Betty jerked his chin. “I’m not her. I’m Betty Hart. I don’t judge.”
He snarled. “Of course you do. You judged me from the moment you met me.”
“Hey,” she smacked him on the chest, “probably because you were trying to play tonsil hockey with me, makes a girl jumpy.”
He shook his head. “You make no sense.”
She sighed. “Gerard, I didn’t know you. But today, seeing you with Briley, how patient you were, how gentle…”
The pendant on her chest began to glow, bands of deepest indigo swirled like newly cut amethyst in the sunlight, and his pulse jerked hard, blood rushed to his ears. She did not stop talking, did not seem to notice what he’d seen, what had stirred hope like a seedling shooting from within the earth. The pendant still glowed in red and gold, but now there was purple, and the anger abated with the knowledge. Betty was falling in love with him.
Remembering his goal, he channeled his focus, knowing he must forget his anger.
“…you made him feel special. It’s not often he gets to teach a grown up to read. Thank you.” Then she kissed him.
A chaste peck on his cheek, but it was the first time Betty had ever initiated a kiss. Her touch burned fire, and he wanted to rub the spot where her lips had pressed against him.
Black hair tumbled around her pale shoulders like shadow. Like a moth drawn to its glowing demise, Gerard touched the silky strand lying across her breast. She shivered, her mouth parted, and the world around them melted into oblivion.
Gerard wanted to freeze this moment, remember it always. The way her pink belly shirt exposed her navel, how her nipples puckered-- presenting themselves like jewels to his waiting mouth. He licked his lips, wishing he could do more than touch her hair.
“Would you like to learn?” she asked, her sultry voice made him tremble.
He nodded, not knowing why he wanted to, only knowing he needed to. Needed to feel whole, needed to feel she saw him as more than an ignorant brute. “Yes, Cherie, I wish to learn.”
Chapter 14
Betty pointed to the book-- at the picture of the little girl smiling at a running dog. “See spot run,” she repeated slowly.
“Dammit,” Gerard growled and flung the book off the kitchen table. “This is stupid.”
Betty sighed and walked to the spot on the floor he dumped the book, she picked it up and opened it again. She wasn’t angry or even annoyed with him. It was humiliating for him-- she knew-- for her to see him this way. A man like Gerard couldn’t bear her thinking him weak. Not that she saw him that way, but perception was reality, at least in his mind.
“Gerard, it’s how you’ll learn. Trust me. Simple repetition, learning how to properly stress your vowels. It’s how we all learned to read.”
“It’s a kids book. Nursery rhymes. I’m a man,” he pounded his chest. His very bare, naked chest. The man seriously had a thing against clothes.
Then again, when they looked as yummy as he did, clothes were definitely optional. Betty grinned, and patted his hand. He gripped her fingers, giving it a tender squeeze and her heart tilted.
“You put that brilliant mind to good use and hurry up and learn then.” She picked up his mug of tea and took a sip. He narrowed his eyes. They’d fallen into strange habits lately-- Betty taking swigs of his breakfast tea, and he eating her leftovers. She kind of liked it-- no scratch that-- she loved it. Loved seeing him in the morning, cuddling up to him at night, Betty was growing way too used to it, and didn’t want to think about what would happen when their month was up. Thankfully, that wasn’t for another two and half weeks and fourteen hours.
Not like she’d been keeping count or anything.
“I’ve gotta go to work.” She checked her watch. “How do I look?” She twirled, her pastel flower printed dress hugged her calves and made her feel sexy. Lately her wardrobe had taken a huge upswing from jeans and sweaters, to dresses and hip hugging skirts.
He looked her up and down, a slow perusal that made her thighs tingle and her nipples harden.
Gerard smirked. “You are fortunate I cannot drag you to the bedroom, mon petite.”
Stomach taking a serious nosedive, she tripped over her feet and headed to the door. Wishing like hell he could. She wasn’t fortunate at all, because at this point she felt just as cursed as him.
“I’ll be back,” she called over her shoulder, running from him, from the temptation of a forbidden fruit and the very real knowledge that when this was all over, she’d be lucky to have a still beating heart.
His laughter floated behind her.
***
Betty missed him. She kept sneaking glances at the wall clock. Two hours left. She wanted to call, just to hear his voice. But what would she say? ‘I miss you. You’re so hot. Let’s have wild sex.’ Which of course could never happen.