Lucky Stars

Chapter Eighteen Happy

Belle

Belle woke up, hearing her own low, deep-throated moan.

This, she realised immediately, was because Jack’s hand was cupped on her breast, his thumb doing lazy circles around her nipple which did delicious things to her state of being and his tongue was gliding along the skin behind her ear which made those delicious things delectable.

“Jack?” she whispered, her brain not yet connected to her body and her body not under her control.

This point was further proved when, the instant Jack heard his name, he shifted her to her back and covered her with his long, hard frame, his lips taking hers in a deep, open-mouthed, tongues tangling, mind-boggling, upon-waking kiss.

It had only been weeks since he’d kissed her like this but Belle had forgotten how good it felt. She’d forgotten how much she loved Jack’s kisses. She’d forgotten how lost she could get, forgetting to be meek and mild, becoming the Belle she wanted to be.

Therefore, she kissed him back.

He growled in her mouth.

His growl shot straight between her legs and those legs became restless.

Jack rolled to the side, his mouth never disengaging, his kisses long and sweet, his hand drifted down her belly, over her hip then, against her mouth he demanded in a deep, hoarse voice that sent shivers through her, “Open your legs for me, poppet.”

Belle didn’t hesitate. Her legs parted for him and as his tongue danced with hers, his fingers trailed down the insides of her thighs then up, along the edges of her panties then down again, feather-soft on her sensitive skin.

She wrapped her arms around him, mindlessly sliding her fingers along the muscled skin of his back, his sides, his waist, anywhere she could reach.

Somewhere from far away, she heard Jack murmur, “Further, Belle.”

“What?” she breathed, confused, her mind disengaged, her entire being centred on her thighs, his fingers and all the beauty she was feeling.

“Spread your legs further, love,” Jack whispered and she felt another rush of heat and wetness between those legs and, because of that, she did as he demanded and felt her reward, his smile against her lips. “That’s it, poppet, open for me.” At his encouragement, she spread her legs even wider.

His mouth took hers in another hot, demanding kiss as his fingers continued their beautiful torture, whisper-light touches, so close but not close enough. She’d tense, preparing for his touch, needing his invasion, certain it was coming but then they’d glide away.

When she thought she could take no more, suddenly they were there, lightly dancing across her panties in a sensuous tease.

She moaned deep in her throat and felt his groan against her tongue.

He pulled away, muttered, “So fucking wet,” and then he was gone.

“Jack?” she breathed in sudden confusion but she needn’t have worried. She felt his hands strong on her hips, pushing up her nightgown then pulling down her panties then his mouth was right there.

She arched her back right before she lifted her hips, seeking maximum contact with his mouth, his tongue and all the glorious things they were doing to her.

“Oh God,” she moaned, rocking her hips against his mouth.

She’d forgotten how good he was at this.

How could she forget?

She was close, so close, her hands in his hair, demanding more.

Then suddenly, she lifted her torso up, scooted away and Jack’s mouth disengaged.

Desperate for something else, she pulled at his shoulders and he came over her, rolling to his back, taking her with him, muttering, “Belle –”

She lifted, sitting astride him, pulling his upper body to hers and her mouth went to his.

“Teach me,” she begged against his mouth, rubbing herself against his groin.

“Belle, love, I don’t under –”

“I’ve never done it. Teach me how to do it at the same time,” she pleaded and she saw his eyes flash hot before his hand fisted in her hair, crushing her mouth to his as his other hand came between their bodies.

She felt him guide himself inside.

Her crazy, spinning-out-of-control world, all of a sudden righted the minute he slid inside.

Instantly she started moving up and down, riding him, frantic as he kissed her and his thumb pressed between her legs, its strong, determined circling sending shudders down her thighs.

“I felt so empty,” she muttered against his mouth. “Jack, so empty.” Her voice was husky, her words not coming from her brain but somewhere else. “It’s so good to be full of you again.”

“Belle,” he murmured, her name coming at her as deep and throaty as her words had been and his mouth captured hers again. He sat up, her head tipping down to keep contact with his mouth, her movements became frenzied, his thumb more determined and he tore his lips from hers and ordered, “Finish, my love.” She shook her head, holding back, wanting to wait, wanting to feel more of this, more of him, wanting to be full of him forever.

His hand in her hair tilted her face to his and he demanded, “Finish, love, right now.”

And she did as she was told, still rearing uncontrollably against his hardness, seeking, demanding, impaling him deep inside her even as her climax scored straight through to her soul.

It was so intense, so thorough, Belle was, many heady moments later, disappointed to see that she missed his.

Before she could form a thought, Jack fell to his back, taking her with him, pulling the covers over their bodies without losing their intimate connection.

She tucked her face in his neck, her thoughts scattered. She tried to catch even one and found the only thing she could focus on was his warmth, his body hard and strong under hers, their connection making her feel complete.

One of his hands travelled up and down her back as the other slid through her hair and after awhile, he murmured, “I missed you, poppet.”

She felt the tears well and without her faculties engaging, she couldn’t stop them from sliding from her eyes.

“Belle?”

“You don’t think I’m wanton?” she blurted, her embarrassed mind swiftly filled with recent memories of her begging, her desperation, her frantic movements.

She felt his body shake under hers and her head lifted so she could look at him.

He was laughing.

“What’s funny now?” she wailed and both his hands came to her face, his fingers gliding into her hair but his thumbs moved along the tears on her cheeks.

He didn’t answer her. Instead, still chuckling, he asked, “Why on earth are you crying?”

Her eyes moved to his ear which, she found, now with lots of practice, was the safest place to look, especially if he was naked.

She considered his question.

Then she answered his ear with, “I don’t…” her voice hitched and she finished on a stammer, “don’t know.”

His hands on her face tensed and he ordered gently, “Look at me.”

She licked her lips and her eyes went to his.

His eyes were warm, they were tender, they were amused and…

She stared at him, her heart leaping.

She hadn’t seen it in weeks but she saw it then, right in his eyes.

He looked happy.

Her tears instantly stopped and, out of the blue, she asked, “Jack, are you happy?”

The warmth in his eyes intensified mere moments before he burst out laughing and his arms wrapped around her so tight she was forced to collapse against him and tuck her face into his neck again.

“What’s funny now?” she demanded over his laughter.

His voice was still vibrating with amusement when he answered, “You’re here, I’m here, you’re in my arms and I’m still inside you. I just watched you come so hard I thought for a second you were going to pass out and, I have to admit, love, my orgasm was nearly as fucking good as yours and you’re asking me if I’m happy?”

There was a lot there but Belle’s mind immediately honed in on the part she thought she needed to get straight.

“I didn’t, um,” she hesitated then skipped over the embarrassing bit, deciding he’d figure it out, “so hard that I nearly passed out.”

“Poppet, your eyes rolled back in your head and I could swear for a moment you were in a trance,” he replied.

She pulled against his arms so she could glare down at him.

Seriously!

How smug could he be?

“Hardly,” she snapped.

He grinned.

It was then she realised he was teasing.

“Stop teasing me, Jack,” she demanded.

“Stop being so easy to tease, Belle,” he returned, still grinning.

She slapped his arm and demanded, “Stop it!”

Jack rolled her to her back, their bodies disconnected but he tangled his legs with hers and let a goodly amount of his warm weight rest on her which was almost as nice as feeling him inside so she didn’t protest.

He was still smiling when he looked down at her. “All right Belle. No more teasing.” He touched his lips to hers and when he pulled away, his eyes were still tender and amused but his words were serious. She knew this because they were low and rumbly. “To answer your question, yes, Belle, for the first time in what feels like a long time, I’m happy.”

She felt her belly melt and so did her body.

Because she believed him.

And she knew it was her that was making him happy.

Not the thought of her having his baby. Not temporary insanity. Not the heretofore unknown prospect that they were living in an alternate universe.

All of these (and then some) were possibilities her mind came up with in the last three and a half weeks as to why he didn’t, without delay, leave her when he found out she’d lost their baby.

No, she made him happy in the real, the here, the now.

She, Meek and Mild Belle Abbot was making him, criminally handsome James Bennett, happy.

She let that thought settle in her heart, her soul and, finally, her mind and surprisingly even her mind let that thought be.

His hand sifted into her hair at the side of her head and his eyes stayed tender but lost their humour when he asked, “Now, poppet, what I’d like to know is, are you?”

She sensed this question meant a great deal to him so she answered honestly.

“No.” When she watched his jaw get hard she lifted her hand, rested it against that hard, handsome, morning stubbled jaw and continued on a whisper, “But, with all your help, I’m getting there.”

His forehead dropped to hers and he murmured with feeling, “Thank God.”

Then afraid but feeling ready, Belle admitted softly, “I’m sorry I went away. I missed you too, Jack.”

She felt the air turn velvet all around them as his face went soft.

Then she felt nothing at all but his lips on hers and his arms crushing her tight.

Belle and Jack walked hand in hand into the dining room.

They were late for breakfast.

Everyone was there, including, surprisingly, Olive.

“Hi Olive,” Belle smiled at the woman as Olive’s gaze came to her.

“Belle, you look beautiful, as ever,” Olive replied, her eyes sharp and Belle had the weird impression Olive not only could read her thoughts but was doing so.

Then Olive looked to Jack and she gave him the same assessing stare.

Jack pulled out Belle’s chair, she sat and he helped her scoot it to the table before his hand cupped her jaw, his thumb slid along her cheekbone and she saw that tender look in his eyes as the sweet feel of velvet hit the air.

His hand dropped, he moved around her and sat at the head of the table.

Belle, temporarily in Jack and Belle Land where no one else existed, came back into the room and glanced at her audience.

Joy, Yasmin, Gram and Mom were engaged in sipping coffee, slathering toast with butter and forking eggs into their mouths. They were veterans of Jack’s loving demonstrations and didn’t notice a thing.

Olive was glancing between the two of them and seemed to find her readings of Jack and Belle, post-accident, heartbreaking loss of unborn child were acceptable but she was keeping an eye out. And yes, Belle barely knew Olive but she could still read that with a look.

Cassandra was looking amused but this look was directed at Angus.

Then she said (bizarrely), “So Joshua.”

“Lass, no’ even,” Angus (bizarrely) flashed back.

Belle’s Dad was staring at Jack.

Then he said, “Dude,” as if this one word spoke volumes.

Jack’s eyes went to Belle’s father and he asked, “Jensen, to which ‘dude’ at this table are you referring?”

“You,” Dad replied.

“And?” Jack prompted.

“Seriously,” Dad answered on a grin though that wasn’t really an answer, it was clear her father thought it was.

Jack’s brows went up then his gaze came to Belle as if she could interpret.

“Don’t ask me,” Belle murmured and Jack looked back at her father.

“Jensen, would you care to elaborate?”

But her father apparently did not care to elaborate because he looked at Mom and remarked, “Is it me or do English dudes speak funny?”

“‘Elaborate’ is hardly a funny word, Jenny,” Lila spoke up.

“Do you say ‘elaborate’?” Dad asked Gram but before Gram could respond, Dad went on, “I don’t say ‘elaborate’. Jesus, I don’t know anyone who says ‘elaborate’. I don’t even know what ‘elaborate’ means.”

“I say elaborate,” Olive put in.

“You don’t count, you’re English,” Dad retorted.

“Jack means explain, Dad,” Belle decided, unusually unwisely, to wade in.

“Well, why doesn’t he just say ‘explain’?” Dad demanded to know.

“Jack’s sitting right there, Jenny, don’t talk about him like he isn’t even here,” Mom scolded. “It’s rude.”

At her mother’s words and the look on her father’s face when he heard them, with lots of experience with this type of situation, Belle’s stomach plummeted and she muttered, “Oh dear.”

At the same time Gram mumbled, “Uh-oh.”

And Jensen Abbot didn’t contradict Gram and Belle’s years of experience.

Therefore, as if he didn’t have an audience, most of whom he’d known less than twenty-four hours. And as if he wasn’t the guest at the rather opulent dining room table in an imposing castle owned by his daughter’s criminally handsome, unbelievably rich, unmistakably famous boyfriend who he also had known for just a hint more than twenty-four hours, Jensen’s voice rose.

“Woman, tell me you didn’t just call me rude.”

Mom as well (and as usual), instantly forgot her audience when she returned, “Jenny, I did because you were.”

“Rachel –” Gram tried to intervene but Dad put his hand up, palm toward Gram, the whole time he did this his head was twisted to Mom.

“I’m not rude. I’m never rude,” Dad told Mom. “That’s the best thing I gave our daughter. Consideration.” Dad moved his glare to Belle. “Isn’t that right, baby girl?”

Before Belle could speak, her mother did. “Jeez, Jenny, Jack’s sitting right there and you went on and on about how he talks and then spoke about him like he wasn’t in the room.”

“Mom –” Belle decided to give it a go, knowing she’d fail but she tried anyway.

“Give your Mom and me a second, girl,” Dad said, as if he hadn’t just, seconds earlier, tried to drag her into the discussion. He was again looking at Rachel when he demanded, “Take it back.”

“Don’t be childish, Jenny,” Mom scoffed and Dad’s face went red.

Gram looked at the ceiling and Belle bit her lip for. They knew this heralded an escalation in hostilities.

“I’m thinking that sex-a-thon should have been longer,” Yasmin muttered to Cassandra and Cassandra laughed quietly.

Clearly not hearing the byplay, Dad shouted, “Don’t call me childish!”

“I’ll call you whatever I want!” Mom shouted back.

“Jensen, Rachel, look at me,” Jack demanded in a way that both their eyes moved to him immediately.

Belle caught a look at her grandmother’s face, Lila was gazing at Jack expectantly and her expression said, “This is going to be good.”

Belle looked back at Jack when he ordered, “Take it somewhere else.”

“But –” Dad started to protest.

“Now,” Jack ordered.

Dad’s eyes went wide before he recklessly commented, “You’re young enough to be my son.”

“True, but barely,” Jack replied. “However, this is my table and you’re sitting at it. Rachel was not kidding when she said you don’t embarrass Belle. Since you didn’t listen to her, I’ll repeat it and you better listen to me. You don’t embarrass Belle. If you do, you’ll find yourself not welcome at this table. Understood?”

Instead of getting angry or embarrassed, Belle watched as her father’s eyes lit. They swung to Belle and he remarked, “I love it, little girl, you caught yourself a live one!”

Jack called Dad’s attention back to him when he repeated, “Jensen, I asked if I was understood.”

Dad grinned at Jack and said, “Dude. Sure. No embarrassing Belle. I’m not stupid. I got it.” Then, like an adolescent with attention deficit disorder (in other words, per usual), his eyes focused on the pots of jam and he asked, “Can someone pass me that marmalade? It’s the shit. Who said English food is crap? These sausages are fuckin’ great!”

As Belle watched Jack’s jaw get hard (again), Belle felt it welling up inside her and, even though she tried to hold it back, she couldn’t. Therefore, she leaned forward and grabbed his fisted hand which was resting on the table right when he opened his mouth to speak or, possibly, explode.

His head turned to her and she was softly giggling when she squeezed his hand and shook her head.

Through her giggles, she said quietly for his ears only, “Let it go, honey. Trust me, it isn’t worth it.”

At her words, for some reason the air instantly went velvet, his eyes grew soft and tender and his hand unclenched, twisted, caught hers and gave a squeeze before he let her go, let his irritation go and calmly poured them coffee.

Yes, Belle thought, watching him pour his coffee after he’d poured hers, the feeling was back.

Head over heels in love.

And that empty feeling that settled inside her in a way she thought it would never leave after the baby died started, slowly, but surely, to fade away.

“Now that the entertainment portion of the morning is over,” Gram announced. “Perhaps we can discuss more pertinent issues.”

“Yeesh,” Dad muttered. “How long ya’ll been here? Lila’s talking all English.”

“’Pertinent’, Jenny, means ‘important’,” Mom whispered back.

“Whatever,” Dad mumbled.

Yasmin snorted.

Belle ignored this because she watched Jack’s serious eyes lock on Angus before he announced, “Olive and I have work and so do you and Cassandra. Let’s do this now.”

“You got it, lad,” Angus agreed.

Jack looked to Lila. “How much does Belle know?”

Belle stopped reaching for the toast when Gram answered, “She knows Myrtle and Lewis were there when she fell, she knows they’ve disappeared and she knows all the readings have come back negative.”

Belle’s eyes scanned the table and she asked, “Is there more to know?”

Everyone, including her father but not Jack, looked uncomfortable.

Jack looked annoyed.

His eyes caught hers and he explained, “Apparently, poppet, you and I are Joshua and Brenna reincarnated.”

At his announcement and what it might mean that he knew, Belle felt her own eyes grow wide, her heart skipped a beat and her gaze flew to her grandmother.

Lila gave her a quick, negative shake of the head.

Belle swallowed and looked back to Jack, asking, “We are?”

“Not reincarnated reincarnated,” Angus put in. “You see –”

“Give it up, Angus,” Cassandra interrupted at the same time Jack clipped, “Not now.”

“What not now?” Belle enquired.

“Nothing, love. The important thing is,” Jack took her hand, “something or,” his eyes cut to Angus when he said, “someone,” he looked back at Belle, “was there the night of the accident.”

Belle nodded. “The third ghost.”

“Perhaps,” Jack muttered.

“Perhaps?” Angus asked.

Jack’s green eyes were intense when he studied Belle a moment before he asked, “Are you all right to talk about this?”

Knowing what he meant, Belle nodded.

Jack looked at Angus. “Belle and I talked about things last night. She says someone pushed her.”

“Oh my God,” Joy breathed.

“What the fuck?” Dad, clearly having been briefed at some point, exploded.

“Pushed her?” Lila whispered angrily.

Belle nodded at her grandmother then chanced a glance at her mother’s pale face.

“She didn’t hear anything, feel anything or sense anything,” Jack stated, his eyes on Angus, obviously filling him in. “She just felt the hand in her back.”

“Impossible,” Angus muttered.

“I felt it,” Belle whispered.

Jack didn’t whisper when at the same time he said nearly the same words, “She felt it.”

“This is not good,” Cassandra declared.

“You think?” Dad snapped.

“Did anyone here that night see anything? Anyone?” Jack asked and Lila, Joy, Yasmin, Rachel, Cassandra and Angus all shook their heads but Jack pressed, “Hear a car? See headlights? Hear doors opening? Anyone moving around the house?”

“Nothing, Jack,” Rachel said softly.

“We were working but we would have noticed something like that,” Cassandra put in.

“We need to talk to those children,” Angus added.

“Can you reach them?” Jack asked.

Angus and Cassandra exchanged a look then Cassandra nodded at Jack. “There are ways.”

“I don’t want them hurt,” Belle said softly.

“Belle –” Jack started but she shook her head.

“Or afraid,” Belle went on. “I don’t want them hurt or afraid.”

“Poppet, you said Lewis was there and he saw something. We need to know what he saw,” Jack replied gently.

“I know, Jack, but I don’t care. They’re children,” Belle said.

“They’ve been around for two hundred years,” Yasmin put in.

Belle looked at Cassandra and Angus. “That’s true. Do they age mentally?”

Angus looked like he was biting the inside of his lip. Cassandra took in a deep breath.

“Well?” Belle pushed.

“They’re arrested,” Cassandra answered. “They experience life on our plane and they learn, say, about cars and fashions and news. But, they don’t mature. At least not in my experience. Angus?” she turned to the Scotsman.

“No, lass, they’re still wee ones,” Angus replied. “Like Cass said, arrested, psychologically and emotionally.”

Belle looked back to Jack and repeated, “I don’t want them hurt or afraid.”

Jack studied her a moment then looked at Angus. “Does that tie our hands?”

“A bit, lad,” Angus replied. “We’ll have to get creative.”

“Then get creative,” Jack demanded.

“What happens now?” Joy asked.

Everyone looked at Angus and Cassandra.

It was Cassandra who spoke.

“First, we have to know what we’re dealing with. Is there another entity, or not?” She glanced around the table and then went on, “Second, if there’s another entity, we need to know who he is and what his purpose is here. And, once we know that, we need to decide what to do with him.” She looked around the table again and then continued, “Third, we need to understand what the children know about this other entity and their own situation. Our goal is to release them but we’ve no idea how to do that. There are ways to dispose of ghosts but that means disposal. We want these children to go to the next plane. To do that, we have to find out how to help them get there. It’s different for every ghost, what will send them to the next plane, whichever one they’re destined for. From local lore, the children seem to have some idea which is good, most ghosts don’t. We’ll need to piece it all together and see what we can do.”

She stopped talking but everyone kept looking at her.

“That’s it?” Yasmin asked.

“It isn’t an exact science,” Cassandra answered.

“It isn’t science at all,” Dad muttered.

Angus ignored Dad and added, “I think we may need to bring in reinforcements.”

“How much is that going to cost?” Gram asked, her voice rising.

Angus opened his mouth to speak but Jack got there first.

“Do it.”

Angus closed his mouth and his eyes swung to Jack.

“Do it, I don’t give a fuck who it is, how sane they are or how much they cost,” Jack clipped. “Just do it. I want this done.”

Angus nodded but he said stoutly, “Lad, The McPhersons charge by the job, not the hour. It’s the same flat fee for everyone.”

“And I’m knocking my rate down fifty percent, because, well,” Cassandra stopped talking, her eyes hit Belle, Belle’s cheeks became hot and Cassandra looked back at Jack, “just because.”

“Dude and dudette, I don’t know if you read the papers,” Dad informed them, “but Jack’s loaded. He drives a Jag. I know, I rode in it yesterday. It’s sah… weet.”

Before Belle could take exception to her father encouraging the Ghost Helpers to overcharge Jack, her mother perked up.

“Speaking of cars, Jack, I’ve been meaning –”

Belle’s blood pressure soared and, as it did so, her mouth said, “Mom –”

“In a minute, honeypot,” Rachel didn’t even look at Belle but kept talking to Jack, “See, her car –”

“Mom!” Belle snapped.

“What about her car?” Dad asked and then he looked at Belle. “Isn’t it safe?”

“It’s safe, Dad,” Belle assured her father and looked at her mother. “And Mom, shut up.”

“What’s this about?” Jack asked, his eyes narrowed.

“Rachel wants you to buy Belle a Jag. British racing green.” Yasmin explained helpfully and Belle’s heart squeezed.

Belle clutched Jack’s hand which still held hers and said urgently, “Jack, you don’t have to buy me –”

But Jack was looking at Olive, “See to it.”

Belle’s mouth dropped open.

“Yee ha!” Rachel shouted.

Olive nodded and said firmly, “Done.”

Lila grinned at Belle.

So did Joy.

“And Rachel and I want to be car twins,” Yasmin added, pressing the advantage. Belle heard the blood rushing to her ears and wondered if you could fight back a stroke.

“What kind of car do you drive?” Dad asked.

“Audi TT coupe,” Yasmin answered.

“Sah… weet.” Dad smiled.

“Lease an Audi for Rachel,” Jack said to Olive and Belle’s hand jerked in his but he ignored it and turned to Lila. “Is there anything you want?”

“Oh my goodness gracious,” Belle whispered.

“Nope,” Lila grinned at him. “I’ll just borrow the Jag or the Audi whenever I need to take a joyride.”

“I’m thinking Corvette,” Dad threw in.

Belle had had enough and therefore announced, “If you buy or lease my father a Corvette, Jack, I swear I’m going to jump into the Channel and not stop swimming until I hit France.”

“Bellerina!” Dad shouted.

Jack studied Belle, his eyes lit with amusement and he looked at Dad. “Sorry, Jensen. The Abbot luck just ran out.”

“Always the fuckin’ way,” Dad muttered.

Belle decided to ignore it all and announced, “I need to go to work.”

“You need to eat breakfast,” Jack reminded her.

She looked down at her empty plate and mumbled, “Oh yeah, right.”

“I’ll find Elaine,” Joy said, bustling out of the room.

Jack looked at Angus and Cassandra and stated firmly, “And you two need to go to work.”

“Oh yeah,” Cassandra replied, smiling, “right.”

They both got up and moved from the room.

Belle picked up her coffee cup and took a sip of it’s now not so warm, but still thankfully, caffeinated contents.

“Can I ask at this juncture,” Olive enquired sounding perplexed and not at all happy to be that way, “what on earth you’re on about with ghosts, entities, reincarnation and Corvettes?”

Belle looked at her peeved face and couldn’t hold back a little giggle.

“I’ll explain it after I take Belle to work,” Jack replied.

“If you’re cracking up, Jack Bennett, I’ll need to inform the Board,” Olive said staunchly.

“If you inform the Board of one word uttered at this table I’ll need to reconsider the glowing appraisal I wrote on Friday,” Jack returned.

“Oh yeah,” Olive’s cheeks went pink, “right.” Then she looked at Belle and whispered loudly, “I’ll consider informing the Board after I get my rise and bonus.”

That was when Belle’s little giggle frothed forth as full blown laughter.

And since her laughter was full blown she missed Jack’s warm smile aimed at her.

But she didn’t miss the velvet feel that hit the room.

“Mate,” Belle heard and she stopped on her way to Jack’s study and turned to see Cassandra coming her way.

Jack was going to take her to work, it was well late and Belle was glad that Jack had hired Dirk for the past three and half weeks he’d been a godsend.

After breakfast, Belle had run to their room to do some finishing touches on getting ready and Jack had gone to his study to give Olive some instructions so she could start work while he was driving Belle into St. Ives.

“Hi Cassandra,” Belle greeted.

“You live in Crazy Land,” Cassandra replied, a smile on her face as she arrived at Belle. “I mean, Angus and I just did a job up in Devon and those people were pretty nutty but your parents…”

Her dark brown eyes were dancing and her words were borderline covetous.

“I know,” Belle said quietly, “I’m pretty lucky.”

“You are, mate,” Cassandra replied and her face gentled. “But with the good comes the bad.”

Belle looked into Cassandra’s kind eyes, pulled in a breath through her nose and nodded.

“Let’s be sure this ends good,” Cassandra went on and then held up a necklace. It was a thin, long, silver chain on which hung a small glass amulet surrounded by pretty filigreed silver and it looked like it was filled with baby pink powder. “I need you to wear this at all times,” Cassandra instructed.

Belle caught the amulet in her palm and Cassandra draped the chain over Belle’s hand.

“What is it?” Belle asked.

“Protection. An all-rounder. I don’t know what we might be up against so this is pretty powerful stuff. Should keep you safe from just about anything.”

Belle blinked at her. “Anything?”

Cassandra nodded. “Can’t stop a bullet but there are things it can stop. The powder in that amulet is fifteen years old. It’s fermented. In witchcraft, time is power, power is time. All the best spells, potions and protections have to agitate, the longer the better. Fifteen years, mate, means that powder’s like gold dust.

Belle stared at the fragile glass ball anxiously. “What if it breaks?”

“Belle,” Cassandra got close and grinned, “you think I’d put what amounts to protective gold dust in an unprotected vial? Nothing can break that amulet. Trust me.”

“Okay,” Belle whispered as she put the chain around her neck and the amulet came to rest just below her breasts. She looked up from what appeared, for all intents and purposes, to be a pretty, filigreed glass charm and smiled at Cassandra. “Thank you.”

Cassandra’s hand came up, gave Belle’s upper arm a squeeze and she started, “You’re –”

But she didn’t finish because at that moment they heard a loud crash coming from the study.

Belle’s heart dropped to her feet then those feet, frozen for a split second, ran toward the study.

Cassandra was at her heels.

When Belle hit the room, Jack was facing down Olive who looked pale.

Jack, on the other hand, looked furious.

No, Belle thought, shrinking back so much she bumped into Cassandra, he looked murderous.

And he was talking.

Or, more to the point, thundering.

“… fucking report!”

“I put it on your desk weeks ago,” Olive replied.

Jack lifted a newspaper and threw it on his desk with such force it slid across, taking everything with it in its path.

“With that?” Jack roared.

“With that, yes, Jack,” Olive sounded shocked and upset and maybe a little scared.

Belle was more than a little scared at Jack’s fury, the intensity of which she would have never imagined he was capable.

And this made Belle want to run.

Unfortunately Cassandra was the strong sort of woman and she probably never ran from anything.

Therefore she called attention to their presence in the room by asking, “What’s up?”

Jack turned to them, his eyes zeroed in on Belle and they narrowed ominously.

Thoughts of running a fleeting memory, Belle froze in terror under his heated stare.

“You were married?” he asked. He was no longer roaring, his voice was low, menacing, showing his fury in a vastly more terrifying way.

His question made every cell in Belle’s body petrify.

“What’s going on?” Joy entered the room.

Jack ignored his mother and demanded, “Belle, I asked you a question.”

With great effort, she cleared her throat but even doing so, her voice was breathy when she replied, “Yes.”

She barely finished the sibilant ending of her word when Jack clipped, his tone no less infuriated, “He beat you.”

Joy gasped and Cassandra made a strangled noise.

He’d found out.

Oh God, he’d found out!

Belle couldn’t answer, she just nodded.

“For years, he beat you?” Jack pushed, his eyes spearing Belle, his words feeding his own rage.

“How…” Belle’s voice hitched but she persevered, “How did you find out?”

“Well you sure as hell didn’t tell me, poppet,” he bit out.

“Jack!” Joy snapped.

Jack ignored his mother again and answered Belle, “The papers. Front page. With photos. Would you like to see?”

The newspapers. Of course, the stupid, stupid newspapers.

“N… no,” Belle stammered, her eyes glued to Jack.

“No, I suggest you don’t,” Jack agreed immediately.

“Maybe you should calm down, mate,” Cassandra advised softly but firmly.

Jack ignored her too, his eyes searing into Belle. She felt their heat like laser beams and he repeated, “He beat you?”

“Jack –” Belle whispered.

“He raised his hand to you?” Jack didn’t let it go.

“Jack, darling, don’t –” Joy tried to soothe, moving forward.

Jack only had eyes for Belle, his questions stopped and this time he made a statement. “He hurt you.”

Belle just stood frozen to the spot and stared at him.

“Again and again.” Jack’s voice was cutting and she knew it. She knew. If he found out he’d think she was weak and he’d judge her for it and she’d been right. “Come here, Belle,” Jack suddenly ground out and when Belle stood unmoving, Jack shouted, “Come fucking here!”

“Jack, darling, calm down,” Joy demanded, stepping in front of Belle.

“Get out of her way, Mum,” Jack ordered but Joy shook her head and Jack threatened, “I won’t ask again.”

“What’s happening?” Rachel whispered as she walked in the room.

“Take Belle out of here,” Cassandra said urgently.

“Belle, get over here!” Jack commanded, his voice close to being back to a roar.

“What’s on earth is happening?” Rachel whispered, this time fear threading her voice.

Cassandra moved behind Joy, shielding Belle, repeating, “Rachel, get her out of here.”

Something about Cassandra’s words caused something in Belle’s brain to fire and finally the demand from her brain reached her feet, she turned and she ran.

She got ten feet down the hall before she was caught at the waist by a strong arm and then she was going back.

Fear sounded in a muffled way deep in her throat as Jack backed her against the wall and caged her with his body.

She winced and braced, waiting for it to happen, the blows, the slaps, the punches, the pain.

But instead, his hands came to her head, sliding down her hair to her neck, over hers shoulders, down her back and he pulled her to his hard body, his arms wrapping around her tight.

“He hurt you.” Jack’s voice was no longer angry.

There wasn’t a shred of fury in it.

Instead, it was tortured.

Slowly, Belle’s head tilted back and she looked at his face.

It was ravaged.

“Again and again,” Jack’s voice throbbed.

Her heart clutched.

“Jack –” she whispered.

“Again and again.”

“Jack, stop it.”

His hands retraced their path up her back, her shoulders, her neck to frame her face.

“Again and again,” he whispered.

Tears filled her eyes and spilled over. “Please, stop it.”

“I’ll kill him.”

“Jack, stop.”

“I’ll fucking kill him.”

“Jack, please.”

Jack’s neck bent, his forehead touched hers and Belle watched his eyes close as he murmured, “He hurt you.”

“It’s over,” she whispered.

His eyes opened but he didn’t lift his head even as both his thumbs slid along the wetness at her cheekbones.

“Your Dad thought I hurt you,” he said softly.

“He didn’t mean anything by it,” Belle assured him quietly. “They’re protective of me now.”

His head moved a scant inch away. “Why didn’t you tell me, poppet?”

She swallowed and admitted, “I didn’t want you to think badly of me.”

He shook his head and a humourless smile touched his mouth before he said, “You should have told me.”

“I’m sorry,” she said in a barely there voice then, frightened out of her mind but needing to know more than needing to give into her fear, she asked, “Are you angry with me?”

Jack didn’t answer.

His hands left her face and his arms closed around her so tight she lost her breath.

“Does that,” she wheezed over his shoulder, “mean you’re not angry?”

His mouth at her ear, he replied, “Yes, it fucking well does.”

Her body relaxed into his and her arms slid around his waist.

“You seemed pretty angry when you were in the study,” she reminded him.

His nose nudged her ear before he whispered, “You’ll have to forgive me, poppet, I just found out the woman I love had been married before not to mention beaten viciously by her first husband. I was a little out of sorts.”

Belle’s tears stopped as did her breathing.

Jack said, “The woman I love”.

The woman he loved.

She was the woman he loved.

“You love me?” she breathed.

His head came up and his beautiful green eyes captured hers.

And he didn’t have to answer.

Because she saw it, stark, right there in his beautiful green eyes.

For a second.

Then he pulled away from the wall, grabbed her hand and started stalking down the hall, dragging her behind him.

He looked over his shoulder and ordered, “Call Dirk. Tell him Belle isn’t coming in today.” Belle looked over her shoulder too as she ran to keep up with his ground eating strides and she saw her mother, Olive, Joy, Rachel and Cassandra all gazing after them. Joy and Rachel were crying. Olive and Cassandra were smiling.

Jack continued, “Olive, you’re on your own for the next few hours.”

Then they were at the stairs, climbing up and before Belle could wrap her mind around what was happening, he had her in their room.

“Jack –” she started but he stalked to the bed, turned, sat, pulled her right along with him and laid back.

She fell on top of him, he rolled, pinning to her to the bed.

She blinked up at him.

“All right, Belle, starting with your first living memory, I want it,” Jack demanded.

Belle blinked again then asked tentatively, “Want what?”

“All of it.”

She blinked yet again and then asked incredulously, “Are you… um, are you talking about my life’s history?”

“Every minute you can remember.”

Belle put her hand to his neck in an effort to check his temperature and not appear like she was checking his temperature (just in case he was, say, delirious) and breathed, “Seriously?”

“Every minute.”

“That’s going to take a while,” she whispered. “I have a pretty good memory.”

“We’ll call up for lunch.”

“But –”

“And dinner.”

“Jack –”

His hand came to her face and his thumb slid across her cheekbone.

“Belle, talk.”

“Most of it’s boring,” she warned him.

“Belle –” Jack warned back.

She snapped her mouth shut.

Then she said, “Okay.”

Then she told her life story to criminally handsome James Bennett.

The man she loved.

The man who loved her back.

Jack

Jack stood in the bay window of his study, Baron and Gretl lying at his feet, his eyes trained to the view.

It was night, late, the sky midnight blue with fluffy dark grey clouds breaking the ink, the sky seamless with the dark of the sea, the muted white caps of intermittent waves fracturing the pervasive shadowy hue.

It was extraordinary, calming, beautiful in its vast simplicity and, until just over five months ago, Jack had never really noticed it in his life.

He allowed it to move through him, lightening the tightness in his chest, the heavy feeling in his gut.

But it didn’t halt the thoughts assailing his brain.

Joshua Bennett, James Bennett.

Brenna Addison, Belle Abbot.

Caleb Caldwell and Calvin fucking Cole.

Belle had been married. Married to a man that hurt her.

Again and again.

Just like Brenna.

He already understood the coincidences that bound him to Joshua and Brenna to Belle were more than coincidental. He’d heard Lewis’s disembodied voice. He understood the impossible was happening.

Now he knew it deep in his soul.

And this meant Belle was not safe.

Brenna had been tossed over a cliff.

This was not going to happen to his Belle.

I love you, Jack Bennett.

The words Belle whispered to him twenty minutes ago after he’d made love to her, while he still held her in his arms, she held him back and just before she’d drifted off to sleep sifted through his head.

And as they did, they settled into his heart.

No, Jack thought, his jaw tightening, not one thing was going to happen to his Belle.

He heard the door open behind him but he didn’t turn.

He still didn’t turn when he heard Olive’s voice.

“You called?”

The view stopped working, his chest got tight and that heavy weight settled in his gut.

“I want you to find someone to find Calvin Cole,” Jack told the window. “And when he’s found, I want him dealt with.”

“Are you going to be specific about how you want him dealt with?” Olive asked.

Yes, he most certainly was.

“When it’s done, he’ll have absolutely no desire whatsoever to see Belle again.”

“And do you have a limit as to how much you’re willing to invest in this project?”

Jack’s torso twisted so his eyes could fall on the shadow of Olive standing several feet in from the open door. As he did this, he heard dog tags jangling as Baron and Gretl’s heads came up but they otherwise didn’t move.

“As pertains to who you hire, your budget is unrestricted. But Calvin Cole will be convinced he has no desire, ever again, to see Belle and he’ll be convinced of this without money changing hands.”

There was a hesitation before, with a smile in her voice, Olive murmured, “I’ll see to it.”

She began to move to exit the room when Jack called, “I’m not done,” and she stopped.

Jack took in a breath.

Then he ordered, “I want Mickey Dempsey brought to me.”

There was another hesitation before, with uncertainty in her voice, Olive asked, “Jack, are you certain that’s wise? He’s a member of the media. You’re used to it but Belle’s plagued by it. She doesn’t need any more attention. And if you anger this man, he might see she gets it.”

“He had an agenda with that article and it wasn’t to harm Belle. It was to expose Cole.”

“I noticed that but I don’t understand why you –”

Jack turned fully to her while cutting her off, “He’s an investigative journalist. He uncovered something that the rest of the media, even after a year of her being under scrutiny, didn’t find. He has skills. As I’ve explained it to you, you’re aware that we’re currently involved in an unusual situation where we have very little knowledge of what’s going on considering what precipitated it happened over two hundred years ago. The story is old, the trail is cold and his skills might prove useful.”

“I see,” Olive muttered.

“Bring him to me,” Jack ordered.

“Consider it done.”

He always did after he gave Olive a directive.

Without another word, Olive left.

Jack turned back to the view and listened as his dogs again settled.

He studied it until it brought him peace.

Then he turned from the window, strode through his house with his dogs at his heels and he went to his and Belle’s bedroom.

He disrobed and pulled on some pyjama bottoms as he heard Baron and Gretl settle on Belle’s side of the bed.

Then he slid in beside his sleeping Belle, curled into her warm body and the peace he’d garnered from the view settled deep.

I love you, Jack Bennett.

Curled into Belle, Jack fell asleep.