Free Deceit: A Beauty and the Beast Novel by M.J. Haag Page B

watched him bite into the bread, and I
considered it our first meal together. After eating, he grew
restless, and I suggested we head back for a game in the library.
He padded beside me, not commenting when I winced after stepping on
something sharp. With sore feet, the climb back over the wall
looked daunting.
    “You control the vines, correct?” I said,
staring at the high stone barrier.
    “Yes,” he said, watching me.
    I turned to him with a mischievous smile.
    “Toss me over the wall like you did the first
time we met. Let the vines catch me.”
    He shook his head but gripped my waist with
both hands a moment before flinging me up and over the wall. I
laughed the whole way and landed on a loosely woven vine net. He
sailed over the wall in one smooth vault.
    “We should make a game of that,” I said,
still laughing as I jumped lightly to the ground and sat to tug on
my boots. “It would be fun in water, too, when it’s warmer. The
splashes I could make.” My mind wandered to the calculations of
angles and heights needed until I caught his stare.
    “You are not like other women,” he said
slowly, as if just realizing it.
    Shaking my head at him, I stood and dusted
off the seat of my trousers.
    “A good thing for you, I am not.”
    * * * *
    During the next several days, I discovered
something. The beast knew many games of chance, but very few
intellectual ones. We studied a book of games and learned a few
together. We made an odd pair sitting quietly in the library for
hours, he on his haunches on the floor and me perched in a
chair.
    His mind was a beautiful thing to behold. He
challenged me in a way that made me smile and laugh. But after
mastering a game, he quickly grew bored with it whether he won or
lost. The games of chance never lost his interest, though.
    I studied him as he contemplated the wood
board before us. He seemed relaxed and content, and I wondered if
he knew how many days he’d gone without seeing the enchantress.
Would it be enough?
    Loathe to bring it to his attention, I
continued to try to keep him constantly busy. As the days had
stretched, I had watched for signs of growing agitation. As I’d
guessed, boredom was his worst enemy.
    Though four days had passed since I’d
returned from my last visit to the Water, the games still served us
well. However, I knew he would not tolerate another day of
them.
    “Have you ever wagered on a game?” I asked
softly, not wanting to disturb his concentration.
    “Certainly,” he said absently.
    “Would you care to wager on the outcome of
this game?”
    His gaze rose from the board to study me.
“What kind of wager?”
    “The food is delicious, but I think, if I
should win, I want you to prepare my breakfast. By hand.
Yourself.”
    “And if I win?”
    I quirked a grin.
    “Then I will prepare your food for you in the
morning.”
    He chuckled and nodded, but I could sense his
disinterest in the bet. I smothered my smile. It wasn’t about
winning or losing, but distracting him for another day.
    * * * *
    I woke early and loudly.
    “I’m so hungry,” I called as I sat up in
bed.
    From the adjoining room, I heard a thump and
knew I’d woken him. Light was just starting to filter into my room.
We’d stayed up late to finish the game, which I’d won.
    Of one thing I was absolutely certain. The
beast couldn’t cook.
    Smiling, I dressed in a plain gown—I’d been
favoring the trousers and shirt since our hike to the river—and
washed my mouth and face before walking out into the empty
hallway.
    Following the sounds of clanking and muffled
curses, I found him in the kitchen. The fire roared, warming the
room a bit much, so I opened the door to the outside before moving
out of the way.
    From the chair near the table, I watched him
bumble around. He dropped eggs on the floor and seared one side of
the bacon black. He lost a potato in the fire and singed his fur
trying to get it back out.
    When he set a plate before me, we both
blinked at the mess