Hey, everyone! Sorry I'm a little late. I've been waiting for this day since January 3rd of LAST year! Y'all need to head over and check out all of the entries in the
No Kiss Blogfest, hosted annually by Frankie. It's something you don't want to miss! :)
Here's mine...a scene from a little story about revenge and what can happen when some
one goes terribly wrong...very rough, but I'm excited about it!
Ella checked the towering grandfather clock for what seemed
like the twenty-seven hundredth time that evening, realizing she had only an
hour left to sneak away from the ball without anyone noticing.
Of course,
that was proving impossible considering her Cinderella-like entrance. Brent hadn’t taken his eyes off of her once,
even while dancing with the most beautiful women in attendance.
The urge to
stay in the ballroom and pretend this magical life was hers to enjoy forever
was too tempting, and Ella took a deep breath before sidestepping out the
double doors. She hoped no one saw her
leave, especially Brent. She had a
feeling he would make this difficult for her.
The main
study was down the first hall on her right, and she half-jogged, half-glided,
kicking off her heels as she went. They
were too much of a hindrance and way too loud.
Glancing over
her shoulder, Ella leaned into the heavy door, twisted the knob, and
disappeared into the silent blackness.
The room was
chilled, lack of life evident. When she
was a child, she spent plenty of free time flipping through the pages of her
father’s thick novels while he pored over business paperwork. Now the only movement she ever witnessed in
here happened when she came in to clean the nonexistent dirt. And, of course, when her stepmother
interviewed her.
Ella swept
across the room, holding her dress up off the floor to avoid tripping. The bookcases appeared exactly the same as
before, nothing more, nothing less. She
ducked down behind the desk and tried the center drawer.
Locked.
Three
drawers, two shallow and one deep file drawer, were on the right. She tried each one, failing at opening any of
them.
“Damn,” she
swore, smacking an open palm against the glossy top. She should have thought this through. Of course the things to be hidden would be
secure from outside tampering.
“Cinderella
only left behind one slipper, you know.”
Ella spun
around, her dress catching on the rolling desk chair and tearing with a
horrible ripping sound.
Brent stood
in the doorway, leaning against the frame, her heels dangling from an index
finger. Ella couldn’t see his face in
the dark, but she could imagine the fire shooting through his eyes, a stranger
rummaging through his home like a regular klepto.
“I was
looking for…the bathroom,” Ella improvised.
“Behind the
desk?” He wasn’t convinced, and stepped
into the room, tossing the shoes onto an armchair. He moved slowly, arms crossed over his chest.
His features
came into focus, but they weren’t angry as she expected. Rather, they gave away
nothing but intrigue, a small smile turning up the sides of his mouth.
“Tissue,”
Ella said, yanking one from the box on the corner of the desk. She was never more thankful for her
stepmother’s idea of a masque to disguise eligible women from her son. If he had any idea who she was, it was her
neck. All of her hard work would have
been in vain.
“Ah. I see.”
It was obvious he didn’t believe her, but Brent said nothing to suggest
it. He just kept moving closer, now
hooking his thumbs in his pockets.
Ella stepped
backwards, panic making flight impossible.
“I didn’t mean to make you suspicious.”
She hit the corner of the room, a few books toppling on the shelves
behind her. She ignored them, oblivious
to everything but the close proximity between her and the man who could ruin
her.
“I know you,
don’t I?”
She shook her
head, a furious move that rattled her brain and made her see stars. “No, I don’t think so.”
“Yes. I do.
I recognize your eyes.” Brent was
near enough that he could see them, although she was certain the color was
indeterminable in the lack of light.
Still, she was thankful she chose to leave her disguising brown contacts
in her bedroom. Turquoise was not the
color anyone would expect in her eyes.
“Do you know
that you’ve been the talk of the party?”
Brent grinned, his pearly whites visible, lighting up the space.
Ella
flushed. “Don’t you mean the talk of
your engagement party?” She couldn’t
help the stab. This wasn’t the same
party thrown every year. Her stepmother
had made a mockery of the event.
Brent
chuckled. “I get the feeling you’re
rather dissatisfied. I’m not what you
expected?”
What she
expected? He was nothing she’d ever
expected. She’d expected, or maybe wanted, for him to be a disgusting
excuse for a human being. He was
supposed to be snide and cruel, someone she’d enjoy humiliating.
Granted, he
was rather sarcastic, and he definitely knew how hot he was, but cruel was
something she knew he was not. And
tonight, in his dark gray suit, baby blue shirt, and white tie, his ocean eyes
were visible across the room. His shaggy
dark hair was unkempt and probably a thorn in his stepmother’s side, but it
made him that much more appealing. He
stood with confidence but made it clear he wasn’t interested in a giggling
girly girl who would feed his ego. And
he kept saying things like, ‘Right, then’, and, ‘Piss it’, when he was
angry.
She never
expected a guy like him to be so charming and sexy. It had to be the British thing.
Still, she
had no idea how to answer that question.
“I’m
waiting,” Brent said. One more step and
he would be nose to nose with her.
Ella lifted
her chin, the sequins on her silver mask catching the moonlight and
half-blinding her. “I expected no less
than what the evening delivered,” she finally answered. There.
It revealed nothing, yet sounded insulting. She was proud of herself.
But Brent’s
smile simply widened. Was he laughing at
her?
Without her
realizing it, the tips of his shoes touched the tips of her toes and he tilted
his head down, lips centimeters away.
Oh, God. Ella sucked in her breath, trying to think
quickly. If she let him kiss her, she
was done for. All of her work would be
for naught. She could never find
vengeance against his family if she fell for him. It was impossible. Not to mention rude.
Although the
idea of torturing him by allowing the kiss and then disappearing forever was
tempting…
“I make you
uncomfortable,” Brent whispered, and she could smell mint on his breath, as if
he’d just brushed his teeth. He brushed
his thumb against her cheek and she felt her knees shake.
Damn, he was
good.
“You think
very highly of yourself,” Ella retorted.
He chuckled
and leaned further in.
Kiss or no?
Do it or don’t?
“I do,” Brent
said, stepping away. “And you should
leave before I have you thrown out of my home.”
Ella stared
at him, the way his eyes hardened, his arms crossed severely, his firm
stance. The complete opposite of the man
she was falling for. And exactly the
jerk she expected him to be.
He looked
from her to the door. “Goodbye.”
Ella didn’t
wait, turning on her heel and booking out of the room and out the front doors.
