Moriarty's Musician

Masquerade, Part 2

Two Days Earlier...

Annabelle finished her shower, dried herself off and dressed in the same clothes she had arrived in. Searching the box Nicholas had given her, she found a small, black comb. She sat on the edge of the tub and tried to pull the comb through the snags and tats of her long, damp hair. Sighing in frustration, she threw the comb at the washroom door and buried her head in her hands. What was she going to do?

"Annie, dinner's ready," Nicholas called from the kitchen. "I hope you look beautiful."

Annabelle glanced at the closed door, wishing the ground would open up and swallow her. With a long sigh, she pulled herself to her feet and gazed into the mirror.

She looked a sight. Not even a hot shower could soothe the anxiety etched into her face. She cringed, remembering his disgusting mouth on hers. How could she keep up this performance when she couldn't stand the thought of him touching her? And she knew he wanted to touch her.

Annabelle ran her fingers through her hair, trying to finger comb through the tangles until a knock on the bathroom door.

"Annie, come out or I'm coming in after you."

She could hear him chuckling on the other side like it was some sort of sick game. She grabbed her head in her hands.

The locked doorknob jiggled. Annabelle took a deep breath and slowly opened the door.

Nicholas's eyes held hers as a corner of his mouth lifted in a smile. He reached for a damp lock of hair laying over her shoulder and rubbed it between his fingers.

"How was your shower? Feeling better?"

Annabelle couldn't speak. She didn't trust herself at that moment not to ruin her plans to escape him.

Nicholas smiled as he brought her hair to his nose and inhaled. "Mmm, you smell delicious."

Annabelle gritted her teeth. She pulled her hair from his hand and twisted her damp mane so it was gathered tightly over one shoulder. She wanted to slap him. She stared at him stone-faced.

Nicholas chuckled again as he studied her. "You must be starving. Come on. I've made you dinner."

He reached down and took her hand. Annabelle grudgingly let him bring her to the dining table just off the kitchen. A candlestick sat on top of a red tablecloth along with two fancy plates and cutlery sets.

Nicholas pulled out her chair and waved his hand at it with a smile. Annabelle slowly took the seat and stared down at the elegant table setting. He gave her chair a nudge so she was tucked in under the table, but he remained standing behind her.

He gazed down at Annabelle's bent head, his eyes flickering with desire as they rested on her creamy neck. Leaning down, he touched his lips to her skin.

Annabelle practically jumped out of her seat. She turned furious eyes on him as she shook with anger. "I won't go through with this courtship if you continue to touch me!"

"This is what you do when you're courting, Annabelle. You take spontaneous times to touch each other," he growled. His eyes darkened at the look of distaste on her face.

It was at that very moment, Annabelle remembered Moriarty and the way he had kissed her the night they cleaned the dishes together. She knew she would have willingly continued had Sebastian not interrupted. Her eyes dropped from Nicholas to look at her hands. How could she carry on with this masquerade?

"Look at me, Annabelle."

Her eyes remained downcast as she clenched her hands.