Her Beast, His Beauty Read online

  I was “The Beast” to them, as ugly on the outside as I’d grown on the inside.

  This was who I was now, and there was no changing it.

  It had been two weeks since she’d moved into the estate, and in those fourteen days I’d watched her, realizing she kept to herself and did her job. I should’ve talked to her, introduced myself awhile before now, but I wanted to see how she acted. I wanted to know her before I said one word to her.

  But I was tired of waiting. I was done hiding in the shadows. It was time to make my presence known. I just hoped when she saw me, she could see past the physical imperfections and the hardness that I’d surrounded myself with.

  I left my office and went downstairs. I normally took breakfast upstairs, but this morning was the start of me doing things differently—although I felt like I was coming out of my skin. I was uncomfortable and unsure, even in my own fucking house.

  I stepped into the dining room, and two of the servants turned and stared at me. I could see the shock on their faces as they took me in. Many of my employees had never actually seen me, so no doubt I was a fucking surprise to them. The older man looked at the side of my face, his throat working as he took in the raised flesh. What made me want to crawl out of my skin was the attention people gave me. I wanted to be left alone. I wanted to be unseen.

  “Sir?” the other servant, a middle-aged woman, said, her voice low, her posture reserved.

  “I’m eating in the sunroom this morning.” I said the words with a hint of a growl in my voice and turned and left. Truth was I only ever conversed with Carolyn and a select few employees.

  Once I was in the sunroom, I sat and stared out at the grounds. It was early enough in the morning that frost still covered the grass. One of the servants set a newspaper in front of me along with a cup of coffee. I nodded without looking over at him. Who I wanted to see was Britta. I started bouncing my leg, this tightness covering my skin. I didn’t like this feeling, this nervousness…this anticipation that filled me.

  “Mr. Foxwerth?” Carolyn’s voice was sharp, stern. Although that’s how she always spoke, no matter whom she was talking to.

  I glanced over at her and saw the surprised look on her face. No doubt she was shocked to see me not in my office upstairs. Hell, I was too.

  “I didn’t know you were dining downstairs. I would have had preparations made.”

  I waved off her concern and looked back at the property. “Where’s the new girl?” I heard the huskiness in my voice, and there was no doubt Carolyn heard it as well. That was one of the reasons I’d hired her. Nothing got by her.

  “The new girl, sir?”

  “Yes,” I said with a bite to my voice. It sounded as if she might be questioning me wanting to see Britta. That, I wouldn’t fucking stand for.

  “I believe she’s working in the kitchen. She’s got a very full day today—”

  When I looked over at Carolyn, she stopped talking instantly. “Who are you talking to right now?” It was an obvious rhetorical question, and when I lifted my eyebrow, she pursed her lips and nodded.

  “My apologies, Mr. Foxwerth. I’ll fetch her now.”

  Carolyn left, and a moment later my breakfast was brought to me. Before the butler left, I said, “Bring another plate. I’m eating with a guest this morning.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  I leaned back, waiting until Britta and the second breakfast was at the table before I ate. I wanted her here with me, even if she’d think this was weird as hell.

  “Sir,” Carolyn said from beside me, and I looked over to instantly lock gazes with Britta. She wore that hideous livery attire, one I wished she didn’t have on for the simple fact I didn’t want her working for me. She should be by my side, dressed in silk and lace, dripping with jewels.

  Fuck, I’ve lost my mind.

  “You can go, Carolyn,” I said but kept my focus on Britta. I had to give her credit; she didn’t stare at my scars but instead had her gaze locked with mine.

  When Carolyn left, Britta took a seat across from me. The plates of food were in front of us, and I gestured for her to start eating. I could see how nervous she was, maybe even uncomfortable.

  “Um,” she said as she glanced around the room. “I’m not sure if I should be—”

  “You’re my breakfast guest. Don’t worry about anything aside from enjoying your meal.” I didn’t want to come across as coarse, but my personality had been like this for years. I tipped my chin toward her plate. I started eating, my focus on her, not because I wanted to make her feel even more uncomfortable but because I couldn’t help myself.

  She was gorgeous, with light brown hair that hung to her shoulders, the strands looking like they’d be silk if I reached out and touched them.

  I tightened my grip on the fork, trying to control myself, or I’d do just that. Finally she started eating, the silence stretching between us, the only sound in the room our silverware hitting the china. I was ashamed of my appearance, and I told myself internally I should have cleaned up more.

  As it was, because I’d been isolated from the outside world for so long, I’d let my hair grow longer, had a full-on lumberjack beard, if I was being honest. Before my accident, my appearance had always been so sharp, always “boardroom ready.” Expensive three-piece suits, hair cut close to my head, freshly shaved daily.

  I didn’t know how I was going to pull this off, how I was going to make her see that she belonged with me even if she knew nothing about me. But she would be mine, even if I had to tear down my empire to make it happen.

  4

  Britta

  I felt weird sitting across from him, eating this lavish breakfast when I really should be cleaning his massive mansion. I didn’t say anything, not after he told me to eat. I didn’t know what to say anyway.

  When I’d eaten as much as I could, I leaned back and glanced up at him. He was looking at me, but then again, I’d been feeling his stare on me the entire time.

  He looked totally different than the images I’d seen when I searched him on the Internet. No longer did he have the dark close-cropped hair that had been slicked back in a professional manner. He was also not the clean-shaven business tycoon that I’d read about. Instead his hair was longer, falling below his ears. And his beard was wild, just like him, I assumed.

  But the truth was I liked his appearance.

  And even though he might’ve seemed unkempt to others, I had a feeling he purposefully took on this appearance to hide himself. Even with the long hair and the beard, I could still see the scars that lined one side of his face, and even his neck. God, the pain he must’ve felt, the humiliation he must still be feeling.

  Part of me wanted to tell him he had nothing to be ashamed of or embarrassed by. I had my own scars, albeit they were internal, but everyone had wounds that might never heal. I wanted to connect with him on his level, wanted to show him that I was the same as he was.

  I came from a broken home, my mother having left us when I was just a child. And because my father had been my rock for so long, losing him changed my world… shattered it.

  As the years passed, I grew stronger, tried to be surer of myself. But deep down I was still a little girl that had lost so much, that was scared of the world even if I put on a good front.

  I took a deep breath, not about to beat around the bush because I wanted to know what this was all about. I wanted to know why he’d asked me here this morning. Was I in trouble? Was I not doing a good enough job? Maybe this was a good-bye breakfast before he fired me, realizing that I really didn’t have the skills that he was looking for. Maybe he just didn’t want me here.

  If that’s the case, why is he looking at me so intently? Why is he watching me like he wants to crawl inside of me and find out everything about me?

  “Mr. Foxwerth—”

  “I want you to call me Rofus.”

  Even though it was just his first name, it seemed so personal, so intimate.

  I had my hands
clasped tightly in my lap, my throat feeling so dry, so tight. “Can I ask why you invited me here? I mean, I’m very grateful and the breakfast was delicious, but you don’t seem like the type of man who invites his staff to join him during meals.”

  He lifted a dark eyebrow after I said that. “What type of man do I seem like?”

  I really should have kept my mouth shut, trod lightly because he was my employer, the man who gave me my paycheck. So instead of putting my foot in my mouth, I shook my head and smiled. “You seem like a very generous man.” Although I didn’t really know that, and everything I had read about him told me he was ruthless when it came to what he wanted, unforgiving, and powerful in all aspects of his life. I certainly didn’t want to offend him, not when I’d only been here for two weeks.

  He didn’t say anything after I spoke, so I stood up and was about to excuse myself and get back to work when I was frozen in place at the sound of his chair scraping across the floor as he stood as well.

  “I’d like to show you something.”

  My heart was thundering so fast I didn’t doubt he could hear it. I licked my lips and saw that he lowered his gaze to watch the act. “Okay,” I said on a whisper.

  He didn’t wait for me to respond, just turned and started walking away. I could either stand there and look like an idiot, or follow him. I did the latter.

  We ended up walking for a few minutes before he finally took me into the greenhouse. I had walked past it a handful of times but had never been brave enough to sneak a peek in there.

  He opened the door to the garden and stepped aside to let me in. My movements were slow, hesitant. This felt very personal, very intimate. I didn’t know what was going on, but the heat inside of me was consuming. I could feel his stare on me, like he was actually reaching out and stroking my skin with the tips of his fingers.

  And I couldn’t deny the attraction I felt. It has been instant, even brutal. He wasn’t like any man I had ever met or seen before. He had this darkness behind his eyes, this torment that he tried to hide but that I could see clearly.

  I ducked my head, my hair falling across my face. I was hiding myself from him. I felt vulnerable around Rofus, as if he could look at me and see exactly who I was. I thought I put on a good front, had this wall around me that protected me. But with just his intense blue gaze spearing into me, that wall crumbled to my feet.

  When I heard the door shut softly behind me, I lifted my head and looked around. The air was humid, moist, and the walls and ceiling, which were made of glass, allowed the sun to shine through. Despite it being a cold November day outside, the room was warm. And all around me were the most beautiful flowers, the sweet scent filling my head and making me dizzy.

  Rofus moved in front of me. He was so much bigger than I was, at least a foot taller than my five-foot-four frame. His body, made up of lean muscle and golden skin, spoke of his power. And his scars attracted me even more to him, made me want to find out who he truly was.

  I could tell he was strong even though I had never touched him.

  The sight of bright red roses had my attention instantly, and I found myself walking toward them, the color so vibrant that it almost seemed unreal. Droplets of water lined the silky-smooth petals, and I looked up to see a water system above. I brought my attention back to the roses and leaned down to inhale, closing my eyes and moaning at the floral fragrance.

  Without thinking, I found myself reaching out and wrapping two fingers around one of the stems. Pain lanced up the digits, and I gasped, snatching my hand away and looking down at the droplet of blood that covered the pad of my thumb.

  Rofus was by me an instant later, his big hand cupping mine, his focus on my bleeding thumb. It wasn’t even a bad wound, but the intensity and concern on his face startled me.

  “Come on, we should get this cleaned up.”

  I wanted to argue that I was fine, that a dab of toilet paper on the pinprick-sized wound would be okay, but I kept my mouth shut and allowed him to lead me out of the greenhouse, down the hall, and into one of the bathrooms.

  The feel of his hand wrapped loosely around my wrist sent fire up my forearm. I couldn’t describe the sensation that consumed me at that small touch. My body came alive, this feeling, one I’d never experienced before, consuming me.

  He helped me sit on the edge of the claw-footed tub, and then he turned and grabbed the first-aid kit out of the cabinet. I sat there in silence, watching as he tended to me. There was something comforting about watching a man such as Rofus, who exhibited brutality and strength and who made me feel on edge yet wanting so much more, take care of me. This was all so strange but exhilarating. I didn’t know him, yet I felt like I did.

  He was tender and meticulous as he cleaned the blood off, put some ointment on my finger, and placed a small bandage over it.

  I found the act slightly humorous, given the fact I didn’t need all this attention for a tiny cut from the rose thorn. When it was all said and done, he took a step back and I lifted my head to look up at him. He seemingly filled the entire bathroom, his body so big and muscular.

  “Thank you,” I said softly and wondered if he’d heard me. I swallowed and looked at my hand, my flesh still on fire from where he’d touched me. “Why are you doing all of this?” I looked back up at him.

  He took a second to respond. “Doing what?”

  I licked my lips and broke eye contact for a second. When I looked at him again, I wondered if he saw, sensed how vulnerable I felt. I was so confused, not sure why he was being so nice, why he was paying so much attention to me.

  “Why the breakfast, the greenhouse?” I exhaled slowly. “Why are you taking care of me?” I lifted up my hand as if he wouldn’t know what I was talking about.

  He took a step toward me again, helping me up from the edge of the tub, and I allowed myself to take his scent into my lungs.

  “I did what I did because…” He stopped speaking, his gaze locked with mine. “Because I wanted to get to know you.” The air became thick, heated. “Because I want you as mine.”

  5

  Britta

  One week later

  It had only been a week since the breakfast and bathroom incident with Rofus. But in those seven days he was all I thought about, all I could think about. I tried to focus on my work, to be immersed in the meticulous task that was my job, but he was always present in my thoughts. The intensity in just a simple look from him shocked me. It had such a strong impact on my body.

  I looked up and stared at Regina, one of the housekeepers. I wanted to ask her about him, but I didn’t want to seem like I was probing for information. But my curiosity was too strong. I cleared my throat, and she glanced up at me. “I was wondering if you’d ever met Mr. Foxwerth.” I didn’t use his first name despite the fact he’d wanted me to call him that. Regina was a coworker, and I tried to be professional.

  She seemed to think my question over for a second. “In the six years I’ve worked here, I’ve only seen him a handful of times. He keeps to himself.” She looked around as if she didn’t want anybody to hear what she was saying. When she looked back at me, I wondered what she was thinking. “But I suggest staying away from him and doing your job. He’s a man who likes his privacy. And when he’s in one of his moods, he’ll take it out on whoever is in front of him.”

  I felt my brows knit in confusion. “One of his moods?”

  “He runs his business from home. So if something isn’t going right in that aspect, he can be very…beastly.” She snorted after she said that. “Hence how he got the nickname ‘The Beast.’”

  I nodded but didn’t respond. I had a feeling he was on edge like that because of the inner pain he felt, pain he’d probably never tell anyone, never show a living soul.

  We got back to work, neither of us saying anything else the remainder of the time, but my thoughts were on Rofus. Part of me had assumed that the nickname stemmed from the accident, and not just how he was with his business. But it did make sen
se seeing that the aura that surrounded him was intense, to say the least. He seemed like a take-no-shit kind of man, like he’d inflict fear in people with just a look.

  No one had ever had this effect on me. Maybe I should have been a little concerned with his attention toward me, his seeming obsession with me. It had only been a few weeks since I’d started working here, and even less time since he’d invited me to breakfast, but in that short time I’d seen him every day, felt his gaze locked on me.

  And whenever I looked at him, he was watching me.

  But I didn’t know how to process the silent attention he threw my way. I didn’t know what was going on, or how to stop it…if I even wanted to.

  Part of me didn’t want to pretend that I couldn’t have this, couldn’t have him. Part of me wanted to allow myself to experience what I felt.

  The truth was I wanted to get to know him better. I wanted to find out who he really was behind the facade he showed everyone else.

  And I told myself the next time I saw him, I would do just that, damn the consequences.

  Britta

  Over the last several days I’d worked harder than I ever had since starting this position. Truth was I was trying to keep my mind off Rofus, off my feelings, despite the fact I told myself I’d speak with him, be honest with him the next time I saw him. But it was no use. He consumed my thoughts, invaded my days in the best of ways.

  And I meant that literally. Every day I saw him… I wanted him more. But I was too afraid to actually do what I’d said I would…tell him how I felt.

  If it hadn’t been clear before, it was crystal now. Rofus wanted me, yet he stayed away. I’d heard the other employees talk about how they’d seen him more in the last couple of weeks than they had in the years that they had been working for him.