You’re on?
A crack at her?
Her mind flew from memory to memory of the night before, wickedly handsome, outrageously famous, incomprehensibly rich James Bennett determinedly wooing her.
Her, Belle “Meek and Mild” Abbot.
Not because he liked her.
Not because he thought she was interesting.
But because he was competing with his brother to win a prize.
She should have known she’d never capture the attention of a man like that.
She should have known.
She didn’t want to wish that she’d never saved that school bus driver or the children from drowning but in her darkest moments of the last eight months (for instance, now), she had to admit that she sometimes did.
She felt bile slide up her throat and tears stinging the backs of her eyes. She swallowed painfully and blinked back the wetness as the women kept talking.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with those two,” Joy’s voice was filled with angry frustration. “This constant rivalry, it’s driving me mad. It started practically the day Miles was born and it just gets worse and worse. But I thought Jack…” She paused for a moment and then went on, “Poor Belle, caught in the middle. She’s such a sweet girl. I should never have left her side. I knew it. I just knew it.” She sounded like she knew it and her certainty made Belle’s heart lurch.
“She is,” Yasmin agreed. “But if I know Jack, it’s too late. He doesn’t often take Miles up on one of his challenges but when he does, he stops at nothing to win. I think he thinks eventually Miles will tire of losing.”
“Yes, but this has gone too far. I’m going to have to have a word with the two of them the first chance I get,” Joy replied with resolve.
“I’m sorry, Joy, but you’re right,” Yasmin gently concurred. “I don’t care if they’re grown men, something must be said. Playing with Belle like that, it’s just cruel.”
“Yasmin, darling, if this hasn’t gone past the point of redemption and you see Belle, you’ll have to look after her. I’ll do the same. She isn’t leaving until tomorrow. We have to protect her from this,” Joy declared.
“Of course,” Yasmin murmured and Belle knew by their voices they were moving down the hall.
As their conversation trailed away, Belle stood plastered against the wall feeling utterly, devastatingly, irreparably humiliated.
The handsome, legendary, born in a castle with a silver spoon in their mouths Bennett Brothers had competed to win her, a human being.
And she’d fallen for it. Not only with James but also, if not to the same extent, with Miles even though she’d always known something was off about him. Now she knew exactly what it was and, in hindsight, it was glaringly obvious.
Worse, Joy and Yasmin felt they needed to protect her like she was some naïve idiot unable to look out for herself.
Worse than that, they were right.
She was a stupid, silly, foolish, naïve idiot.
Belle choked back tears as she peeked around the corner and saw the hall deserted. Joy and Yasmin had disappeared.
Then she ran to her room like the very devil was at her back.
She had to get out of there.
Immediately.
She knew all along this wasn’t a safe place.
And she was right.
She should have listened to herself.
She now understood the reason she wrapped herself in cotton wool. To protect herself from this kind of irrevocable damage because it hurt worse than anything she could ever imagine. Worse than a broken arm. Worse than a sprained ankle. Worse than anything.
She threw open the door to her room and charged in only to come to an immediate, rocking halt.
And this was because Miles was lying on her bed clothed in his tuxedo without the jacket or tie but still wearing his shoes. He had his arms lifted, his head resting on his hands. He looked, for all the world, like a man in thoughtful repose.
When she arrived, his eyes turned to her, they took in her face, her hair, James’s shirt and they narrowed dangerously.
Then his voice, low and trembling with fury, came at her, lacerating her frayed nerves and exacerbating her already overwhelming humiliation.
“He f**ked you,” Miles declared.
At his awful but very true words, Belle jolted out of her horrified stance and ran to her handbag. Throwing her dress and shoes in the direction of her suitcase, she turned and dug in her purse to find her phone.
“You let him f**k you,” Miles’s voice said from behind her.
She pulled out her mobile and bent her head to it, her mind racing, her thumb touching the screen, her shaky hand making her call nearly impossible.
“Belle,” Miles called.
He was closer. She could hear it and she could feel it and it terrified her.
She hit the call button and put the phone to her ear.
“Belle, I’m talking to you.” Miles’s voice was changing, his tone had turned biting. She didn’t have to look at him to know his anger was fierce.
She’d heard that tone before, dozens of times and her fear escalated alarmingly.
The call connected and she asked to be put through to a taxi service.
“Belle, put down the f**king phone,” Miles demanded but the call went through and Belle moved. Digging in her bag, she pulled out a pair of jeans.
“Belle, I said put down the f**king phone.” Miles’s voice was getting louder but Belle, beginning to panic and almost unable to cope with her stifling humiliation, ignored him, focussing solely on escape.
The taxi service picked up and Belle said in a tremulous voice, “I need a taxi at Chy An Als Point. Immediately. It’s an emergency,” she semi-lied.
It wasn’t a true emergency, just an emergency to her.
But in order to get away, she was willing to lie.
She’d worry about the black mark against her soul later.
A lot later.
“Belle.” Miles’s voice was an ugly warning.
“What’s the name?” the lady at the taxi service asked in her ear.
“Belle Abbot,” Belle answered.
There was a brief pause then a breathy, “The Tiny Dynamo?”
Belle shut her eyes tight at the hated, ridiculous title the papers had given her as she felt the fury emanating from Miles hitting her.
“Yes,” she replied, not willing to extend the energy to fight it.
“And it’s an emergency?” the lady asked.
“Yes,” Belle semi-lied again.
“Someone will be right there, love. Don’t you worry,” the lady assured her and Belle felt immense relief mingled with guilt for leading the nice taxi lady on.