Beauty's Cursed Sleep Read online

  Rory set about her morning taking her time with the little things – indulging in an extra long shower, forgoing the need for coffee as she let her body wake up on its own, and doing yoga as she let her hair air-dry in the living room. She hadn’t had the time to read for fun in ages, and had packed a few books from the family’s study that she cracked open with gusto. She knew there was much to see to with her foundation, but she’d hired an assistant for this very reason. Francesca was supposed to be taking things off her plate so she could have the occasional day off. She’d left Francesca a to-do list, but wasn’t sure the woman was capable of staying on top of everything just yet. The night before she’d ditched and ran, she’d left her uncle Remus a list, as well. Though she knew he would understand her need for respite, she regretted not telling him about her escape to his face.

  Rory read four chapters of a historical romance novel before the lure of work proved too strong to resist. She opened her backpack and spread out the folders and files that most needed her attention. She knew there was no internet out in the cabin, and loved it for that luxury, but there was still work to be done. She ignored the many texts and phone calls when she powered up her cell, calling only Remus to assure him she was alright.

  “You should’ve told me you needed a break,” he scolded her.

  “I’m not sure either of us would’ve heard me. I’ll be back in a week. I’m still working on drafting up the proposal for the new playground. Francesca should be able to handle most of the things on my daily checklist.”

  “I want you to listen to the words you just said. There’s no way Francesca can handle your job – yet or ever.”

  “Well, in four months, I’ll be gone for good. Best she gets the hang of things now.”

  Rory hadn’t meant to bring the phone call to a crashing halt, but the silence rang of discomfort all the same. “We’ll find a way to wake you up,” Remus promised, not for the first time.

  “Mm-hm. Could you do me a favor and let my parents and Benjamin know I’m fine? Mom and Dad seemed alright with it after I reasoned with them last night, but I couldn’t talk Benjamin down.”

  “Sure, give me the impossible job. Your father’s right here, by the way. Whatever version of ‘alright’ you think your parents are right now, they’re not.”

  Rory softened at the sound of her father’s voice as he took the phone from his younger brother. “I knew you’d call Remus first. Are you okay, sweetheart?”

  “I’m perfectly fine. Just taking a little vacation. I’m twenty-four, and I’ve never had a trip by myself. Thought it was about time.”

  She could tell her father wanted to argue, but couldn’t very well force his grown daughter to march herself on home. “Okay, Rory. If you say you need this, then I can respect that. I wish you’d taken Benjamin. The man’s driving himself insane going to all your usual haunts.”

  “Tell Benjamin I love him, and to put his feet up and enjoy the week off.”

  Her father’s tone came back dubious. “I feel as if we’re talking about two different people. This is Benjamin. A week off to him would be torture.”

  “I love you, Dad. I’m turning my phone off now.”

  True to her word, Rory powered down her phone and smiled at the rebellion. Though most women her age didn’t have such restrictions, those women didn’t have a whole country to consider.

  It wasn’t long before she was elbow-deep in proposals and papers, sifting through contracts and making notes as to who needed to be contacted when she returned.

  So deep in thought was she that when a knock sounded at the front door, she nearly jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t made a plan for what to do if someone knocked. She didn’t know if she should answer, or if pretending no one was home would be more prudent. She settled for peeking through the curtain, a smile lighting her features when she saw who it was.

  “Cordray?” She flung open the door, a smile beaming off her face. “It’s good to see you.”

  He was holding a toolbox and looked as if he’d had something prepared to say, but it escaped him at the sight of her. “I just came by to… And I thought…” A wide grin broke out across his face at his stammering. “Good morning, Story. Just came by to see if you needed help with the window.”

  “That’s nice of you. Come on in.” Her heartrate picked up as she ushered him inside and locked the door behind them.

  He eyed the table as they walked past the dining room toward the kitchen. “What’s all that?”

  “Oh, just work. It’s hard to step away.”

  He quirked his eyebrow at her. “I don’t think you understand vacation.”

  Rory’s mouth drew to the side as it dawned on her that he might have a point. “Well, I can’t actually ditch on my responsibilities.”

  “You can’t take a vacation?” He set his toolbox down by the backdoor and came to stand next to her, eyeing the stacks of paperwork. “You run the Johnstone Foundation, right?”

  Rory nodded. “Yes. I love the work, but there are a lot of moving parts.”

  “What are you going to do when…” His eyes cut to her, and then tore away with a flinch. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to talk about that.”

  Rory was well-practiced in the art of talking about her impending pause, which might as well be permanent at this point. She swallowed involuntarily, as she always did when she compartmentalized the thing that would scare her into a therapist’s office if she let it. She touched her thumb to each of her fingers, making sure to keep her tone light. “I have an assistant who’s supposed to help Uncle Remus after I fall into my sleep. She’s new, though, and it’s a lot of responsibility to hand over.”

  “How new?”

  Rory grimaced. “Two years.”

  Cordray paused, giving Rory time to consider what she’d just said.

  Her hand rubbed out a wrinkle of worry that etched itself into her forehead. “Maybe Francesca’s not so new. I just know that she can’t handle everything yet.”

  “When will she be able to?”

  Rory stiffened, her chin jerking up with a note of defiance. “I built this foundation from the ground up. If there was something I needed help with, I would ask.”

  Cordray tilted his chin in her direction, crossing his arms over his thick chest. He didn’t speak, but again let her words sink in so she could digest them and examine their falsity.

  Rory’s boldness faded, and her shoulders fell. “Okay, maybe that’s not entirely true. Maybe Uncle Remus made me get an assistant because I was supposed to start handing things over. But the idea of giving up on my life’s work kills me.” Her voice quieted, but was no less stubborn. “It’s not my time to die yet.”

  “Is that what you think you’re doing by delegating? Are you giving up? Or are you doing what’s best for the Johnstone Foundation, even when it cuts into your pride?”

  Rory stammered as she took a step back, wanting to find some grounds to refute his logic. “You can’t just… You don’t know how…” When the right words didn’t come to her, she leveled her finger in his face and argued, “You don’t get to know me this well!”

  The two froze, perplexed at her words, until they both started to chuckle slowly at the strangeness.

  Cordray held up his hands. “I admit, I don’t know much about you at all. I could be entirely wrong. Who knows?” He motioned to the cluttered table. “Maybe it’s me who’s been doing vacations all wrong my whole life. This workload looks totally relaxing.”

  Leaning against the table, Rory’s fist balanced on her hip. “Alright, smart guy. Educate me. How do people take vacations?”

  “Boy, are you going to be sorry you asked me that.”

  A slow smile that started at his core climbed throughout his body and lit his features in ways that made Rory want to say something clever to keep that look on his face at all times. His eyes were captivating, holding nothing back from her. His lips had a suppleness to the sculpted look of them. Rory saw herself closing the gap between t
hem just so she could taste his lower lip. In her mind’s eye, she saw her lashes flutter, and envisioned his arm around her hips, relishing her one moment of daring.

  She took a step back, shaking her head to clear it of the lusty fog she was unaccustomed to. It was then she realized that Cordray had his hand outstretched to her in invitation, and she was shaking her head and moving away.

  Still, he kept the gloved invitation extended, a look of tender pleading in his eyes. She couldn’t tell if he was pleading on her behalf – wanting to really help her indulge in a life of relaxation, or if he was asking more for himself – wanting to run away with her.

  “What do you say, Story?”

  It was the sound of his low baritone that drew her in, pushing her hesitations to the side so she could finally place her hand in his. The connection that zinged through her body sent a thrill into her heart, lifting her to stand on the balls of her feet.

  With excitement that pushed both of them into giddy grins of scandal, Cordray pulled her out the back door, their feet quickening as they ran out into the beauty and possibility of the woods.

  6

  Running Through the Woods

  “Where are we going?”

  “Away!”

  Rory’s eyes were wide as she ran alongside him, giggling as they skipped over roots and darted around trees, still attached at the hand and unwilling to let go of each other. Rory thrilled at holding the hand of a man. For something so simple, it was an intimate act for a woman whose life was usually so very guarded.

  For Cordray, touch in general was a thing to celebrate. The moment his admission of having a Lethal Pulse came out in conversation, people visibly backed away from him. Though they could have dropped their grip on each other minutes ago, both of them clung tighter, savoring the scandal that was precious to them both.

  They ran through the woods, brushing off their burdens in the branches. So much of Rory’s life had been spent serving the people and helping the throne. The greens and the browns were lush with the freedom of nature permitting them to run wild, even if mankind never would allow such scandals.

  As they moved deeper into the woods, Rory was amazed at how lavishly the forest liked to show off. The trees grew ever taller the further in they went. Summer was just beginning, introducing flowers to the world that not many would have the good fortune to see, but there they bloomed in beautiful bursts of fragrant blues and pinks. The scent of lilacs permeated her nose with a perfume that felt almost spiritual as it filled her lungs to nearly bursting.

  It wasn’t until they approached a stream that their sprint slowed into a breathy stroll. “I haven’t run that long in ages!” She rested her free hand to her chest to quell the rapid jumps. She expected him to release her hand; she knew she was clinging perhaps a little too much. But Cordray never dropped her grip, instead using the tether to draw her closer, so their hips occasionally bumped as they hiked along the trickling brook.

  “I love this stretch of the woods. The stream goes all the way down there, and the view is amazing. I think your vacation should start off with a nature hike, not loads of paperwork.”

  “You’re the boss.”

  “Actually, you’re the boss. I know I was probably being a little too flippant back there. I know you’ve got an important job, and you do a lot of amazing things with the work your Foundation does.” He shrugged, letting their hands swing between them as they walked along the brook. “There was just something about seeing the hope in your eyes yesterday when you were talking about your big moment of freedom, and then seeing you today chaining yourself when there was finally no one to tether you to a desk. It made me sad.” He motioned around the woods. “This is what it looks like when I snap.”

  Rory’s smile felt so permanent at this point; she wondered when the last time was that she’d been so enthralled. “When I snap, it involves working until the candle goes out, and falling asleep at my desk.”

  “You work by candlelight?”

  “After nine, yes. Benjamin, my guard, lights a candle that burns for about three hours. The rule is that I can work until the candle goes out, and then I have to turn in.”

  “That’s oddly sweet.”

  “Well, that’s Benjamin for you. It was Remus’ idea, actually. He got tired of me drinking espresso all day at the office. Apparently I can be something of a dictator when most of my diet consists of caffeine.”

  When they came to a particularly muddy patch, Cordray steered them around it and pointed to the animal tracks. “See that? It’s a deer heading south. We’ll probably start to see a lot more tracks like that the further in we get.”

  “Are you a hunter?”

  Cordray chuckled. “I’m a vegetarian. Growing up as a Lethal gave me a bent for not killing things.”

  Rory mulled over his response as they walked through the dewy grass.

  “Was that too much melodrama?” he asked, casting her a sidelong glance.

  Rory squeezed his fingers twice. “Just the right amount. It’s not a chore to learn about you, Cord.”

  His feet slowed until finally they stopped in front of a felled tree. Instead of hefting one of his legs over the thick trunk, he stared at it, as if perplexed. “No one’s ever said that to me. They find out I’m Lethal, and that’s all they need to know.”

  Rory didn’t mean to brush the outside of her arm against his, but her body did what it craved without needing to be commanded to move nearer to the man who made her wonder. Instead of speaking, she reached across her body and ran her fingers slowly up and down his forearm, giving them both a steady dose of the shivers.

  The mild pop and swish of the water hitting the felled tree drew her eyes, and something about the sight gave her a deep-rooted peace she hadn’t been able to access in her office. The air was cleaner out here, the atmosphere still, yet cracking with life. She could feel the chaos that usually banged around inside of her die down under the gentle command of the brook.

  Then suddenly, Cordray was several feet away from her, backing up in alarm as if she was the danger, and he, the hunted. “I don’t know what this is. I’m not… Why would someone like you be touching me like that? Is this some ‘stick it to the parents’ thing? Because I’ve got news for you; I’ve been that guy before, and I’m not up for it again. Especially not on your family’s level. I’ve got a feeling the Chancellor of Avondale has plenty of obscure places he could use to make me disappear.”

  Rory took in his worry, and then looked down at her hands, turning them over to examine what made them think they could go off perusing the body of a man she barely knew. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have been so clingy. It’s got nothing to do with ‘sticking it to my parents’. I forgot myself for a moment. It won’t happen again.”

  Her words sunk deep in her stomach. For the span of half an hour, she’d completely forgotten about all of her hang-ups. She’d forgotten about work. She’d even forgotten about her curse. So much of her life had been molded around the worst day of her existence. To live without that weight, even for less than an hour, made her giddy with bravery that went beyond reason. She was finally breaking out of her shell and routine enough to realize her life wasn’t over yet. She had choices, and she’d never used that liberty to its full capacity.

  Her shoulders weighted with a flood of shame, her hands clasping in front as they often did when she was under public scrutiny. She wanted to fidget, but knew that would be eaten up by the press as a weakness. She glanced around the forest that had felt so incredibly alive with freedom mere seconds ago. She scolded herself for believing she belonged there, instead of at her desk, doing what she could to save Avondale, while knowing that it couldn’t save her.

  Cordray’s mistrust was evident in his shifting gaze, but upon taking in her obvious embarrassment, he quickly diverted to compassion. “Hey, I was wrong. I’m the one who should be sorry. I’m not used to nice moments like this that don’t have layers and layers of manipulation behind them. This is all me, not y
ou.”

  Rory lowered her chin and plastered a bland, pleasant expression on her face. She’d worn it on several occasions, and kept it tucked in her back pocket to cover her true face whenever it threatened to come out and expose her pangs of vulnerability. “I should get back. I’ve ignored my work for far too long. Thank you for the tour.”

  He recoiled, causing her to stop her exit short. “What is that face?”

  Rory flinched. “What?”

  “I mean, I’ve seen you in the papers, and I guess that’s how you look, but to see it up close? You were just laughing and smiling, and now you’re… I don’t know what that is, but it’s not you.”

  “Am I being rude?”

  “No.”

  “I had a lovely walk through the woods, but I let my imagination run away with me. I’m sure my investors wouldn’t approve of the childish fantasies I wasted time on when I could have been doing something meaningful.”

  “What do you know about wasting time? It seems like you’ve got every second planned out.”

  A fire flared up in Rory, and for once, she didn’t stamp it out with a controlled downward tilt of her head. “Every second that I waste is one I’ll never get back. You’ve got an entire lifetime of seconds – whole minutes and hours and days where you can hide in the woods and trust that the world will find a way to fix itself. I’ve never had that luxury. I have four months left to solve an entire country’s worth of problems. I don’t know why I thought it would be a good idea to traipse around the woods like… like…”

  “Like what?” Cordray challenged, fanning the flames in her words to keep her true self at the surface as long as possible.

  “Like I have a choice in my life!”

  “What you have isn’t a life!” he countered, his volume climbing. “What you have is a pit that will never fill up, no matter how much dirt you shovel in. You have four months left? Then maybe it’s time you started living!”