Lucky Stars, Page 3

  Jack Bennett did, indeed, want “a crack” at Belle Abbot.

  Actually, when it came to Belle Abbot, Jack found he wanted a number of things.

  He wanted to see if he could break through her obvious, nearly crippling shyness and get her to respond to him. He wanted to hear her soft, sweet voice utter more than a few words. He wanted to teach her to look in his eyes not at his ear. He wanted to see what would happen to her timidity when he kissed her. He wanted to know if what he read behind her stormy eyes and if the promise of her tempting body proved true when he had her naked underneath him.

  And he decided instantly he was going to do all of those things.

  Every last one.

  What he would not do was break her in order to do it.

  Something which Miles would not hesitate to do.

  Therefore, he had no other choice really.

  Thinking of Belle’s lips parting on her soft “oh”, Jack wouldn’t have even considered another choice.

  But knowing his brother, he definitely had no choice.

  And, his decision made, his eyes focussed on Miles, Miles read what was in Jack’s eyes and then Jack watched his brother smile.

  Then Miles’s eyes began to burn with an unhealthy fire that made Jack’s gut get tight and his brother whispered hungrily, “You’re on.”

  Chapter Two

  James’s Tour

  Belle

  Belle wandered down the long hall looking for escape.

  But escape wasn’t easy to find.

  There were people everywhere.

  Joy must be much loved for the castle was enormous and in every nook and cranny there were people.

  And Belle needed to escape people.

  She’d just spent the three most excruciatingly uncomfortable hours of her life amongst a stifling clutch of people and she needed somewhere where she could be alone and just breathe.

  Her night was uncomfortable for three reasons.

  Firstly, Miles was intent upon being way too close at all times and introducing her to everyone who came within shouting distance.

  And this he did with alarming zeal.

  Secondly, both Joy Bennett and Yasmin Delacourt were acting as if she was a long lost daughter (Joy) and a best friend from high school lost for decades and now joyfully reunited (Yasmin).

  Belle already liked Joy but it seemed the lady was protecting her. More times than Belle could count, Joy materialised at Miles and Belle’s side in order to curb Miles’s wild enthusiasm at breathing Belle’s air. This she did before she had to go off and be the guest of honour that she was, which as the hours passed she seemed to do with more and more trepidation.

  With time Belle got over Yasmin’s overwhelming friendliness not to mention her startling frankness and began to like her. However, Belle noted, Yasmin seemed to do the same thing as Joy in the same protective way.

  The striking, leggy, curly redheaded, barely clothed Yasmin, at first, terrified Belle. She really liked Yasmin’s turquoise satin slip dress but with the deep cleavage, deeper back and short hem even if it left very little to the imagination. Then again, if Belle had a body like hers, she might consider wearing the same thing (who was she kidding, she’d never consider it).

  But she was clearly a very nice woman who’d been around the family for some time and also seemed to be regarded as a kind of daughter.

  Regardless, Belle thought Yasmin and Joy’s behaviour was beyond odd. Although, she had to admit, she was grateful for it. Miles was driving Belle up the wall.

  Lastly, and most importantly, until about a half an hour ago when he’d thankfully disappeared, James Bennett was always there.

  Always.

  He wasn’t close but he was also never far and often she’d feel that weird trill up her spine, the hairs on the back of her neck would stand up and her belly would melt. She’d look around and, every time it happened, she’d see that he had his amazing jade green eyes on her.

  She did not understand why he was watching her.

  It was simply bizarre.

  What was more bizarre was Belle’s reaction to him.

  Okay, so he was the very definition of masculine beauty.

  And there was the fact that she was shy and nervous, not just at the worst of times but all the time.

  But James Bennett utterly and completely petrified her.

  He was way too attractive. No one should be that attractive.

  In fact, Belle thought being that attractive should be against the law.

  He should be locked up in order to save all of womankind from his stupefying appeal.

  He was, Belle convinced herself, dangerous, he was so darned good-looking.

  When he’d first touched her, first spoken to her, she’d actually felt her body moving toward him of its own volition like she was made of metal and he was magnetic.

  After that happened, she decided she wanted nothing to do with him.

  Indeed, she wanted nothing to do with the entire family no matter how nice they were (except, possibly, Miles in the nice department).

  She should have never come there.

  And she decided she was breaking up with Miles the first chance she got.

  If it didn’t demonstrate extremely bad manners, she would have done it that very night.

  She would definitely do it tomorrow.

  This was most assuredly not a safe place for Belle Abbot to be.

  She needed her tranquil, cosy cottage. She needed her tidy sewing room. She needed to be anywhere but there.

  On that thought, she saw a closed door and hoped that no one would mind if she opened it and went inside. She didn’t care if it was a closet. She’d stand amongst the brooms just to get away for five minutes.

  She opened the door and found it wasn’t a closet.

  Instead, it was James Bennett’s study. She remembered it amongst the numerous rooms Miles had shown her that afternoon.

  It was, Belle saw with relief, dark and deserted.

  She slipped in and quietly closed the door.

  This room, like all of the rest in Chy An Als, was huge. It held a gigantic desk with two chairs at angles in front of it all of which sat in the massive bay window. There was a large, tan-coloured, button-backed sofa that was situated facing an enormous, stone mantel fireplace, a heavy, ornate, dark wood, low table between the two. There was another seating area in the corner, two comfy armchairs separated by a round table and sharing an ottoman. The entire room (outside the window) was lined in bookshelves chock-a-block with books.

  Belle didn’t see any of that. Instead, as she started to pick her way across the room aided by the bright moonlight shining from the bay window that faced the sea, she heard the telltale jangle of dog tags.

  Between the table and fireplace, she stopped and looked down to see a large dog, who appeared in the moonlight to be a German Shepherd, standing at attention and staring at her.

  Belle smiled.

  She loved dogs.

  Slowly, so as not to alarm him, she crouched low and, just as slowly, lifted her hand toward him.

  He came forward cautiously and sniffed her hand.

  “Hey there, fella,” she whispered and watched his head come up at the sound of her voice.

  Then it moved, his snout butting Belle’s hand. At his invitation, she shifted forward slowly, shuffling in a crouch and started to stroke the silky, thick fur at his handsome head.

  “Aren’t you beautiful?” she asked on a soft coo. He inched toward her as the strokes became her fingernails scratching behind his ear and she let out a soft laugh. “You know it, don’t you? Just how beautiful you are,” she went on and lifted her other hand to rub his neck as her nails worked behind his ear.

  He came closer and sat down, pressing into her hands and she leaned her face toward him carefully not wishing to scare him.

  She didn’t. He lifted his mouth to her face and licked her jaw.

  Belle burst out laughing and framed his doggie neck with her hands
, catching his ruff gently in her fists and giving his neck an affectionate shake.

  “Now, that’s the best kiss I’ve had in three years,” she told him with complete honesty and she heard his tail sweep the floor at her compliment.

  She took her hands away and stood, patting her hip to bring him with her as she made her way to the window.

  “Come on, handsome,” she invited softly. “Show me the view.

  He trotted alongside her as she went to the window, stopped and looked.

  All she saw was sea and sky in every direction. Both the waters and the heavens the same rich midnight blue, the white caps of the waves breaking the sea, fluffy white clouds dotting the sky, all of it illuminated by the moonlight.

  It was spectacular.

  She looked down at the dog, which had sat next to her and bent slightly to stroke his head.

  “I could live here for a thousand years and never get used to this view,” she told the dog.

  “I’m not sure that’s true,” the very deep, very masculine, very unmistakable voice of James Bennett said from behind her.

  Terror shooting through her, Belle straightened and whirled to face the room. She did this so fast the blood rushed to her head and she swayed slightly while her eyes focussed on where the voice had come from.

  On the couch she could see long legs covered in dark trousers stretched straight out. There was a white shirted chest, one arm cocked so a shadowy dark head could rest on a hand and the other arm up, looking like it was holding a glass.

  Her first petrified thought was to run directly from the room.

  This was a good thought, a thought she was ready to go with wholeheartedly.

  Unfortunately, Belle’s feet had somehow come detached from her brain’s commands and didn’t move.

  “I’ve lived here thirty-eight years and don’t even see it anymore.” He continued speaking, not moving from his position but she knew from her melty stomach and the hairs prickling at her neck that his eyes were on her.

  From the silence in the room, she realised something was expected of her and she swallowed.

  Finally, she mumbled, “That’s kind of sad,” because it was.

  Then her locked body became frozen as she watched the white shirt move, curling into the trousers and she knew he was going to stand.

  Now! Her mind screamed at her immobile feet. Now’s the time to run!

  Her feet stayed stubbornly stationary.

  She saw James was on his own feet and coming her way.

  Belle stared at him, body statue-still, as he approached then kept approaching then kept approaching until he was not even a foot away.

  Then he stopped and she nearly let out the breath she was holding but he immediately leaned in close.

  Too close.

  Magnetically close.

  She steeled her body against his pull and her lungs began to burn as she looked up at him to see that he was gazing over her shoulder.

  Then she saw his eyes flick down to hers in the moonlight even though he didn’t lean away.

  “You’re right,” he said softly. “It is sad.”

  Do something! Her mind shrieked.

  “Um…” her mouth said.

  Then she stopped speaking.

  “Yes?” James prompted, still not leaning away.

  “What?” she asked quickly, mind all of a sudden completely blank.

  “You were going to say something,” he told her.

  Was she?

  She was.

  What was she going to say?

  “Um…” she repeated.

  She stopped speaking again.

  His entire face, bathed in moonlight, smiled.

  Seeing it, Belle’s mind went completely blank again as her belly did a weird, not unpleasant in the slightest, flip.

  “Why are you here?” he asked quietly.

  She felt her head give a tiny jerk and then tilt.

  “Here?” she parroted.

  “In the study,” he explained. “Away from the party.” He hesitated and his voice was deeper when he went on, “Away from Miles.”

  Well, one thing she knew, she couldn’t tell him his brother was driving her up the wall and she was breaking up with him that very next day.

  “Um…” she said yet again then her mind kicked in gear. “I needed a break. I’m not a people person.”

  Now why did she tell him that?

  It sounded rude and it made her sound like an idiot.

  A rude idiot.

  Even though it was true.

  He seemed to get even closer when he remarked, “I guessed that.”

  She was stunned and a little disappointed. She thought she’d been pretty good at hiding it.

  “You did?”

  She heard his soft chuckle. It was a delicious sound. Just as delicious as it was the first time she heard it and that made her belly do a weird, intensely pleasant flip too.

  “Yes, Belle. You’re definitely not a people person,” he told her.

  For some reason she didn’t like him thinking that so she decided to explain. “No, it’s just a lot of people, all together, at once. Normally I’m okay, you know, on a one-on-one basis.”

  “Like now?” he asked.

  No, she was definitely not okay standing in a moonlit room with Magnetic James Bennett chatting one-on-one.

  “Kind of,” she semi-fibbed (all right, so it was an out and out lie).

  He studied her a moment and then moved away. She watched as he put the glass he’d been holding on the desk then turned back to her.

  Her body locked as his strong fingers curled just above her elbow. She felt them there, so hot on her skin she thought they were going to leave burn marks.

  As she was thinking this, he moved to her side and propelled her forward.

  She took two steps then froze, rooted to the spot.

  Her head tilted to look at him and she queried, “Where are we going?”

  “Don’t worry Belle. We’re not rejoining the party. I’m going to show you The Point,” he explained.

  Belle felt immense relief that she had a ready and truthful excuse to get out of a tour of “The Point” (what they called his enormous, multitude-of-rooms-filled castle) with James Bennett.

  “That’s okay. Miles took me on a tour this afternoon.”

  She watched as James looked over her shoulder and muttered, “Of course he did.”

  Then he moved forward again, his hand firm on her arm so she had no choice but to move with him. As they went toward the door, he grabbed his dinner jacket from the arm of the couch.

  “Um, James…” she began to protest but he spoke again.

  “Jack,” he stated firmly then he let out a low whistle and Belle heard dog tags behind them.

  “Okay,” she agreed hesitantly and went on, “I should probably find Miles and –”

  He cut her off, “I’m betting Miles missed part of the tour.”

  Belle couldn’t imagine that. They’d been wandering around for over an hour.

  “I think he was pretty thorough,” Belle informed him as he stopped them and put his hand to the doorknob.

  He looked down at her before opening the door. “My brother is many things,” he said softly and there was a wealth of meaning behind his words, Belle just didn’t understand it. “But he is not thorough.”

  Then he opened the door and guided her through.

  Then he guided her down a deserted hall.

  Then he guided her through some busy kitchens.

  Then he took her out a backdoor.

  They stepped into the nippy May evening and Belle shivered.

  Upon her shiver, James pulled her to a stop and dropped her arm. She turned to him and saw he was shaking out his dinner jacket. Before her mind registered his intent, he moved close to her front, his hands came up on either side of her and he settled the jacket on her shoulders.

  Then his fingers came to the lapels and pulled them closed at her chest, leaving his hands ther
e.

  Throughout this she stood shocked and solid.

  It was a kind thing to do.

  Immensely kind.

  Even gallant.

  It was also, the way he did it, casually intimate.

  She barely knew the man and yet there she was in the night wearing his jacket, his hands on her and it seemed, unlike when Miles touched her, strangely natural.

  “Better?” he murmured and all she could do was nod.

  Part of her hoped they could stand like that forever (or at least for a while).

  Part of her wanted to run screaming into the night.

  Therefore, she felt relief and disappointment when his hands moved from the lapels of his jacket.

  Her body relaxed then grew stiff again as only one of his hands dropped away.

  The other one came up to her neck, sliding against her skin in a barely there touch (but still, she felt it, and his touch affected her everywhere). He tugged free her errant lock of hair from where it was caught under his jacket.

  Then she felt rather than saw him twist it around his finger, his eyes on this movement, his expression thoughtful, his face beautiful and all she could do was stand there and stare.

  Then his finger released her hair and he dropped his hand.

  That was when Belle realised her lungs were burning again due to lack of oxygen because she wasn’t breathing.

  “I think you’ll like the part of the tour that Miles missed,” he told her and she nodded because she couldn’t think of what else to do.

  He turned and put a hand to the small of her back, moving her forward, walking beside her, his hand never leaving her (and it burned there too).

  He glanced behind them as they walked and called, “Baron,” and the German Shepherd jogged up to his side.

  They walked silently along a stone path that led around the castle and up a small hill. Some of it was uneven though not treacherous but James obviously knew this path like the back of his hand because before they hit the rough patches, his arm would slide around her, fingers curving at her waist to pull her protectively to his side.

  Belle didn’t think much about this because her mind was in a perpetual horrified whirl.

  How she was going to make it through whatever he was going to show her, she had no clue.

  However, their silent, moonlit stroll was weirding her out even more.