. Then the curtains in the window. When every single item made of cloth was done, he set in on the bigger things.

Her vanity was in pieces in mere moments. The drawers and shelves from her closet were ripped viciously from the walls. The vase of roses Abner had left on the mantel shattered against the door, spraying water, glass and flower petals everywhere.




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 08



Even the massive bed didn't escape his fury. He lifted the heavy mattress clear over his head and sent it crashing against the bedroom door. The thick wood frame splintered under his onslaught as he pulled and tugged at it. When the bed lay in a heap of broken and splintered wood, he thundered into the bathroom.

Every little thing he could easily smash, crumble or throw disappeared. Broken perfume bottles left shards of glass in pools of sweet smelling liquid, and he walked over them without feeling a thing. The smell of them, most recently scented on Annabelle's soft skin, drove him even further into his madness. The mirror shattered beneath his fists, and he didn't feel the glass embedded in his knuckles.

Pipes were wrenched from their berths, causing water to leak onto the dirty floor. Donovan turned and tore the thick, hefty door right off its hinges with a loud crack. Lugging the thing through to the bedroom, he sent it flying into and through the bare bedroom window.

That last, heavy crash seemed to wake him from his manic trance. He blinked hard and focused, listening carefully. Water was trickling somewhere behind him. When he moved toward the sound, he stubbed his toe into the pieces of shattered bed. The scent of Scarlet's perfumes slowly wandered from the bathroom. All at once, he realized what he had done. The rooms were in shambles. Nothing had escaped his wrath.

He turned and stumbled to the bedroom door, tripping over the mattress in his haste. He nearly bowled Abner over as he escaped the hellhole he'd created, and skulked up to his rooms.

Abner stared around the clutter of what had once been his Mistress' room. His Master had done a number on it; Abner had never seen such destruction in all his years looking after his fierce tempered master.

The water from the bathroom was seeping into the plush carpet in the bedroom, and filling the air with the scents of Scarlet's perfumes. Abner carefully entered the bathroom and groaned softly. The destruction his master had wrought on the once gorgeous bathroom alone would take hours to clean and probably weeks to repair. First, though, he'd have to get the water turned off before it spread any further and weakened the floor.

A harsh shudder ran through his body as a loud noise filled the cold, empty halls. It was like a howl. The high, wavering, bestial cry echoed down the stairs and sent chills down Abner's spine. He hurried downstairs, trying hard to get far away from that haunted noise.

Donovan curled in his rooms, hiding in the shadows. Hiding from the emotional pain, and ignoring the physical pain from his cut and bloody feet. The howl had been involuntary, but it had helped to ease some of the pain, temporarily. He already felt that pressure coming back.

He ached for Scarlet, more than he ever thought he would – even after he realized how he loved her. Her betrayal hurt him, but somehow, he wished he hadn't kicked her out. He wanted her back, bastard baby or not. But after the way he'd treated her, she wouldn't come. He'd lost the only woman he'd ever loved, and who he'd though could ever love the beast he was.

The long, sharp, animal noise rose into the darkness again.

***

Scarlet adjusted her jeans for the umpteenth time. It was taking some getting used to, wearing pants again. She almost felt exposed. But she hadn't worn a dress since she'd come home three days ago.

"Are you ready, Scary?" Joey poked his head in the guest room. She nodded and pulled on her sweater. "You can wait a few more days, if you want..."

"No, I have to do this before it's too late."

At the hospital, Scarlet hesitated outside the door of her mother's room. She hadn't seen the woman in over two months, and so much had happened since then. Most of the bad things, though, had been Michelle's fault for not telling the truth, and today was her day of reckoning.

Scarlet had a suspicion that her mother would know exactly why she was pregnant. She'd kept so many other secrets to her daughter; a pregnancy would be just another lie she could try to cover up.

"Do you want us to go in with you?" Danny hugged her from behind, while Joey took her hand.

"No, I can do this." She shrugged them off gently and slowly opened the door.

"Annabelle, daughter," Her mother's voice met her ears. It sounded hoarse, tired, old. Scarlet looked back at her friends and they pushed her gently in the door. "It's so good to see you."

"We need to talk, Mother." She sat down beside the bed and looked upon the woman she'd once believed loved her.

Michelle was a withered, gray husk of her former self. Her hair was longer than usual and drab, hanging limply over her shoulders. She had lost so much weight; the expensive bedclothes she wore hung off her emaciated body. Without makeup and her usual perfect copper coif, she looked decades older.

"I've missed you, daughter."

Scarlet looked away, refusing to let her anger be swayed by her sickly, dying mother. It was harsh, but until she knew what was what, it was her only choice. "I'm pregnant."

Michelle's face went through a quick change of emotions. First fear, then hope, and settled on forced, hesitating happiness. "Congratulations, Annabelle. I'm sure you and Lord Alford will be very happy with the baby."

Did Scarlet detect a hint of emphasis when Michelle said 'Lord Alford?' Maybe she was imagining it. "Tell me whose it is, Mother."

"I don't understand," Michelle's wilted, gnarled hands fidgeted with the coverlet on her bed.

Scarlet looked directly at her and spoke slowly and clearly. "You do. You know whose child this is, and whose it isn't."

Michelle looked down guiltily. "I...I..."

"You forced me into a marriage to cover something up. Just like you covered up Father losing me to Don–Lord Alford's father. What happened this time, Mother? Why would you lie to me?"

"I didn't lie...I just didn't tell you the truth," Michelle's voice was petulant, whining, pleading. Scarlet narrowed her dark eyes, pinning her mother in her stare. "You don't understand. I had to do it!"

"Whose is it?" Scarlet almost shouted, but she reined in her anger and lowered her voice. "I deserve to know."

It was a long, tense minute before Michelle nodded. "Bring Lord Alford in. He should know, as well."

"I'm not with him anymore. Tell me." Scarlet blinked tears away for a moment and hardened her gaze again.

"Oh, Annabelle, I'm so sorry. I never meant to hurt you like this," Michelle lapsed into hoarse, body-shaking sobs, but her daughter wasn't moved. Michelle reached for her hands, and Scarlet leaned further back in her chair. The look in Michelle's eyes was wounded, but understanding. She hated to do this to her daughter, and the lies had nothing to do with her; she just wanted to see Scarlet taken care of, after so many bad things. She wanted her daughter to have a good life, after the pain her father had caused. Scarlet sat still until the tears stopped. "Okay, I'll tell you. It was the night of the accident..."

***

"Scary?" Joey burst into her bedroom. "Come on, you have to eat something."

"I'm not hungry." She didn't bother opening her eyes. It had been almost a week since her visit to the hospital; she hadn't left the room since they got back, and she hadn't eaten in a day.

"Get up!" He snapped at her, tugging at her arms. She flopped back as soon as he released her.

"Why bother?"

"For me?"

She sat up, but faltered when she tried to swing her legs over the edge. "I'm sorry, Joey. I can't do it."

"You'll kill your baby."

"And? It's not mine." She didn't hate the baby; she hated the fact that it was in her, and who had put it there. Michelle had revealed so much, it had left Scarlet too stunned to be angry any longer. Now, she was still reeling numbly, and she was glad for that. Any protection and love she'd felt for the baby, before she found out the truth, had faded to almost nothing. There was still that instinct to take care of herself and it, but she forced herself to ignore it.

"Your body is giving it life. It is yours, whether you want it or not. You don't really hate it, do you? You're really in love with it, right?"

She refused to answer his question. "I – I can't get up."

"Dammit, Scarlet!" Joey scooped her up in his arms and sat with her. "You can do this. You know you want it to live, and if you don't think you can raise it on your own, you could always give it up for adoption."

"It's not that easy, Joey."

"The hell it's not. You've got me and Danny to help you. We've told you, you can move in permanently – we *want* you to, in fact. And even if you wanted to move out on your own, you have the means to live comfortably for years."

"I do not."

"Alford's butler sent this for you." He pulled an envelope out of his pocket and opened it when she didn't touch it. "It's a check for three thousand dollars, and bank details."

"Send it back, Joey. I don't want his money."

"There's also a note in here," Joey ignored her and read it aloud.

"'Milady,

I know you don't want this money, or anything from Lord Alford, but please believe me when I say: I want you to take it, for the baby. No matter what Lord Alford, or anyone says, you're a wonderful girl. And, as crazy as it sounds, I believe you that it wasn't your fault, somehow. You don't have to do anything with the account, you can let the money sit until you need it. But this check is from me, personally, and if you don't use it – and I will know – I will be very disappointed in you. 

Go out, buy yourself something nice. Buy something for the baby. You can call me sometime, if you'd like. I have a separate phone. I know I would love to hear from you. But, if you can't, or won't, I hope you know I loved you like a daughter, and the two months you were here were some of the best this house has ever had. I do, however, expect pictures of the pregnancy and baby, when the time comes.

Love, your faithful servant,

Abner.'"

Scarlet reached for the letter and reread it. "Abner was too kind for me."

"Oh, shut up. He was as kind to you as you deserved, and there's nothing you don't deserve."

"Donovan –"

"To hell with what that bastard thinks! If he loved you, he'd at least listen to you, if not believe you."

Scarlet nodded and shakily climbed off of Joey's lap. "Okay, I'll do it. I'll get up, and I'll eat. For you and Danny and Abner. Later, we'll decide about it...the baby."



Beauty--Remastered Ch. 09



My very dear loves...I apologize almost every time I post, and this is no exception. You all have my deepest and sincerest sorries, from the bottom, top and all sides of my heart. First off, Chapter 8 was crap, and I really ought to have worked on it more. I feel awful about that. Second, this chapter took much longer to get on paper than I expected. So much has happened lately, it's been hard to find time to write more than a word here and there. =( I hate excuses, but this one was real.

Thank you to all you absolutely AMAZING and WONDERFUL loves that commented, voted and the couple who sent feedback, even if it was kinda on the down side. You have no idea how awesome it is to get that, unless you are a writer yourself.

This chapter answers a few questions, and, I don't believe it asks any more haha. This chapter is actually one of my favourites for this story, don't know why. Maybe for the reveals?

Little disclaimer: I know next to nothing about medical practices, spy missions, or weapons and I know very very very little French. Sorry for the spoilers, but I'd really prefer you didn't jump down my throat on those bits. If I wanted to write a story that was totally based on any of those three things, believe you me, I'd research my butt off, buuut since it's not the basis, I wrote what I liked.

So, I'll stop boring you, loves, and let you get on with what is probably going to be the second or third to last chapter of this story.

I really hope you enjoy it, and again, thanks for sticking around with confused, irritating little me for so long! You all make me day =)

Love and kisses,

Almostluver 

~Five months later~

Scarlet paced around the perimeter of the house. At just about seven months pregnant, her belly was definitely showing, even in the very loose dresses she'd taken to wearing, and she got nervous whenever she thought about it. Walking calmed her and the baby. Every so often, she'd press her hand against her stomach; and right on cue, the babe would kick, as if reassuring her.

Even though it had been months since he'd thrown her out, Scarlet still craved her husband. They were still married, though all contact between them had stopped that day, but she couldn't bring herself to be the first to send the divorce papers. If he wanted her completely out of his life, he would have to strike the final blow, and he hadn't. Silly as it was, Scarlet took that as a good thing; it gave her hope -- irrational hope, but hope just the same. She tried not to count the days, but it had been exactly one-hundred and fifty-six long, hard, empty days since she had left, and that was far longer than she'd actually been there.

She missed Donovan less when she felt the baby move. She still cried herself to sleep sometimes, and she occasionally had her really bad days where she struggled to get out of her lonely bed; but her child seemed to know, and it would softly move until she drifted off to sleep. Abner called her daily, asking for updates and pictures. She'd sent him copies of her first ultrasound, and pictures of her belly as it expanded. She tried not to ask for info about her husband, in return.

For about a month, she'd seriously considered adoption, now that she knew the truth; but with every change, she loved it a little more, despite everything -- the first time she'd felt it kick, she screamed and chased the guys around the house so they would feel every movement. Joey and Danny were happy -- they had been rooting for keeping the baby the whole time, and sometimes it seemed they were more excited for it than she was. Danny was already working on constructing an extension for the house that was attached to Scarlet's room. Joey had begged for it so he could make that into the nursery, though Scarlet assured them that she wouldn't mind keeping the child in the room with her.

Already her room, the living room, and garage were practically jam packed with all the little odds and ends, furniture, clothing and home improvement supplies Joey was going overboard purchasing. The baby wouldn't even be born for another two months, and  

"Scary, come inside!" Joey rounded the corner of the house and draped his coat over her shoulders. "You'll get sick."

"She's restless."

"You think it's a girl?" He smiled at her. She nodded and took his hand to press it against her stomach. Her baby kicked right on cue. He grinned brightly, like all of them did whenever the little stranger 'acknowledged' them. "Wow, Scary. I guess we'll see soon, won't we?"

"I'll only be out for a bit longer." She hugged Joey before continuing on her walk. "Five minutes, I promise."

"Danny's working on dinner. It will be ready soon. Oh, and I called the hospital, and your mom's expecting us at noon tomorrow."

Scarlet and Michelle were slowly but surely making up, and it was because Joey demanded she visit her mother weekly. He didn't want Michelle to die without Scarlet's forgiveness. To everyone's shock, though, somehow Michelle was still going, though she wasn't quite improving. The doctors couldn't explain how she'd held on for so long, even after getting her "death sentence" months ago. Though she never said it, Scarlet was glad. She had never made real peace with her father, and she wanted her mother to die with that peace. It was, however, very hard to do, given the circumstances. As many times as she tried to say the words, 'I forgive you,' she never managed to get it out. She didn't mean it truthfully, yet.

Even more surprising, Donovan kept up with the hospital bills, even going so far as to find specialists and change her hospital room, to a larger, more comfortable single suite. It was what he had promised, and more. 

Joey went back inside when she rounded the corner. 

As such, he didn't hear her cry of shock as she came face to face with a man from her past. "You!"

"Bon soir, mon cher," The small, pale man murmured, stepping closer. She stepped back quickly, but met with a wall. Looking over her shoulder, Scarlet discovered the wall was actually a tall, dark-skinned man. He leered down the front of her gown and she wrenched her gaze back to the man in front of her. "It has taken some doing, finding you."

"Oh?" She tried to keep her voice from wavering, and all but succeeded. "Why would you be looking for me?"

"I heard you have something that belongs to me."

Scarlet hoped and prayed Joey would come back out, but she knew he probably wouldn't until it was obvious she was gone for too long. "I don't have anything of yours, actually."

"Au contraire, mon cher" his accent, French like she remembered, sent harsh chills up her spine, despite the way the words slid silkily from his nearly lipless mouth. She tried to move back again when his hand reached out to stroke across her protruding belly. For once, while being touched, her baby was very still. "I believe *this* is mine."

"I believe you're wrong." She swung at him, but the behemoth behind her caught her arm and tugged up. She hung there, her feet just barely touching the floor. "Let go of me!"

"Now, now, settle down. Comportez-vous." The small man caressed her cheek. "We are not going to hurt you. I just want what's mine."

"It's not yours! It's my husband's!"

"Ah, tsk, it is not nice to lie, mon cher. Your...husband's doctor is not quite so tight lipped as you would think. Besides that, I have sources. Sources that say that you are not with said 'husband' any longer, because *that*..." he looked down at her stomach again, and she covered it with her free hand. "Is not his."

"Your sources are wrong."

"And the tests? Are they wrong as well, mon amour?" Somehow, he knew that she'd had dna tests done on her baby, when she didn't believe her mother's tale.

"Scary?" Danny's voice came around the corner and she jumped. "Come inside for dinner. You know what Joey will say if you don't eat."

She felt the giant behind her shift, and suddenly prayed that Danny wouldn't turn that corner of the house. She opened her mouth to stop him, but the smaller man slapped his hand over her mouth.

She still managed a scream as Daniel came into view, a split second before there was a soft pop from beside her, and a small cloud of smoke. Danny's face showed surprise, then pain as he collapsed, blood staining the left side of his shirt. He struggled to sit up, but only managed to rise up on one arm before going limp. She stared between the still smoking, silenced handgun in the large man's hand, and her friend.

"Dammit, Lefou!" The pale man yanked on Scarlet's arm. "Did I not tell you to leave the gun? I said no violence! Let us go! Rapidement!"

Scarlet's eyes were glued to Danny's limp body. Tears coursed down her cheeks, and she couldn't fight when the big man hoisted her up into his arms and started hurrying away. She twisted and writhed in his arms, and almost slipped out of them. A hand came into view, pressing syringe to her arm. She felt a quick sting of the needle entering her. She went limp almost instantly, though she struggled to keep her eyes open. They were at a car now, bundling her into the backseat, and the last thing her eyes saw before everything went dark, was Joey collapsing on his prone lover.

***

"Is Alford here?" Joey's face was haggard. Abner let him in immediately, remembering his face and sensing an urgency, despite the quiet tone he had used. "It's important."

Donovan stalked out of the library, where he'd taken to hiding in. It was one of the last places Scarlet had gone into happily. Joey stared up at him in shock. He'd lost so much weight, and his hair was unkempt. A ratty, dirty beard had sprouted over his chin, marring his dark good looks. Even Joey, who hated this man for what he had done for his best friend, could admit that once Donovan had been extremely hot, though he'd barely seen him months ago. Now, however, he just looked haggard, terrible.

"What do you want?" His voice was cold and hoarse.

"Scarlet's gone."

Abner gasped and Donovan stepped back, shocked, but he recovered quickly. "What does that have to do with me?"

Joey gaped at him, as did Abner. "Not a damn thing, except she's your wife."

"Was."

"As I recall, neither of you filed for divorce."

Donovan didn't have a reply for that. He looked down and stalked back into the library. "Leave my house." The door banged shut behind him.

"Come with me," Abner gestured for Joey to follow him. They stopped in the kitchen and Abner bustled about, setting out a tray for coffee. "Now, what do you mean she's gone?"

"She was taken yesterday." Joey slumped in a stool at the table. "Right from our home. My --" he choked a moment. "My partner was shot."

Abner nearly dropped the coffeepot when he tried to fill Joey's cup. "Your partner?"

"Well, yeah. I'm gay - didn't Scary tell you?"

Abner shook his head. "Oh dear. I'm afraid my master thinks you are...he believes Miss Scarlet and you..."

"He thinks I'm Scarlet's lover? Is that why he won't help? Does he think I'm the father, as well?" He didn't wait for Abner to answer. Slamming the mug down, he stormed back into the hallway and found the library after a quick search. The doors crashed open with a bang and Joey was faced with a crying, irate Donovan. The taller man turned his back.

"I told you to get out." His voice was rough with tears, and the straight, rigid way he held himself made Joey pause. Everything about him, down to his posture screamed of the pain he was in. But he was too goddamn stubborn to do anything about that pain, and the sympathy Joey had been feeling evaporated.

"And I told you your wife, who you love and loves you -- god knows why -- is missing! Are you going to do anything about that, you motherfucking bastard?" Joey's pitch skyrocketed till he was all but screaming at Donovan.

Donovan stalked toward him and shoved him against the wall. "She is not my wife!" His arm settled across Joey's throat, cutting off his air. "Why don't you take care of it, if you're so damn worried about her?"

"I...need...help." Joey wheezed. "I don't...I don't know where she is."

"How do you know she didn't just run off? Hmm? Maybe she got tired of you, moved on to bigger and better things."

"I'm her best friend. She wouldn't just leave."

Donovan's hold loosened, but just barely. "You're her best friend? And the father? What happened -- were you two just experimenting or was this a plan all along?"

"I'm not the father! I am, in fact, very gay, and with someone already. Even if I was the father, I wouldn't let her marry you to cover it up."

After a long moment, Donovan set him down and stepped back. "If you're not it, who is? God, does she even know?" His tone was hateful.

Joey massaged his sore throat. "Sit down. You need to hear this. Scarlet should have told you when she found out, but she was too stubborn to talk to you, even though she loved and missed you. And I don't blame her. You were an ass." Donovan stepped toward him, but Joey didn't back down. "Sit down!"

Donovan hesitated, but he finally slumped into one of the big chairs. Joey took one across from him. "What?"

"Scarlet was raped."

"She was what?" Donovan sat up urgently. How had that never even crossed his mind? Because she acted as if everything was a first for her, even down to the kissing? Because she hadn't showed any signs of distress when he touched her?

"The night of the accident, her father took her out for dinner. After dinner, they stopped at a bar, and her dad went in. While he was in there, Scarlet was taken from the car...and a man raped her. Mr. Lennox had used her to pay off another gambling debt that would have ruined them. Again. He couldn't afford to lose what little money he still had, not with Michelle's illness, so he gambled away his own daughter's virginity." Joey tried to keep calm, but his eyes still filled with tears, and his voice shook with anger at Scarlet's dead father.

"That man, the father of her child, was the only one who touched her, so it's definitely his -- she got a DNA test, anyway, after she found out. She...she didn't remember, because the accident on the way home. It totally wiped her memory -- the doctors said that the shock and mental trauma of that night, coupled with the head trauma she had in the accident, is probably what made her forget everything so completely, but they thought she would remember eventually. When she woke up, the doctors questioned her, and she remembered dinner, and driving home, and the accident. The hours between dinner and the crash hadn't happened, in her mind.

Michelle decided not to tell anyone, especially Scarlet. She thought she was doing the right thing. That's why she wanted you two to get married so quickly. Not so that Scarlet would be taken care of when she died; but so that you could have sex and if she ended up pregnant, nobody would question it. Scarlet wasn't even out of the hospital before she called you, you know."

Donovan was shaking. It hadn't been his darling Scarlet's lie. She hadn't known whose child it was at all. And she hadn't had sex with anyone. In her mind, she was still a virgin. He remembered her insistence that it was true, as if she believed it herself. She had no reason not to.

"Who told you this?"

"Scarlet heard from her mom, finally. She told me. And Michelle heard it from their old driver, before he died in the hospital. There are hospital records that show she was raped that night."

"Who has Scarlet?"

Joey pulled a paper out of his pocket and glanced at it. "His name's Gaston Bonnet. He --"

"I know him," Donovan jumped up with a growl. He stalked to the door. "Abner!" The butler appeared immediately. "Call Michael. We're going to need his particular set of skills." He turned back to Joseph. "Come with me."

***

Joey was absolutely flabbergasted. In the time it took Donovan to clean up and shave, Abner had amassed a veritable army downstairs in the library. Over a dozen, big hulking men had set up shop there, filling it to bursting with computers, papers and more guns than Joey had ever seen. One normal-sized man was tucked away in a corner, speaking into a headpiece and tapping away on a laptop furiously.

Everybody stopped and stood when Donovan walked into the room, Joey and Abner right behind him. Donovan appeared to look around the room. He stalked forward, while the men parted around him. He stopped before the smallest man and sat down. The others took seats as well.

"What do you have, Michael?"

The little man looked down at his screen again. "I apologize for not having known that Bonnet was in the country again, sir. My sources had confirmed him in France just a --"

"That doesn't matter now, Michael. He's here, now. And I want to know what you have on him that I can use." Donovan wasn't stern, but his voice was very calm, very serious.

"He's staying in one of his houses -- the newer villa outside Somerset. I haven't figured out how he got here without any detection, yet. Your doctor, s-sir --" He jumped at Donovan's low growl. "Somehow, Bonnet found out, and questioned your doctor. He's dead, sir."

"Gentlemen," Donovan turned to the other members of the room. "My wife was kidnapped yesterday by Gaston Bonnet. She is six months pregnant with his child."

Joey could feel the surprise running through the room, though nobody moved a muscle or said a word. He glanced around again; every single eye in the room was fixed steadily on Donovan. He wasn't the tallest or biggest, but the way he sat in his chair, with his hands gripping the arm rests, his blind gaze direct and focused, made him their leader. The fact that he paid their salaries probably helped, Joey thought. But not by much. There was a real loyalty here in these men, one that money had nothing to do with.

"We are going to get her back, and we are going to take out Bonnet, for good this time. I do not want that bastard coming back for my wife and her child again. Am I clear?" A quick chorus of 'yes sir' met Donovan's ears. He nodded. "Good. Now, Kevin," He turned to the largest man. "You're on tactic. I want our ways in and out down in an hour. Arthur, Robert and Carl, weapons. Silent, deadly. Guns, with silencers. Knives. Anything else you can pack on without slowing you down."

"If I may, sir," One of the men he'd named stood up and brought forth a small, intricate-looking handgun. He handed it to Donovan, who ran his hands over it carefully while the man explained what he was holding. "This is all new, sir. We put this together, because your jobs usually require stealth. It's a modified machine pistol. As you can feel, they're extremely light, and very streamlined. The silencer is built in, so there's no need to remember one. Reloading takes three seconds -- just pop this button here, drop the empty clip and pop in a new one. The clip holds upward of two-score bullets - the bullets are tiny," here, he dug a little ball, the size of a pea, out of his pocket and passed it to his boss. "But they pack a punch. See, the bullets are tiny bombs -- Carl thought of it. They're completely harmless, until they're ejected from the gun. I won't bore you with the specifics, yet, but the gun and the machinery have a chemical reaction that sets the 'timer,' as it were. They take less than a second to detonate after contact, and the resulting explosion is small, but critical. One of these bullets in the right place could down a tiger in split seconds, sir."

Donovan passed the gun back. "Very good, you three. See that everybody is equipped with two of them, and extra clips. We don't know how many men Bonnet has this time." He turned to Kevin who had called him over to a table spread with maps and all sorts of gadgets and gizmos. "Abner, refreshments, please."

Abner gestured to a shocked and slightly scared-looking Joey. "Come on, you can help me." They went back to the kitchen, and Abner searched through the pantry for eatables. "Want to tell me what happened yesterday?"




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 09



"She was outside, just walking because her back was hurting. I went out there less than five minutes before she was taken, and she was perfectly fine. I should have stayed with her, but she promised to come in for dinner. Danny, my partner, went out to get her, and he was shot while they got away."

"How is he?"

"He'll make it. He's already out of intensive care. Luckily the bullet didn't hit anything critical, just his shoulder, mostly. He made me come up here to speak to Alford -- I didn't want to leave him.

"Would you like to call him? I'm sure he'd love to hear from you." Ever helpful, Abner showed Joey the phone hidden in the pantry. Then he left with the food, giving Joey some privacy.

"Hi, babe." He said when Danny answered.

Danny's voice was tired, the doctors still had him on medication. "Hey. How's it going? Did you beat some sense into Alford?"

"All-but." Joey smiled sadly. "I had to tell him, about the baby. It was the only way he'd help."

"You did the right thing, babe."

"I know. God, Danny, you should see the guys he's got working for him! They're all at least twice my size. And the guns! Whew! They made a gun, Danny. It's freaking scary!"

"Should I be worried?" Danny joked, though his voice was tight.

"Stupid." Joey replied, smirking. "You sound exhausted. Maybe you should get some rest. I'll call you when something happens."

"Okay," Danny stifled a yawn. "Be careful, Joey. I want you home, safe and sound, when this is over. And don't you dare go on that manhunt. If you get hurt, Alford won't know what hit him."

"Okay, I'll stay here." It was a lie, but it must have been convincing, because Danny sighed and muttered 'good.' "I love you, Daniel."

"I love you too, Joseph."

There was no way in hell Joey was staying cooped up in Alford's house while his best friend was in danger. Besides, he had a score to settle with the big guy Bonnet had brought along. Nobody shot his partner and lived.

***

Scarlet's head ached. Between the steady succession of drugs Bonnet had kept her hazy with, and the long car ride where she'd lain bound on the floor of the car, she was bruised and exhausted. Now she was in a bed, with her eyes closed tightly. There had been a few moments where she'd been almost lucid, and they had fed her and let her relieve herself, but those seemed far between, and almost like a dream. She wasn't hungry, though, so they must have fed her, and recently.

She didn't know how long it had been since Gaston Bonnet had taken her, didn't know where she was. She tried not to worry too much about Danny, but it was impossible; she started as soon as she was conscious. She hoped and prayed he was alright. That the bullet hadn't done too much damage. That the paramedics got there quickly.

Her baby kicked at her, and she opened her eyes. The room she was in was very plain. A bare bulb hung down from the ceiling above her, illuminating the small room starkly. There was no furniture in the room, besides the small bed, and a table beside it. A pitcher and glass sat on a tray there. There were no windows, and only one steel door set in the pale gray walls.

Scarlet sat up carefully, her head spinning. Sliding over to the table, she reached for the pitcher. She could risk it being drugged; if it was, she would, hopefully, simply pass out for a few more hours. At least then, her head would stop aching. As she moved, something pulled at her throat; she lifted her hand and felt the object. A metallic collar was enclosed around her throat, with a chain lead attached to a ring in the wall behind her bed. She pulled at it, but it didn't budge. She was stuck in this tiny little room. She couldn't get to the door if she tried.

Before she could lift the cup to her parched lips, the door swung open and Bonnet sauntered into the room. He sat on the foot of her bed, and shook his head when she scooted away from him.

"How are you feeling, mon cher?"

Scarlet looked away, refusing to answer him. When he didn't say anything else, she glanced back at him out of the corner of her eye, and found him staring fixedly at her belly. She covered it with her hands, protectively.

"I was so surprised when I was told you were bearing my child, Annabelle." He said softly. "You see, my doctors had told me, long ago, probably before you were even born, that I could never have children." His hand reached for her round belly, but she shied away from him. "You do not know quite what it is like, being a papa so suddenly."

"I think I do." She spat.

"Oh, that's right. You...didn't know...did you? I had heard reports, of your accident. I have sources everywhere, chèri. Since I am...impotent, for lack of a better word, I did not care what happened to you. You were a simple dalliance. You understand? One of the best maidens I have ever had the pleasure of deflowering, do not get me wrong. But, once that debt was paid, I was fini. You meant nothing to me beyond that. And now...all my dreams have come true. I have a child."

"It's not yours -- it's mine!"

"For the time being, yes."

Something in the way he said that made her blood run cold. "What are you saying?"

"You are nearly far enough along, mon cher. My doctors will examine you today. They will determine if the bébé is developed enough to be removed."

She jerked away from him. "What the fuck are you talking about?"

"I employ the absolute best physicians, Annabelle. They will determine if the child will survive the Caesarean section, or if we will have to keep you until the end of your pregnancy. Frankly, I am rather hoping for the former. Much faster."

"You're not taking my child away from me!"

"You do not have a choice, chèri." He stood. "They will be in within the hour. Drink your water, you are probably dehydrated. I cannot have my child unhealthy due to its mother's neglect."

She threw the glass at him as he left, hitting the doorjamb beside his head. Damn! If her hands hadn't been shaking so badly, she could have nailed him hard enough to knock him out. He simply shook his head at her again and pulled the door closed behind him. Scarlet burst into tears and slumped on her bare mattress, cradling her rapidly palpitating belly.

***

"Absolutely not!" Donovan barred the front door, where Joey was trying to get through to join the small army in the courtyard.

"Why the hell not?" Joey snapped back, pushing at Donovan and receiving a hard shove backwards that sent him to the ground. Abner rushed to help him up, but he simply shrugged him off and kept at it.

"I won't have my wife's best friend injured. Besides, you don't have any training. Have you ever even touched a gun before?"

"Yes, I have, thank you very much! I have as much right to be there as you do -- more, even! I'm not blind! And she actually likes me! I need to be there when you get her out."

Donovan stopped him again. "You are not going, Joseph, and that's final. Abner, keep him here, will you?"

Abner pulled an irate and struggling Joey away from his master. "Yes, sir." The door slammed behind Donovan. "Now, Master Joseph, come with me."

"No!"

"I can get you on a van. But you must be quiet until it's too late for him to send you back, do you understand? Lord Alford will have both our heads for this." Abner led him through the house, and to the kitchen. Joey began protesting, till Abner fixed him with a sharp glare. "Hush. Do you want to help Miss Scarlet or not? Now, come with me, and be silent."

Joey followed him meekly around the massive kitchen. They entered a long hallway and hurried down it to a small door in the side. This led them into another hallway, which in turn led them outside. Joey glanced around; they were just behind the last big, black SUV. Abner motioned for him to be silent and they sprinted to the back doors. Abner peeked around the side. The other men were standing near the lead van, going over last minute details.

"Get in. You stay down until they stop. I'm sure Lord Alford will be in the front car, so you don't have to worry about him finding you." Joey opened his mouth to argue, but Abner shushed him again. "He can do it, even though he's blind. Stop arguing, you're wasting time." Abner pulled open the door for him. "You make sure Miss Scarlet is safe for me, will you? Her and that baby."

Joey nodded once and slid into the back, ducking behind a crate. The door shut behind him, and he was alone. It didn't last long. Mere seconds later, the front doors opened and the SUV dipped when the agents climbed in. The car rumbled to life beneath him, and he bumped his head on a box when it jerked into motion.

What have I gotten myself into? Joey wondered, settling himself in for what he was sure would be a long ride.

***

Donovan shifted restlessly. They had been driving for hours. The interior of the car was silent as the men rested or reexamined their small weapons or papers. Even the driver, the man called Kevin, didn't speak. Every so often, Michael would call with updated information, or one of them other men would call in to ask a question. Those interruptions, though, were few and far between and getting worse the longer they drove. 

Occasionally he almost wished he had allowed Joey to tag along. Even if the man hated him, at least he'd be entertaining.

Without even the scenery to distract him from his thoughts, he let his mind run over everything that he now knew about his trouble-magnet of a wife. She had been gambled away twice in her life. She had been raped. She had been lied to by her own mother. And now, she was missing, along with her unborn child.

Donovan had no doubts that the baby was the sole reason Annabelle had been taken; if Bonnet had wanted her before, he could have had her months ago. Now, he knew, it was just a matter of time before Bonnet figured out a way to get the baby. And when he did, Scarlet would become useless, and an expendable -- a factor Bonnet would not hesitate to eliminate. Even if Donovan succeeded in rescuing her and she didn't want to be with him, he'd be grateful that she was at least alive.

When it came to the baby, he realized, he felt differently about it, now that he knew its origin. He hated its father, loved its mother, and to him, the baby was more of its mother. He didn't love the thing, but he would try to accept it if it could bring his wife back to him.

Could he bring her back safely? He knew they could. But could he bring her home, to his home, after the things he had said and done?

The last five months had been hell. At first, he had been angry. Abner had been furious when he had destroyed the library on the second day, followed by the first room Donovan had let her stay in when she first came to stay with him. Almost every single room she'd been in suffered. Abner had gotten into the habit of locking all of the empty rooms and carrying the keys with him at all times.

After the first month, Donovan had calmed enough that the precautions weren't necessary and they could start repairing the house. That had taken another month, and he threw himself into it so he wouldn't think about her too often. Month number three had been spent mostly up in his studio, working feverishly to fill the room with likenesses of her, likenesses he couldn't see. That's also when the weight loss had begun. The fourth month had been the hardest. He'd found out that Abner had kept up contact with her when Donovan ventured into the kitchen on his own and found an envelope that smelled of her. That day, he went back into the library, and almost hadn't left it for the remainder of the time. He'd even taken to sleeping in it, curled up on the too-small couch he'd laid her on when she fell. 

He could have called her a million times, asked her back, or at least talked to her. He'd picked up the phone at least half that many times. At first, his reason for not calling was he didn't know the number. But Abner made sure he knew it soon. Then he tried to convince himself that she wouldn't answer him, or Joseph would not give her the phone. It still didn't keep him from lifting the phone from its cradle several times daily.

He was a coward.

Not anymore, though. He had a new determination for his wife. The fact that he was going to get her even boosted his energy. He was raring to get started, to find her and bring her back. To apologize, and kiss her and hold her. And then make love to her hard and fast until she screamed, to make up for the time they'd lost.

***

Scarlet blinked under the harsh fluorescent lighting in the exam room. Bonnet's doctors had wheeled her in hours ago. She lost track of time, after the relentless pokes and jabs and needles, and machines beeping incessantly. Even now, a heart rate monitor beeped almost steadily and very loudly in the room. When they were done, the doctors had left her in the room without a word.

She'd been laying, bound, hand, waist and foot, to a gurney, ever since. The baby rolled in her stomach, keeping her at least somewhat calm. She glanced down at her bare body. There was only a thin paper sheet covering her breasts and another over her groin. Her pale stomach rose above the sheet over her chest. She could almost see the small movements made by the baby, the pulses and bumps where it connected with her belly. Scarlet longed to place her hands there, feel it beneath her fingers. That had always calmed her, and she couldn't reach it with her hands bound straight by her sides.

"You do look quite lovely, chèrie" Bonnet walked in with his entourage of five masked and gloved doctors and two huge body guards, . He leaned over her while the doctors busied themselves around the room, programming and adjusting the machinery. "Do you know what they decided, my love?" She didn't answer. "Your baby is perfectly healthy, it could survive the removal process. They are confident that it will also survive being premature."

"Are you insane?" She pulled at her bonds, but all that happened was the flimsy paper covering her waist slid down. Bonnet's eyes dropped low. Scarlet squirmed, trying to twist her legs at least a little to give herself some sort of cover, but her legs were too far apart. His hand settled on the top of her thigh. "Get the fuck off of me!"

"Leave us," he ignored her, and his voice was lustful. The others in the room darted outside and the door slammed behind them. "I did not tell you, mon cher," He trailed his fingers aimlessly over her skin. "My doctors have been instructed that you will not live through the operation."

"I thought you said it was safe!"

"Ah, for the bèbe, yes. Very safe. You will have no further use for me, and I would not want you causing any trouble for me and the child. It is much simpler to just be done with you afterwards."

"You're going to kill me."

"Yes, of course. But first..." He pulled the paper from her chest. "I see nothing wrong with having a little fun. It would be a shame to waste this...lovely body of yours." He climbed onto the table with her, straddling her waist, carefully avoiding resting any weight on her distended belly. She was perfectly still beneath him. "I have heard that lovemaking is safe, right up to the birth."

Scarlet closed her eyes when she heard the tell-tale zip of his slacks. He shuffled above her, his clothes rustling as he removed them. She still didn't fight him, and he caressed her hair gently.

"Open your pretty eyes, chèri." When she didn't, his hand flashed across her face and her eyes flew open with shock. "That is better." His fingers gently rubbed the sting in to her cheek. "I want you to see me."

She didn't blink when his slobbery, almost lipless mouth settled on the cool skin of her neck. Didn't bat an eyelash when his hands settled on her breasts, pinching and twisting her nipples. She stared straight ahead when he moved down into position.

But she screamed when he plunged into her dry body in several 'gentle' thrusts.

Even though he was a little less than average in the size department, Scarlet wasn't wet enough for him to do much, and he kept pulling out to drip some saliva on his shaft. He worked her clit, sucked her tender nipples, stroked all over her body, but she didn't get any more aroused. He even tried going down on her, and she squirmed uncomfortably against his tongue -- not at all pleasurable like Donovan's, it seemed -- but even that moisture was short-lived.

He was trying to be gentle, trying not to hurt the baby. She still flinched and whimpered every time he moved. Briefly, she tried to think of something, anything that would turn her on just a little bit, so it wouldn't hurt so much; but even the memories of Donovan's lovemaking couldn't fight through the pain and horror of the rape.

"Hush, Chèrie," Bonnet kissed her on the mouth, and she jerked her head away. "Relax, it will be so much easier."

"Get off, you fucking bastard--" She lost her voice when he pulled out again to remoisten her aching core. It did nothing to help, and she screamed when he reentered her, harder than before. Something tore, she could feel it, and at last, there was a small amount of lasting slickness. She was relieved, even though she knew it was her own blood that was easing the way.

He slapped her again. "Shut up!" Her head slammed against the table, hard. Between the pain below her waist and the pain in her face and head, her eyes began to water, and tears dripped down her face. He didn't notice, until a hard thrust pushed a soft sob out of her chest. "Oh, chèri, do not cry." Bonnet leaned down and licked the water away. His naked hips slid against hers, his skin clammy to the touch. "You should take pleasure in this one last intimate act between us."

She spat in his face, the only thing she could do with her hands and legs bound and his weight on top of hers. He pulled out of her suddenly, so quickly a sharp pain speared through her. She choked back a third scream. He climbed down from the table and rustled around on the tables his doctors had set up.

Her relief was short-lived. He turned back with a needle brandished at her. "You made me do this, Annabelle." The needle plunged into her arm, and she felt the effects within seconds. First, her arm went numb and it spread through the rest of her body quickly. Her eyelids began dragging when he climbed back onto her. She felt the pain of his entrance again, and her discomfort escaped in a whimper that cut off as she completely lost consciousness.

***

"Sir?" Kevin stopped the car. "We're here."

"Right," Donovan jumped out of the car and stayed where he was till Kevin came around to lead him into the hotel they'd chosen as their command post.

It was only a few minutes' drive from Bonnet's house, plus Donovan owned it. The manager had already emptied it of guests, leaving Donovan and his crew with free run of the place. Donovan settled into the manager's office while he waited for the men to unload the vans. This was going to be a quick, easy mission. He could almost smell Scarlet's skin already.

"Sir," One of the guys approached him, dragging a struggling, cursing Joey behind him. "We found him hiding in the last van."

Donovan sighed. "There's nothing I can do now. And obviously trying to keep him here at the hotel won't work. Give him a gun and keep a close eye on him." He fixed Joey under his sharp blind gaze. "I don't want any trouble from you. We're getting Scarlet back, like you asked. Now, if you're going to come, you follow orders, stay with us at all times. Bonnet's men are dangerous, and he's smart. If you get separated from your group, and he finds you, he will exploit you as a weakness -- even kill you if it's necessary. I don't want to have to worry about keeping you alive, when I'm supposed to be focusing on him. You cause any problems, and I will personally hogtie you in the van until we get out of there. Do I make myself clear?"




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 09



His voice was so deadly, Joey withered. "Yes, sir."

"Sit down with me. You'll just be in the way."

The rest of unpacking and setting up went uneventfully. Joey watched a high-tech looking array of computers and communications devices being set up in the lobby at an alarming rate.

Michael took control as soon as it was done. He plopped down in the middle of the humming, electric mess and glanced over everything critically. Finally, he nodded. "Ready, sir."

"Good." Donovan stood up. "Men, get ready. I want everybody armed in ten minutes. Michael's got the comm, here. Michael, when we reach his land, you'll guide us in. We don't want to be slowed down looking at maps, if we have to change direction. You will have all entrances and exits covered. Kevin has them already laid out."

"Yes, sir." Michael was already busily typing away on his computer. "I can get a 3D simulation up and running by the time you get there, so I can track you. Too bad, I won't be able to see any obstacles, without cameras in there, but if any come up, I can get you in and out in a flash."

Donovan slowly stalked to a table loaded with weapons and selected one of the special guns. He slid a cartridge into it with a snap. "Let's go get my wife."

 

*French Translations*

Bon soir = Good evening.

Mon cher/chèri = My dear/darling

Au contraire = On the contrary

Comportez-vous = Behave yourself

Rapidement! = Quickly!

Fini = finished



Beauty--Remastered Ch. 10



Dear Lovely Readers,

After trials and tribulations, I'm back. So very sorry to have been gone so long, but I had things to deal with, one after the other. And I tried writing, honest I did. But nothing I've written, this or anything else, has progressed much in the past few months.

And, for those of you who told me my last chapter was crap and I should give up writing, thank you! I appreciate those words. Reading them, usually sent to my email ANONYMOUSLY, of course, just made me want to keep going. Sure, my last chapter and probably this one have things wrong, but it's my brain. Don't read it if you don't like it, it's that simple.

To the lovely, WONDERFUL readers who begged me to continue, YOU GUYS ARE AMAZING! I love you all very much and I hope I never have trouble like this again, so I don't disappoint you. This one only has another chapter or two till the end, and I'm considering new fairy tales to remake. Any suggestions? 

Love and kisses,

Almostluver! 

***

Joey was terrified.

When they first arrived at the huge, impressive, slightly terrifying old mansion that was Bonnet's home, it had been eerily quiet. He'd been half expecting dozens of men to come pouring through the black gates as they pulled up just short of them and piled out. They kept away from what Kevin explained was the reach of the security cameras, and trekked around for nearly half an hour to a small door built into the heavy, wrought iron fence. Funnily enough, there were no cameras around the gate. To Joey, that just screamed trouble. It was too simple.

The team had murmured among themselves for a moment, and every one of them did a quick, almost nervous, check of their weapons, from the various guns to the array of knives they kept tucked into belts strung around their beefy bodies.

Donovan had even deigned to give Joey another gun and a long, wicked looking hunting knife. 'No chances,' he growled, caressing his own gun. It was a mystery to Joey why Donovan had it in the first place; he couldn't see, he might end up shooting one of his own men. Their enemies knew who he was, and they knew that he was blind, so he couldn't bluff. His men didn't seem too concerned, though; they quickly and silently followed their fearless, determined leader through the grounds.

Something buzzed in Joey's ear, making him jump and spin around with his gun raised, but it was just Michael giving them directions to a tunnel around the side of the house. Kevin smacked Joey upside the head gently and tugged him along, silently reprimanding him for his panic.

The journey into the house was surprisingly, and disturbingly easy. Nobody tried to stop them -- nobody was there to stop them. They were all tense, and cautious. The old tunnel was wet and dark, and Joey slid several times in the mud, and ran into the walls often, but eventually Kevin pushed him along with a huge hand at the back of his neck.

"Sir," Michael's voice filled the silence. "There's a door coming up. After that, two hallways. It would be best to split up the team. Finding Mrs. Alford will be faster that way."

"Thank you, Michael." Donovan rapped out in a quiet, brusque tone. His hand met the damp door and he gently turned the knob. One of the men crept up beside him, gun ready. Donovan pushed it open quietly, easing it gently through the creaks and groans the others could hardly hear, and the other man leapt through the door, prepared to shoot.

A moment later, he signaled for them to move, and they spilled into the empty hallway. It appeared they were in an older, unused, long neglected corridor. Dust billowed under their shuffling feet, and the walls were undecorated and covered with torn, faded paper. There were no lights, and a couple of the men switched on low flashlights. None of the rooms they peeked in contained furniture, or even carpet; the very first few had hard dirt floors and no windows.

"Right, Kevin, you take a team to the right, and I'll go left with the rest." Donovan waited for Kevin to select his men, and started off ahead of his group.

"Come on," Kevin growled at Joey when he hesitated at the back of their group.

Everybody was on high alert. It was much too quiet. Bonnet's men could be anywhere in this huge, strange mansion. Michael had his hands full tracking and directing both teams separately, and they had to wait once or twice for him to finish with the other group and move on to them. The halls were long and twisting, and it all looked the same. They had entered on the bottom floor, most likely the basement, and they slowly made their way up. Nobody approached them, even when they made it to the floors that seemed inhabited.

"Where is everybody?" Joey chanced a whisper, wincing as it echoed hollowly, and Kevin shushed him promptly.

"He's right, you know," One of the others muttered when they stopped in a small alcove on the third floor. "Something's up. Bonnet wouldn't kidnap the boss' wife without a shitload of backup."

"I know," Kevin glanced down the hall in both ways, fingering the massive knife on his well laden belt. He pressed a button on his comm device. "Boss, anything happening?"

"No," Donovan's deep growl filled everyone's ears, and they all subconsciously stood a little straighter. "I don't like it. We're getting to more used areas, now, men. Keep alert, and be careful. There's a chance he's expecting us, and just waiting for us to show. Michael?"

"Sir?" The young man peeped up.

"Work us closer together."

"Will do, sir."

They all, with the exception of their navigator, fell silent again and moved on. There were more rooms now, and they took them in teams of two, darting into each for a few seconds and then rejoining the group. It was a quick, effective way to rule out the rooms.

"Movement, up ahead," Donovan murmured. "I can hear it."

"Us too," Kevin and the others readied their guns. Joey followed suit, nervously. "Mister Joseph, sir, stay directly behind me."

It happened too quickly for any orders to be given. Two men at the front of the group fell immediately as bullets flew toward them from unseen assailants. They fired back, retreating down the hall to one of the rooms they had passed. The gunfire stopped and they barred the door with an armoire

"They got Scotty and Dean, sir." Kevin brushed blood off a small wound where a bullet had just barely grazed his arm.

"Dammit! We're all good, here, but they've got us pinned in a room." Donovan growled over the sound of bullets. Strangely, his voice rose above the noise, though his tone was no louder than it ever was.

Joey pulled his earpiece from his ear, escaping the noise for a few moments. His hands were trembling, and he clenched them together. "What are we going to do?"

One of the men cracked the door open an inch against the cupboard and peeked out. "It's quiet out here." As if on cue, a single bullet struck the heavy wooden door. Everything was silent again when it closed.

Joey started pacing, though the other men were still and waiting for a plan. "What are they doing? Why did they stop?"

"Would you like to go out there and ask them?" The man who'd checked, Anthony, laid his hand on the door like he'd open it. Joey sputtered and stepped up to him.

"Quiet." Kevin muttered from the corner of the room. He stared up at a small vent, and then looked at Joey. "There are no screws on these grates; I bet we could get it open easy. You could fit in there."

"Are you insane?" Joey snapped back, backing away.

"Mikey, do you think you could chance leading him through the vents? If you can get him near the boss, he could take out the guys in the way, and they could come get us out of here."

"Are you insane?" Joey repeated.

"Do you want to find your friend or not?" Kevin rounded on him. "We need to get out of here, and it's not going to happen with us pinned here. You've got a gun. Take another if you need to. Going out that door is suicide, and you alone could fit in the vents."

All of two minutes later, Joey found himself in the dark, dusty, cramped vents, wriggling along on his elbows. It was very warm and close in there, and he was distinctly glad he wasn't incredibly claustrophobic. Michael murmured tentative directions; the vents split off in so many directions. He felt like a secret agent -- except a whole hell of a lot less glam. In movies, there was exciting, intense music, and the crawls lasted for mere minutes and were easy and the vents weren't coated in dust an inch thick.

"This is bullshit," he muttered to himself, forgetting that everybody could hear him.

"Be glad you're not me." Michael chuckled. "Half the time, it's me up in those little tunnels, but I have extra gear."

"Shut it, Mikey," Kevin murmured. Michael giggled and quieted down.

Joey's interest was piqued. But he said nothing for the moment and continued struggling in the tight space.

"You should be near a room a few doors down from the boss. Do you see any openings or grates?" Michael broke the silence a few minutes later.

Joey slid down the tunnel and peeked into the room on the other side of the grating. It was empty, so he slid himself around, with difficulty, and kicked it open. It made a harsh bump when it hit the ground below and he waited for a few minutes in case anybody came running. When no one did, he carefully slid feet first out of the vent and dropped into the room below. Drawing one of his guns, he crept to the door and peeked out. The halls were silent and he left the room.

"They're just down the left hallway. Be careful, Joseph." Michael said.

His feet echoed, or so he imagined, while he tiptoed down the hall. There were faint rustling and murmurs ahead of him. His pulse raced, and he paused to wipe the sweat from his gun-totting hand. This was crazy, possibly suicide.

Joey stopped when he was close enough to pick out individual voices. They were speaking what he guessed was French, and he readied his gun and glanced around the corner.

The first man in his sight fell with a bullet in his back. In the time it took for the other four men in the enemy group to turn, another was down, though Joey's hand had been shaking too hard to make it a good clean kill shot.

Their leader shouted something and two began firing their machine guns in his direction, while the leader lifted the wounded man and they all started retreating down the corridor.

Joey waited for the guns to stop before he followed, stepping carefully over the downed man without looking. He might have been dead, he might have been unconscious. Joey could live without finding out, and simply pretend he was still breathing. The dark stain spreading rapidly over the carpet wasn't too serious, he reasoned. Some areas bled more rapidly than others, that's all. Even so, he had to force himself to stay calm. 

When he set out to help Donovan rescue Scarlet, he hadn't realized that he might have to kill some people to do it.

Some of the bullets from the first salvo had come incredibly close, a couple even embedding themselves in the wall across from where he'd stuck his head out. That was too close to comfort, and after they rescued Scarlet, he doubted he'd ever even be able glance at another gun without panicking. His heart was racing so fast, he almost expected it to burst at any minute.

"Okay, they're right next to you." Michael said suddenly, startling Joey so he fumbled with the gun in his hands. "Boss, Joseph's reached you. You can come out now."

"Good man, Joseph." Donovan patted his shoulder once he and the men emerged from the room they'd been trapped in.

"That was too easy," Joey muttered, glancing down the hall in the direction their assailants had taken.

"I agree. I have a feeling they're just toying with us. Let's go get the others, and we'll stick together this time. It'll take longer, but I don't want this to happen again."

They approached the other group with caution, much like the way Joseph had; but when they neared the door, they were shocked to find that the foes keeping them pinned in the room were nowhere to be found. The men in their group exited the room when they were given the 'all clear.'

"I don't understand it, boss," Kevin muttered to Donovan before they set out again. "They weren't trying to kill us, just keeping our heads down. They're stalling for time."

"I know. Come on," Three of the men stepped in front of him, shielding him.

Their journey to the next floor was quiet and slow. They had to circle the floor twice, just so they could check each room. It was worrying; there was only one floor left, and besides that little skirmish, they'd seen neither hide nor hair of anyone.

"This is it," Donovan murmured as they stood at the foot of the final flight of stairs. They stopped for a quick breather, and to check their weapons. Quiet clicks filled the silent hallway as guns were reloaded, and each man's personal weapons were adjusted or loosened enough to be grabbed easily. "Thank you, guys. I --"

"Hey, anytime, boss." Kevin spoke up for all of them. The others nodded or murmured their agreement and Donovan smiled slightly.

"What's the deal with everybody?" Joey finally had a chance to ask Kevin during their pause. It'd been go-get-em' from the start. That brooding, secluded Donovan had a veritable army at his beck and call, and was obviously competent enough to lead them -- despite his blindness -- was a shock, and seemingly impossible.

"The Boss and us? We're all ex-military, except him. Mercenaries, some seem to think, but we're not just hired guns." Kevin muttered, keeping his voice low. "We all have specialties. Like Mikey. The Boss likes to keep himself busy, doing odd jobs for some of his associates. Usually he just manages from afar, but I'm afraid we've tangled with Bonnet a few too many times, and this time it's personal."

Joey opened his mouth to ask another question, but Donovan approached Kevin, who promptly snapped to attention and into business mode. Joey couldn't hear what Donovan murmured, but the look on Kevin's face was grim.

"What was that about?" Joey whispered as they lined up at the foot of the stairs.

"Our mission is to get Lady Alford out alive. That's it."

"So he's just going to let this Bonnet guy get away with it?" Joey's voice shook with indignation. "He kidnapped my pregnant friend and --"

"Our mission is to get Lady Alford out alive," Kevin growled again. "Anything else is up to the boss."

It finally dawned on Joey what that meant. "If he gets his blind ass killed, Scarlet will murder me!"

Donovan led them up the final flight of steps.

***

There was so much blood, so much pain. In spite of the cocktail of medications and tranquilizers the doctors had given her, the removal of the baby hurt her. Part of her was sure it was purely in her mind. She was still screaming inside over the violation from Bonnet. The doctors had reentered the room as he finished, and had started right to work.

It was fast, effective. Her heart sang when at last she heard the soft, warbling cry of her baby. She couldn't see it, a sheet separating her view of the lower part of her body, but that cry made her arms ache to cuddle the little bundle.

"Please," she whispered at the sheet. "Can I hold my baby, once?" She didn't think they'd actually hear her, but after a couple moments quiet conversation beyond the divider, a figure in blood-spattered white scrubs carried a blanket-wrapped little parcel into her view.

A tiny pink fist extended from the folds as she took it, and she kissed the delicate fingers. Whimpers escaped, and she opened the blanket further to stare down into wide, dark eyes. Even knowing that it wasn't his, those unfocused eyes made her think of her husband. Dark hair fuzzed on a perfect round head, and she kissed that as well. Love filled her heart, and her eyes streamed.

"Hi baby," she whispered. "You're so pretty. Such a pretty baby. Mummy loves you so much."

The doctors approached again. "Ma-am, the baby..."

Scarlet's silent tears became heart-wrenching sobs as they wrested the babe from her arms. The tiny infant joined in her cries, and it thrashed in the head doctor's arms. They bundled it away from the room and left Scarlet on the bed.

Outside the room, gunfire exploded through the halls.

***

They were set upon as soon as they reached the top floor. Bullets whizzed toward them, taking down the first men in the group. Kevin shoved Donovan and Joey, the most vulnerable members of the band, down out of harm's way. Joey watched as they returned fire, most efficiently and organized than their opponents. Bonnet's larger group of men crept back down the halls, giving ground, and Donovan's team followed doggedly.

"Alford..." Joey pulled Donovan up into a sitting position once the landing was cleared. "Do you hear that? It sounds like...like a baby."

"Of course I do," Donovan snapped. "You go, find out. You'll be faster without me. Be careful." Joey glanced at him in surprise. "Scarlet will murder me if you get your ass killed."

Joey chuckled mirthlessly. Creeping down the hall, in the opposite direction of the fight, he paused to check the rooms briefly. They were empty, but he followed the quickly fading wails.

Donovan listened to Joseph's footsteps fade, before he stood to follow his men. The gunfire had slacked off; only the occasional shot shook the halls around him. They must have had Bonnet's men pinned in a room, like their teams had been.

"Bonsoir, Monsieur Alford." Bonnet spoke from behind him.

Donovan turned slowly. "Bonnet."

"Tch, so curt. That is not becoming, mon ami."

"Where is my wife?" It came out in a soft but dangerous growl, and unbeknownst to Donovan, Bonnet shuddered and gripped his small handgun tighter.

"Oh, the madame is resting. Childbirth is very tiring, you know."

"You took her child?"

"My child." Donovan took a step toward him. Bonnet raised his gun defensively. The man was blind, but he knew from experience that the man was skilled in ways beyond perfect vision. He was dangerous. "Don't move..."

"Boss?" Michael whispered in Donovan's ear. "Should I get someone over there?"

Donovan didn't reply. His team had their orders, whether they liked it or not. And they would follow them. Joey was going after the baby. Once Bonnet's team was taken down, Scarlet would be retrieved and all would be well.

"What are you going to do with my wife?" Donovan took a step backwards, sensing Bonnet relaxing as the space between them grew.

"Oh, she's of no use to me, you know."

"Let me take her, then."

"Unfortunately, that's quite impossible. You see, neither you, nor the dear Madame Alford shall make it out of this house alive. It would be quite...problematic, if either one of you came back, to haunt me, I mean. You and I have tangled too many times, mon ami. You know this. We are old enemies, and that's reached its end."

"I agree. But why kill her? There's nothing she could do to take the child back. You're too powerful."

"Insurance. Your wife is a stubborn, determined, beautiful woman, Alford. A wonderful choice for you, I should think. But she would try. And, I feel, succeed. Hell hath no fury, and she fights like a hellcat, let me tell you." Bonnet touched his arm, stirred at a memory. "She clawed me so hard the first time I took her, I had to get half a dozen stitches."

Donovan tensed at the last statement. Knowing that Bonnet had fathered his wife's child was different from actually knowing that Bonnet had raped his wife. "First time?"

"Ah yes," Bonnet backed away slowly. "We had another encounter today. She's quite irresistible."

Donovan saw red. Blood pounded in his veins and he charged at his armed enemy, ignoring the singing bullets that rushed by him, and the sting as one connected. An almighty roar escaped his frame as he tackled Bonnet to the ground. His opponent's fist connected with his jaw, but he only felt the jarring of it, not the pain. His hands became wet, and he knew it was his blood; still he pummeled and pounded the man's body wherever he could make a connection.




Beauty--Remastered Ch. 10



Another gunshot made him pause, just for an instant. The pain of that one, in his left side was slight; it was just a graze, as he struggled to knock the gun from the other man's grasp. Bonnet took advantage of his hesitation and kicked him off. Donovan reached for his own gun, but it wasn't in his holster. It must have fallen out during the struggle.

The barrel of Bonnet's gun met his temple and he checked his movements. "It's been fun." The Frenchman panted, his voice tight with pain. "Goodbye, monsieur."

Donovan heard a click, and Bonnet swore. The cartridge was empty. He knocked it from the weak grip of his enemy and downed the man again. Kneeling over him, he pulled a long knife from its concealed sheath in his boot.

"P-please don't kill me." Bonnet begged, panting and sobbing. He gurgled to silence when the sharp blade was placed against his neck.

"Alford!" Joey's voice rose above the warbling infant screams rising from the tiny bundle clasped to his chest. He'd found the baby as they bundled the poor thing into Bonnet's car. There had been some sort of gunfight, but he hardly remembered it. All he knew was when he realized it, he'd been scooping the bawling child from the car, dead or wounded doctors and armed men littering the surfaces surrounding him. And he'd done it all on his own. "I found it!"

"Sir!" Kevin's voice crackled in his ear at the same time. "Lady Alford is alive and safe. Tony's just getting her ready to be moved now."

"You can go," Bonnet whimpered. "I'll leave you, and your wife. And the child! I swear it. I'll leave the country!"

"No," Donovan growled, his voice low and deadly. He raised Bonnet up and went nose to nose with him. "You raped my wife. You kidnapped her. You cut the child from her womb. That's far enough, Gaston." He raised the knife.

Faster than Joey's eye could move, Bonnet had pulled a knife from what seemed like thin air, and plunged it into Donovan's side. An anguished roar thundered through the walls, prompting the baby to being its screams. The knife in Donovan's grasp slipped from his grasp and Bonnet let out a single choked gasp as it embedded itself in his neck.

"Boss!" Kevin appeared around the corner, pulling Donovan's limp body off of the dead man's. "He's still breathing. Tony, hurry up in there and get your ass out here. Boss is hurt."

"There, there," Joey soothed the baby, following the halls to where the other members of the team were gathered around a door. They parted for him and he entered the room. "Scary!"

"Joey?" Scarlet was dazed. The medication and sedatives Anthony had plied her with were taking effect. She heard the soft whimpers of the child and her face lit up. "You have my baby?"

Joey carefully handed it over, careful of the temporary IV she was hooked up to. She cuddled the small thing to her chest, caressing tiny features. "It's beautiful, Scary. Looks just like you."

She smiled, then frowned. "Why are you here? It's too dangerous."

"Well, it's over, now, and I'm fine. So hush. Relax. We'll be out of here soon, and Alford will be fine and--"

Scarlet was instantly on the alert. "What happened to Donovan? Dammit, Joey, is he here, too?"

"Lady Alford," Kevin barked at her, and shoved Joseph back. "You need to relax, ma'am. The Boss is fine. Joseph, shut up and get your shit in gear." He lowered his voice as he finished his reprimand. "Don't scare her."

"But he's okay, right?"

"If Anthony can work his magic, yes. But Joseph, he's been shot twice, and stabbed. We need to get them out of here now."

Joseph turned back to see his best friend staring down at the baby in her arms. One of the huge men scooped her up gently, cradling their small forms protectively. She turned and smiled at Joey, her eyes drifting closed.