Page 44 of The Curse of Indy Moore (The Cursed Duology #1)

That shouldn’t have made me blush. His cheeks shouldn’t have taken on a tint of pink either.

“I suppose you have played boyfriend well for plenty of partners, so it comes naturally to you.”

Mr. Hawthorne beamed over the menus. “Do I detect a hint of jealousy, Miss Moore?”

My hands flexed in my lap. “Not an ounce.”

“Far more than an ounce, I would say, though I cannot blame you. There is hardly any competition for me.”

“I’m surprised you are able to imply that there is any competition at all.”

He gave a dainty bow. “Part of my appeal is my modesty.”

Laughter erupted from my chest so loudly that I failed to hide a snort behind my hand. My blush crept past my hairline as Mr. Hawthorne’s laughter joined mine. Beneath the table, I thought I felt his leg brush mine.

“Don’t hide your laugh,” he said when turning his attention to the menu. “It’s cute.”

I willed my heart to cease its dramatics to no avail. The soil had turned, and in it, new growth burst through, their blossoms full without warning. They brought with them a painful hope that no amount of logic could smother .

Clearing my throat, I cast my eyes aside to admire the treats a server brought to another table. “You don’t need to flattery me. I am not tipping you for your assistance.”

“I don’t want a tip from you, although I was honest about that dance.”

That got me to stare at him again, gawking at the serious expression he wore.

“The Moonlit Ball,” he elaborated. “We were invited, and I intend to take you. There is nothing I wish to see more than you in a dress fit for a queen and nothing I want more than to have a dance with you.”

“I fear I am no dancer.”

“Then we will make one of you.” He smiled and read off the menu. We decided on sharing a sweet lava cake drizzled with dark chocolate and caramel that tasted utterly divine.

After that, Mr. Hawthorne took us to the shopping district, where we weaved in and out of storefronts, admiring garments and jewelry and tapestries from seas away.

With the port so close, there was so much to offer.

Even I couldn’t resist window shopping, which didn’t go unnoticed.

Mr. Hawthorne had a handful of deliveries prepared within the hour for the both of us.

I ceased telling him I didn’t need anything, seeing as it encouraged him to grab more.

Eventually, I started holding up a dress I liked, which Mr. Hawthorne would then buy, and it felt…

nice. Nice to wear a beautiful dress and liking who I saw in the mirror, nice to step out of a changing room to find Mr. Hawthorne waiting to share a compliment, although a voice at the back of my mind said time and time again that he was only being kind.

Somehow, I didn’t care that much. All I cared about was that first moment when I stepped out and he was quiet, his lips parted like he was seeing me for the first time.

“You are beautiful, Miss Moore,” he’d say in the softest tone.

“You’ve said that each time,” I countered.

“Because it is true each time, and I am nothing if not an honest man.”

Although I laughed, I returned to the changing room, where his words held me in the softest caress I had ever known.

Then I would bring out the dresses to lay on the counter, where the owner prepared them for shipment.

I had no idea where they would go once this was over, or how I could possibly wear them…

more so because I’d think of this, of him…

“Do you have time to be shopping?” Carline struck like lightning, without warning. She stood in the middle of the street, passed through by the locals, and yet, felt more real than the pathway beneath my feet. “Your time is almost up,” she said, stepping closer.

Behind me, Mr. Hawthorne remained in the shop talking with the owner. I stood by the threshold, reaching for the door handle when Carline closed the gap between us. If she were here, I would be able to feel her warmth, the rage radiating from her piercing gold gaze.

“The full moon is nearly upon us, and you shall return to me, where you belong.” Carline traced my cheek with such a loving look that most would believe she truly cared. “None of this changes anything. You cannot stop the inevitable. You belong to me, Indy Moore.”

An arm looped with mine, and a hand fell beneath my chin. Mr. Hawthorne brought my attention to his. He wore a stern, concerned look.

“She’s here,” I whispered before he could ask.

“He can’t save you,” Carline said so confidently that mine wavered.

“Whatever she’s saying, don’t believe a word of it.” Mr. Hawthorne led us down the street. He kept a firm hold on me, my anchor to reality.

“You’ve been lost for so long, but I’ve found you now. We’ll be together forever. You will have a family forever,” she said, always right there behind me.

When I dared to look over my shoulder at Carline keeping pace with us, he squeezed my arm.

“Look at me,” he demanded. I did so, caught in the heat of his gaze. “Keep your eyes on me. You know I do so love attention, but most of all yours.”

I released a strangled laugh.

“She’s here because she is scared,” he said .

“I am here because you are wasting your time. You needn’t suffer any longer. Come home, and all will be well for the both of us,” Carline countered.

“This is a sign that we are on the right track. You are beating her.” Mr. Hawthorne took us down another street. We were surrounded by a world unknowing of the demon trailing us, a shadow to me alone.

“He is a cocky one, isn’t he?” Carline laughed, her voice right next to me.

I saw her out of my peripheral vision, a threatening shape.

“You have thought the same. He is playing you for a fool—all this flirting, all this talk—but what happens when the contract ends? What are you if you are no longer the project? In the end, he loses nothing from this, but you? You will lose so much more.”

My gaze drifted. Mr. Hawthorne tugged me closer. I leaned against his side, giving in to the desire of feeling him.

“Eyes on me,” he said softly. “It is just us today. I require your full attention, and you shall, as always, have every dose of mine.”

“Always is a bit of an exaggeration,” I said, hating how defeated I sounded.

“Not at all. From the moment you came to Ivory House, I have been nothing if not entranced by you, in one way or the other.”

“What a sweet talker,” Carline snapped, but nothing she said could ruin this, even with her telling me he was a liar, that my time was up, that I could ignore her all I wanted, but it wouldn’t change the truth.

I kept a firm hold on Mr. Hawthorne, a foundation too sturdy for even Carline to break, and gave my attention entirely to him. She barked her cruelties until the next shop, where she disappeared. I knew she wouldn’t be gone long, that she would come again and again in hopes of breaking me.

For the time being, I could enjoy rummaging through salts, oils, and balms with Mr. Hawthorne. One of which I recognized by smell, the foam paste he had on that morning. While he stashed a handful in a bag, I said, “Oh, you need more of your gunk.”

“Face cream,” he repeated.

I took the bag off him to smell. “Looks like gunk. Smells like gunk. Must be gunk.”

The owner spotted us and waltzed over to speak to me.

While they had my attention, Mr. Hawthorne went into the meditation room at the back to scream into a pillow.

He thought I wouldn’t notice, but these senses of mine were keen.

We left with Mr. Hawthorne’s face care products that could not be delivered, unlike the plethora of other items he purchased.

“Are you never concerned about your shopping habits? At the very least, is your bank account… stable?” I asked while he wandered through the streets.

I managed to travel through an alley without shops, letting us take a break to munch on sweets he had purchased earlier.

They were little pies full of cream that exploded with strawberry and vanilla flavoring.

“I wouldn’t make such purchases if I couldn’t afford them.” Mr. Hawthorne picked the edges of the treat off to feed to Slate, who had returned from his adventures with a gold earring—I hoped it wasn’t real—and a faux flower. Both had been dropped into one of Mr. Hawthorne’s bags.

“What will you do when the day comes that Ivory House is too full?”

Slate cawed when he shrugged. “I will add on another room, I suppose.”

“When the island is too small?”

“Make it bigger.”

I gave him a stern look that likely meant nothing with me licking the cream from my fingers. He caught me doing so, and I hesitated while he cleared his throat. “You are worried over nothing.”

Blushing, I used a napkin from our bag of treats to clean my hands. “Greed starts simple and grows too much to bear. At times, I fear for you, Mr. Hawthorne.”

He pursed his lips, glancing this way and that. Slate cawed, and Mr. Hawthorne reached up to pet him. “Has Carline settled down?”

“She left a while back. I haven’t seen or heard from her.”

“Good. Then, what shall we do next? ”

“I want to see the ocean.” The words were the truth, and Mr. Hawthorne ensured I could not hide from that truth.

“Then, you will see it.” He hailed a carriage once we stepped onto a main street. Slate flew off again. He had more opportunities to steal.

When Mr. Hawthorne and I sat side by side, my toes curled, and I kept my hands in my lap, bound tightly together. Though the ocean was not visible from the carriage window, the scent carried through. My heart raced, though I knew not what for: the ocean or…

The carriage stopped. Mr. Hawthorne departed first. He waited, the door opened, and sunlight haloed around his hair.

“The ocean awaits,” he said, and between the words were crashes of the sea.