Rolling to the side, Eleanor smiled at the sight of Rafe’s body curled into hers. A week. A week of sweet, good morning kisses before he went to work on the grounds. A week of stolen minutes in the shade of the trellis…or under the Magnolia trees…or in the rose garden. A week of nights spent making love, either at his cottage or up at the manor. A week of neither caring about the outside world, only the world they were creating together.

He stretched and she watched in fascination at the play of muscles as they rippled under his tan skin. Lifting her finger, she traced the intricate tattoos on his arms and side. He snatched her fingers, kissing them one at a time.

She stared, mesmerized, as he continued to kiss each one, not seeming to mind, or even notice, the scars. The heavy weight she had been carrying around for years seemed to slowly dissipate with each kiss.

He looked from her fingertips to her face, her beautiful smile aimed at him. “You sleep okay, sweetheart?”

“Yeah,” she whispered. “Perfect. Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“Will you tell me about your tattoos?”

Chuckling, he said, “Zander and I used to talk about what kind of tattoos we wanted to get when we were old enough.” Hesitating, he added, “I know it’ll sound stupid, but when I was growing up in Miss Ethel’s house, we listened to him read fairy tales all the time. When we decided to get tattoos, we told the artist to design something from the pages of the book we showed him. We both got sleeves and this is what I choose.”

Her finger traced the intricate picture covering his arm muscles. “It’s beautiful,” she breathed.

He stared at her, a smile playing about his lips. “What have you got planned for today?”

“Sally is coming today, so I’ll spend time with her. What about you?”

“I’m heading into town this morning. I told Zander that I’d stop by Grimm’s. Also, I’ve ordered some natural fertilizer and something else. I’ll go pick them both up today. Then, after I mow, I’m going to keep working on the terrace.”

Her brow knit as she queried, “What else do you need to do to the terrace?”

Grinning, he planted a kiss on her lips once more before saying, “It’s a surprise.”

Rolling out of bed, he stalked into the bathroom, leaving her watching his delectable ass in retreat, wondering what he was working on.

* * *

Rafe walked into Grimm’s, and waved at the servers. Joe, one of the bartenders, jerked his head toward the back and with a chin lift in reply, he headed down the hall toward the office. The door was open so he rapped on the doorframe, smiling as Zander’s head lifted.

The men greeted each other with back slaps before sitting down. “You look happy,” Zander said, his gaze piercing Rafe.

“Feeling happy,” came the simple reply.

“Seems like hard labor agrees with you.”

Rafe barked out a laugh. “You saying my modeling wasn’t hard labor?”

Zander rolled his eyes, then asked, “Have you decided what you’re going to do at the end of the summer?”

He rubbed his chin in thought, sighing heavily. “To be honest…I don’t know. I mean, I don’t want to go back to California. That life was getting old before, and now, after spending time with Eleanor, I have no desire to return to that.”

“But…” Zander prodded.

Snorting, a rueful sound, he said, “I’m not sure what I’d do instead.”

“What do you want to do? Really want to do?”

He leaned back, rubbing his hand over his face before lifting his gaze to his friend. “Would you believe me if I told you that I’d like to start my own business?” Seeing Zander’s raised eyebrow, he explained, “My dad owned a lawn care business. Sure, it was small, but I’d like to do the same. I’d hire people to run the office and others to take most of the contract work, but I’d like to be able to do what I’m doing at Bellamy House…reclaiming gardens that have fallen into ruins.”

“So, what’s stopping you, man?”

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. “Never thought I was the kind of man who was afraid. Now, I sometimes wonder if I haven’t always searched out what was safe.”

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Safe. You know…I let you fight my battles when we were kids. I joined the military because I couldn’t think of anything else to do. You were doing it, so it just seemed like the thing to do also. I fell into modeling because it was just offered to me, and I never had to really work for it.”

Zander nodded, saying, “Never thought of it that way.”

“But, now, I’m creating on my own. Working on my own. Designing the gardens on my own. I’m using skills that I know my father used, plus all that Miss Ethel taught me. It feels like I’m doing something that I want…not just something that I fell into.”

“And Eleanor?”

A slow smile spread across his face at the thought of her beauty and strength. “What would you say if I told you I’m falling in love with her? She’s beautiful, smart, strong, a fighter. And becoming more important to me every day.”

Zander grinned in return, shaking his head. “I swear it wasn’t that many months ago that you questioned how I could fall in love with Rosalie so fast.”

“I was an idiot!” he exclaimed, falling back in his chair with a huff. “And so glad you didn’t listen to me!”

“So are you going to tell her how you feel?”

Nodding his head, he smiled at his best friend. “Yeah…just as soon as I can.”

The sound of feet running down the hall had both of them swinging their heads toward the door. Rosalie rounded the corner, rushing into the office, her face flushed, blonde ponytail whipping around her head, her hands clutching a newspaper.

“Babe,” Zander called out, jumping up from his chair. “What’s wrong?”

“Rafe!” she cried, breathing heavily, ignoring Zander and rushing straight to him. “This…in the grocery store…you’ve got to see this!”

Surprised, he looked down at the gossip paper from one of the grocery stands. “Huh?” he said, taking the paper from her hands. Reading the headline, he paled, sucking in a deep breath. “Oh, no. Fucking hell, no!”

* * *

Eleanor stood from the family room sofa, stretched her back and walked down the hall toward the kitchen. Sally was expected soon and she wanted to make sure she had the coffee ready. Sally might have been the family’s long-time housekeeper, but she was also a friend and Eleanor always made sure to have the coffee on.

Just as she entered the sun-filled kitchen, she heard the front door open. “Sally?” she called out. “I’m in the kitchen.”

Sally walked in but instead of putting her bag down, she immediately moved straight into Eleanor’s space and grabbed her shoulders, pulling her in for a deep hug. Eleanor patted her back, but wondered about the gesture—it had a desperate feel to it. Before she had a chance to speak, Sally jumped in.

“Is Rafe here? Is he still here?”

Opening her mouth then closing it quickly, she tilted her head to the side. “Uh…Rafe?” At Sally’s intent stare, she shook her head. “No, he went into town. Why? Do you need him?”

Sally’s face twisted into a grimace as she took her by the hand and dragged her to a kitchen chair, gently pushing her down before plopping heavily into the closest one. “Has he talked to you? Told you who he is?”

A sweet smile crossed her face as she nodded. “I told you we were getting closer, Sally. We’ve shared. I’ve told him all about the family, my time in the Army, my injury…everything. I’ve held nothing back.”

“But has he talked to you as well?”

“Yes, of course,” she said, defensively. “He’s told me of his family, being raised by Miss Ethel. Sally, you know all of this…why are you acting so strangely?”

“Because he hasn’t been honest with you, that’s why!” Sally bit out, her voice filled with pain. She bent to retrieve a newspaper from her satchel, unfolding it to the front page and smoothing it out with her hands before sliding it across the table to her. Tapping the picture on the front, she said, “Here.”

Eleanor’s stomach dropped with dread as her eyes moved from Sally’s tortured face to the gossip rag on the table. She stared in horror at the close-up picture of her in the rose garden, a smile on her face, her scarred neck, shoulder and arm exposed to the camera’s zoom lens. She was looking up into Rafe’s face, which looked every bit as handsome as she always thought it did. And at the top screamed the headline…Beauty and the Beast.

Gasping, her fingers involuntarily clenched, wadding the paper under their grip. Forcing them to relax, she read the article.

International model, Rafe Walker, discovered after appearing in the Hunks of the Army Calendar, is seen with a woman, whose appearance is unlike most of his famous dates. This comes as a surprise, seeing as his most recent relationship with actress Cherelle Parkinson is said to be ready to resume, as the two will soon be working together again. The woman, Eleanor Bellamy, certainly doesn’t look like his usual partners, as he is usually seen in the company of Los Angeles socialites, actresses, and models. It is rumored she lives, secluded, in a Gothic castle in Virginia, far from the eyes of the public. According to Rafe’s agent, the superstar chose to spend his summer performing community service for the shut-in, spreading his appeal from one end of the country to the other. One look at his face and it appears Ms. Bellamy was willing to brave the public. Who knew his sex appeal and beauty had the power to heal the Beast?

Eleanor stared at the words, for a moment unable to process what she was reading. Her eyes moved back to the picture and the headline. Beauty and the Beast. She was the beast. They were labeling her the beast. Her gaze dropped from the picture of the two of them, showcasing Rafe’s handsome physique, to a series of pictures below the article. In each one, he was paired with a drop-dead gorgeous woman, though most were with the known actress, Cherelle Parkinson. A bevy of women, dressed to kill, all on the arm of the man she thought of as her friend…lover…and she had hoped more.

“Oh, sweet girl, I’m so sorry,” Sally said, her face filled with regret as her eyes filled with tears, her hands reaching out to clutch Eleanor’s. “I didn’t want to show this to you, but you had to see it. I couldn’t let you go on thinking he’s something he’s not.”

“But he…we…what he’s told me. You don’t know what we have, Sally. He wouldn’t lie to me…” But he did. It’s right here in black and white.

Eleanor was no stranger to pain. The pain of her burns. The pain of losing her family. The pain of her scars. But the pain ripping at her heart at that moment was just as devastating. A sob wrenched from her chest, an animalistic growl from deep inside breaking free as she fell into Sally’s arms.