"Anything."
"Do you ever get lonely? Living here by yourself, working from home, barely leaving the property?"
The question catches me off guard. "Sometimes," I admit. "But it's better than the alternative. Better than being in the city, surrounded by people who want something from me. Better than—" I stop.
"Better than watching me marry Nathan," she finishes quietly.
I should deny it. Should brush it off, maintain some semblance of appropriate distance.
"Yes," I say instead. "Better than that."
Belle's eyes go wide, her lips parting slightly, and I watch her process what I've just confessed.
"Richard..." she starts, but I interrupt.
"I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. That's not… You don't need to hear about my—"
"I'm glad you left," she says, her voice stronger now. "I'm glad you weren't there. I don't think I could have done it if you were watching. If I'd had to look at you while promising to be Nathan's wife."
My heart is pounding so hard I'm sure she can hear it over the gentle sound of the waterfall. "Why?"
She takes another step closer, and now she's within arm's reach. Close enough that I can see the water droplets on her eyelashes, the way her lips are slightly parted, the rapid pulse in her throat.
Close enough that if I reached out, I could touch her.
"Because," she says softly, "looking at you has always made me wish things were different. Made me imagine a world where you met me first."
"Belle—"
"I know it's wrong. I know you're his father, that you're older, that this whole situation is completely inappropriate." She's trembling slightly, but her gaze is steady. "But I can't stop thinking about you. I haven't been able to stop for two years."
Every rational thought in my head is screaming at me to step back, to maintain boundaries, to be the responsible adult. But my body has other ideas, and when she moves even closer, close enough that her breasts almost brush my chest, I'm lost.
"Can I ask you something?" Her voice is barely above a whisper now.
"Anything."
"In the gym earlier... were you looking at me the same way I was looking at you?"
I should lie. Should protect both of us from this conversation, from admitting anything that could complicate an already complicated situation.
"You weren't imagining it," I hear myself say.
"So, you... you think I'm attractive?"
"Belle." I close my eyes briefly, trying to find words that aren't a complete confession. "You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen. You have to know that."
"Nathan said—"
"Nathan is a liar and an abuser who tried to destroy your self-worth so you'd be easier to control." The words come out harsh, angry. "Nothing he told you about yourself has any basis in reality."
"But I'm not… I mean, I'm not thin or—"
"You're perfect exactly as you are." I can't stop myself from reaching out now, from cupping her face with one hand. Her skin is wet and warm from the heated pool.
Belle's eyes go wide, her lips parting on a soft gasp. "Richard..."
"I shouldn't be saying this." My thumb strokes across her cheekbone of its own accord. "You came here for protection, not to deal with my inappropriate attraction. I'm sorry. I'll stop—"
