Belle’s Quest (Fairytale Bureau #3)

Chapter 4

4

Shocked at finding myself snuggling the prince, I flung myself away as if he were lava. Not quickly enough judging by the heat racing through my veins.

“Sorry,” I mumbled, cheeks hot with embarrassment.

Killian, on the other hand, appeared amused. He lay on the bed and tucked an arm under his head. “Why apologize? I thoughts wives were supposed to drool on their husbands.”

I drooled? I almost wiped my mouth before I realized he teased.

“Not funny,” I muttered.

“Are we having our first marital spat?” He arched a brow. “And the honeymoon’s not even begun.”

“Good thing you have a career as a prince, as you’d make a terrible comedian,” I grumbled without real heat.

His lips curved and I was struck anew by his handsomeness. I glanced away. I had no business admiring Killian. Not only was this marriage a sham but I couldn’t risk infecting him with my curse. I had no idea if being married had nullified the beast effect I had on the men I found myself attracted to. I’d rather not find out. His mother might declare war if I ruined her baby boy.

I headed to the bathroom to brush my teeth, wash my face, and pee. I eyed my overnight ensemble with a grimace. I couldn’t exactly be seen with the prince dressed as a slob. The golden gown I’d removed the night before hung on the back of the door, only it had returned to the simpler version I’d donned. One problem solved. Fancier than my usual daywear but most likely perfect for my first public outing with the prince.

My husband.

A shiver went through me. While my mind understood the sham of our marriage, another part of me, the part that yearned for a happily ever after with someone, couldn’t help a tingly thrill whenever I thought of Killian.

He’s not meant for me. Killian deserved to find love with a princess or at least a lady of his rank, not some nobody who felt more at home with books and tended to turn her romantic interests into hairy beasts.

I emerged from the bathroom to see the prince had dressed casually in his usual attire of worn jeans and an old but clean T-shirt.

“I’m feeling underdressed,” he observed, eyeing my outfit compared to his own.

“It’s all I had. I’ll change when I get to my place.”

“So we’re still going ahead with our plan?”

“If you’re still good with it.” At his nod, I added, “When do you want to leave?”

“Anytime you’re ready.”

“I just need to run by my house first to grab my stuff.”

“We’ll go together after breakfast.”

The prince enjoyed his meals, the unhealthier, the better, in his mind. We grabbed some drive-thru from McDonald’s, a coffee and muffin for me, but he went all out with an egg McMuffin, hashbrowns, pancakes… As I watched him chowing it down in the back seat, I had to marvel at how he managed to remain slim enough to fit into his uniform.

“How do you not get chunky eating so much junk?” I asked as he polished it off.

“Running his mouth,” was Hannah’s commentary from the front. Gerome grunted in agreement from the driver’s seat .

Killian laughed. He did that often. “Good metabolism and lots of cardio, usually from evading bachelorettes.”

“Now that we’re hitched, guess you’ll be letting yourself go.”

“And disappoint my new wife? Never!” he exclaimed, taking the pretense all the way, even in front of our assigned security detail. The first words out of his mouth when Hannah had arrived were, “ Hope we didn’t keep you up last night.”

To which she replied, “No, that would be Levi and his bride.”

I almost cheered. Good for Cinder. She deserved to be loved by someone who didn’t suggest putting out rat poison to get rid of her mice. That fellow had an unfortunate string of run-ins with agents after she’d told us of his suggestion. You didn’t mess with my friends.

The ride to my house proved uneventful, if we ignored the three blind mice that darted across the road.

Gerome parked in my driveway, and Killian whistled. “Good thing I know what story you’re a heroine from, or I’d think you were a witch.”

“Who says I’m not? And what’s wrong with my house?” Sure, it kind of looked like the one from Amityville Horror , and the clapboard siding could use a scrape of the peeling paint and a fresh coat, and maybe the garden needed a bit of weeding, but… Okay, so he had a point. My house did appear kind of spooky.

“I’ll check the perimeter,” Hannah announced. “Gerome, keep the royals out of trouble.”

“I can see she won’t be any fun.” Killian shook his head as Hannah took off to walk the side and back yard.

“Hannah is a good Knight.” Gerome spoke more words than I was used to in one shot.

“Oh, she is, no question about that. A little too good,” Killian complained.

“Poor prince can’t gallivant about causing trouble,” I quipped.

“Ha, if you call trouble me going bowling or mountain climbing. Haven’t been able to do much these past few years. The Cinderellas seem to find me wherever I go.”

Kind of like me and the beasts. It got to the point I rarely interacted with the opposite sex.

It didn’t take Hannah long to scout the outside, and then after grabbing my key, she went inside my house to check for intruders.

Only when she popped out to give the all-clear did Gerome let us out of the car. We walked inside, and Killian uttered a noise. “Your home is a library. ”

My cheeks turned hot as I mumbled, “I like to read.”

“A lot,” he stated. “I’m surprised you have time for anything else.”

I almost said, like what? I worked, ate, slept, and read. That was my entire life since I couldn’t date. I did have some friendships, Cinder and Blanche being my best friends, but we were past the age of partying at clubs and more of the let’s-get-in-our-pjs-it’s-after-eight. Did I love my life? No. The loneliness, especially at night, alone in bed, overwhelmed, but it beat the other option.

“I take it you’re not into books?” I queried.

“Do comics count? I’m a big fan of Archie.”

I didn’t recoil, but it came close.

The man chuckled. “No need to look so horrified. I like the lightness of cartoons after a day spent dealing with politics. While Mom might still be queen, she’s been training me to take over since I graduated university.”

“Big job.”

He sighed. “It is, and while I love Corsica, sometimes it feels like a prison.”

I pointed to the stairs. “I’ll pack a bag and gather my notes. Feel free to wander. Maybe you’ll find a book with words that intrigue.”

“Perish the thought,” he exclaimed, giving an exaggerated look of horror. He tucked his hands behind his back and wandered into my living room with Gerome on his heels.

Hannah shadowed me as I trotted up the stairs and headed for my bedroom. I entered and beelined for the closet, only to realize I didn’t have a proper suitcase. I’d never actually travelled. I might have stuffed my things in a plastic bag until I saw my bureau-assigned case sitting by the dresser. I’d not brought it to the ball because I hated lugging it around.

It didn’t take long to dump it out—vampire stake, holy water, silver cord, salt, candles, and various other emergency items given to all the agents—most of which were useless. Despite that, we were supposed to have our cases with us at all times, but most tended to tuck a single weapon onto their person and leave the oversized suitcase behind.

My nape prickled as I shut and latched the suitcase, leading me to whirl around, expecting to see Hannah. The doorway remained empty. Odd. I poked my head out of my room to see Hannah down the hall, standing watch at the top of the staircase.

I exited, lugging my suitcase, and headed to my investigative chamber next. I wondered what the prince would have thought of my research. Then again, why would I care?

While I had most of my notes saved in files uploaded to the cloud, I couldn’t be sure I’d have internet access where we’d be going, so I took some pictures of a few things. My map on the wall with all the green pins, the color I’d chosen for the earliest confirmed curses, plus some notes I’d been compiling comparing the earliest Grimm tales to later adaptions, pinpointing differences so as to weed out the versions that didn’t show up until later.

As I flipped through my notebook, taking images, the sensation of being watched returned. A glance around showed no one there, and yet I couldn’t help but feel ill at ease. That discomfiture led to me rushing and, in turn, made me clumsy. I somehow tripped on the chair I’d thought tucked under the desk, and I went reeling. My arms windmilled, seeking balance, but my body kept staggering. I hit the edge of my desk hard, and my hand came down on a pushpin.

“Fucking hell.” I cursed rather than whine as I plucked the tack from my palm. A bead of blood welled, and I sucked it. Clumsy but no harm done.

Or so I thought until my knees buckled.