Beast and Beatrice

Chapter four - Gilbert

Gilbert stood looking down on his sleeping angel. Well, she wasn't his exactly. But, there was no denying he did feel responsible for her. She had come to his door in search of shelter and sanctuary, after all. And now, she lay in his bed, completely dependent upon his mercy.

Exhausted by the effort to relieve herself, she lay where she had fallen, sprawled across the pallet. One arm was flung out to the side, and the other pinned across her chest, still gripping the old blanket tightly to her torso. The material barely succeeded in the attempt at modesty, molded as it was to her curves. He couldn't help but pause to admire her shapely form. And the petite little foot that peeked out from beneath the cover.  She was a tiny little thing.  As delicate as a rose, soft and well rounded. He shouldn't ogle her while she slept but he reminded himself it was only fair to look his fill. She had looked him over just as thoroughly not a moment ago.

His lips quirked into a quick grin as he recalled the shocked look on her face as she had sat there, mouth agape, eyes wide with shock, simply staring. She hadn't been able to peel her gaze away. And then the shock had faded to a kind of bemused admiration, her eyes going soft and sultry.

His chest swelled with male pride, knowing that this beauty openly admired his muscular physique. He had always been strong, but over the last few years, hard physical labor had hardened and toned his muscles.  He was leaner and stronger now than ever before. But, he had never been considered handsome by any stretch of the imagination. He was never anyone's idea of perfect. His appearance was far more likely to intimidate.  His features were too hard, too square to ever be considered handsome. Even without the scars and several years' worth of beard now tangled across his face. There was very little softness in him anymore. Nothing to recommend him among his peers. Even his own family considered him an oddity. And yet this sweet young woman had cast an appreciate eye over him for just a moment. He could almost chuckle with delight.

But then his mouth flattened with dismay as he recalled that moment when he reached past her to set down the bucket, and she had flinched, shrinking away from him in fear. Not that he blamed her exactly.  She had every reason to fear him. After all, she was a lone woman suddenly at the mercy of an unruly stranger. Who wouldn't find the situation the least bit intimidating?

S

he sighed in her sleep, drawing his attention, and his gaze skated over the scratches and bruises on her pale skin. Another reason for her sudden fear leaped to mind. Those bruises all over her tender skin told a horror story all on their own. Of course, she would be leery. She must have been abused and no doubt expected little better from him. Even though his intentions were honorable, any sudden moves on his part were sure to startle and frighten her.

Outrage fired inside his chest once more. Only a cruel, heartless monster would inflict such brutality on a woman. He had the urge to chase the bastard down and pummel him into pulp. But that would not help the woman's recovery. He reminded himself he must be cautious and gentle. And yet, coddling her would grow old fast. She was not an infant and would likely resent being treated as one. She would simply have to adjust to his presence and accept the fact that he was only trying to help her. He honestly had no ulterior motive beyond seeing her recovery. Despite his body's instant reaction to her presence.

There was no denying he was attracted to her. She was a beautiful young woman. He was a normal, lusty male with all a healthy man's natural urges. But he was not some mindless beast. He was a gentleman, and he intended to keep himself under strict control. His only task was to see to the girl's recovery. The sooner she regained her strength, the sooner he could send her back where she came from. The sooner he could have his solitary existence back. True, it was a lonely existence, but it was better this way. It was better to be alone than surrounded by people who constantly criticized and made false assumptions based solely on his appearance.