Falling for the Beast (A Modern Fairy Tale Duet 2)

“What? Jesus, Erin. No.”

She sat up, using the lever to pull the chair upright. “I wouldn’t blame you. I understand I’m not what they would have wanted for you.”

He shook his head. He still couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I don’t give a fuck what they want for me. You’re what I want. You’re what I need.” The knot in his stomach grew tighter, and he couldn’t ignore it. “We don’t have to do this.”

Her eyebrows dipped. “Do what?”

“Visit them. We can just leave. I’ll tell them I wasn’t feeling well.” It wouldn’t even be a lie at this point. He had a bad fucking feeling.

“No way. We’re already here.” She glanced out the windshield, her pretty eyes widening as she looked up and up. Because yeah, there were fucking spires, like a goddamn fortress. And it had been as cold as one when he was a kid, too. She swallowed. “We have to go in.”

He knew that was true. He’d put off his visit long enough, knowing it was required, knowing that Erin would feel like he was ashamed if he didn’t bring her. The best he could do was get it over with quickly. As far as he was concerned, after this, he was done. His parents could make a cameo at their wedding so the press wouldn’t make a fuss, and that would be it.

He took her hand in his and kissed her palm. “Let’s get this over with.”

Chapter Twelve

Erin

Erin’s first thought when a tall, grim woman opened the door: the Ice Queen. Her hair was a blonde so pale it was almost white, with no roots of course. She seemed naturally beautiful, effortlessly elegant, the kind of woman Erin had always envied. And her smile could put frost on the windows.

“You must be Erin,” she said, taking her hand between long, cold fingers.

Erin forced a smile. “So glad to meet you, Mrs. Morris.”

“I’m sure.”

Blake’s father wasn’t much better. His hair a light grey, his eyes almost silver. At least in his case she had seen pictures online. The lauded ex-senator. Board member for countless charities. Successful investor. He was rumored to be a personal friend of the president, back in their fraternity days, and still had his ear. Yes, this family was steeped in money, and as they sat for lemonade in the sunroom, she felt the privilege thick and sharp.

“How was the drive?” his father inquired.

Blake’s expression looked tense. Was he worried about what she would say? Or was he always this way around his parents? “Uneventful,” he said. “Though we got a later start than we’d originally planned.”

His mother made a tsking sound. “You’ve been away too long, and I don’t just mean this morning. What can I tell people?”

“You can tell them you saw me now, Mother. And that I’m getting married.” With that, he gifted Erin a brief smile.

Unfortunately Mrs. Morris did not seem impressed with her. “I don’t ask for much from you, Blake. You know that.”

Well, that explained the tension. This had gone from awkward pleasantries to major parental guilt in the first fifteen minutes. She sent up thanks that her mother had only ever given love and support. She hadn’t grown up with a father or a trust fund, but her childhood had been a hell of a lot warmer than this.

Blake sighed. “Mother, not now.”

“When then?” She glanced at Erin, with something almost like a sneer on her face. But that would be ugly, and this woman had never been ugly a day in her life. Erin imagined her waking up just as pretty, just as remote. “If she’s going to be in this family, she should know the truth.”

Erin froze, discomfort a hard knot in her throat. She’d been trying to ignore the truth, trying to pretend there was nothing to be uncovered here. Trying to pretend her mother had never dusted that lamp or swept this floor.

That way she could pretend she hadn’t seen her mother crying, that she didn’t wonder what had really happened in this house. Her gaze snapped to Mr. Morris, whose expression was unreadable. Was he angry? Bored? If nothing else, his poker face was to be admired.

“Erin and I are going upstairs now,” Blake said, his voice and expression even. Had he learned that from his father? But it was clear he was upset. She could feel it in him as if they were connected. “We’ll rest for a few hours and see you at dinner.”

His mother sighed. “I’ll have the maid show you to your rooms.”

Erin was relieved at the prospect of leaving the house, even for a few minutes to get their bags from the car. But Blake followed a middle-aged woman in a simple black uniform up the stairs.

She stood for a moment at the base of the wide, curving staircase. Somehow this felt like crossing a threshold when just coming inside hadn’t.

Blake paused, looking back. “You okay?” he asked softly.