The BBW and the Beast: A Shifter Retelling of Beauty and the Beast (A BBW Shifter Fairy Tale Retelling Book 1) by Sylvia Frost Read Free Book Online

ask her to call him by his first name since she knew it now. He understood now what an idiot he had been for keeping the barrier up in the first place.
    “And I won’t make you clean,” he said.
    An idea flashed through his mind, perhaps the only not-immensely stupid one he had had in her presence. Gently, he grabbed the handle and opened the door completely until it lay flush against the bedroom wall.
    “Let me show you something.”
    Bel took a step toward the doorway, but then sidestepped to grab the handle. “What?”
    Samson made sure to give her plenty of distance. “Just something you might have expertise in, because of your writing.”
    He couldn’t help but smile as her eyes glimmered with curiosity and her hand fell away from the doorknob. Yes, he was trying to be better, but his wolf was still a hunter at heart. And it growled playfully as it realized it had ensnared its prey.
    She smiled nervously at him, and it didn’t quite reach her eyes. “I only have a couple of minutes. I’ve got to call a cab to pick me up.”
    Samson answered her tentative smile with one of his own, which softened his whole face and made his body feel light and twenty again. “Of course,” he said, his old confidence returning.
    A couple of minutes? He could have her laughing and promising to stay with him forever in thirty seconds.

8
    I t was one of the house’s strange miracles that even after living in it for almost a week – the snows hadn’t let up – there were still hallways Bel had never set foot in. She and Samson were walking down one of them now in awkward silence. The only noise was the floorboards creaking.
    Bel made sure there was always at least a foot of distance between them while trying not to lose him in the dim, narrow corridor. All it would take would be another one of those flood-my-panties French kisses, and she would stay in his mansion forever. Her body craved another taste of woodsy, chop-down-a-tree-and-throw-you-over-his-shoulder-to-ravish-you Samson.
    This situation couldn’t be healthy.
    “Isabella.”
    “Hmm?” Bel looked up just in time to swerve and avoid colliding with Samson. Instead, she ran into a wall. Her hands flew out and kept her from breaking her nose. Cynthia sometimes insisted that the real reason Bel always ran into things wasn’t because she couldn’t see them, but because she was too busy imagining the world as she wished it to be, to pay attention to how it was. Bel has a signed note from her eye doctor disagreeing.
    “We’re here.” Samson opened a small door to the right and ducked through it.
    Bel followed instinctively, expecting nothing of consequence. What she found was quite different.
    Knick-knacks of every kind and from every possible era lined shelf after shelf. Books were the most numerous, followed by the most stunning wood carvings Bel had ever seen, although there were plenty of other doo-dads. Animal skins covered the floor like wall-to-wall carpeting, and figurines loomed from above like miniature gargoyles. As a vegetarian, Bel was mildly horrified. As an author, she was completely enthralled.
    There were so many different types of things, it took Bel a moment to find the common trait they all held. But the moment she did, she couldn’t imagine how she had missed the connection in the first place.
    “Werebeasts,” she said. “You’re interested in werebeasts.”
    She knew her first reaction should’ve been excitement that someone else shared her passion for long-dead myths. Instead, her discovery made her feel uneasy, like there was something important she was forgetting. Or trying not to remember.
    He strolled casually over to a shelf and plucked out a book that was next to a wooden stake used in the pre-industrial era, before the silver bullet had been invented. As he got close enough that even Bel’s poor vision could make out the title, she groaned.
    The dark cover showed a giant moon framing the heavily shadowed face of a sultry-looking