I found myself writing this story when someone suggested that Carlisle should've kidnapped Esme when they first met. Carlisle won't be kidnapping Esme in this one but instead, will take a more formal path. ;)

Sweet Temptations

The wheels of her chair rolled against the hard wooden floor as her governess pushed it through the hallway. Esme had no idea what was going on, but she was sure about one thing: whatever it was had the entire farmhouse bursting with excitement.

As soon as she woke up that morning, she noticed the maids frantically whispering and talking behind her back. The same seemed to be true of her stern aunts and mother, who during breakfast, were fanning themselves in such a way that she couldn't even see their faces.

Obviously, they were up to something.

Hours earlier, Esme's mother ordered her governess to dress her in her best dress, a silky white one Esme would never get used to since it was too delicate and pretty, and therefore useless for climbing trees. Oh climbing trees…how much she would love to be out there in the fields, running free, exploring nature and feeling the breeze caressing her skin… but she couldn't. Not only her broken leg was an impediment but also the harsh prohibition her parents imposed upon her. No wandering in the fields anymore: Never again.

Her parents reprimanded her in such a way after her fall from the oak…

It was heartbreaking.

Esme would never reach their expectations, even less when the whole town was always gossiping about how 'wild' and unladylike she was. Moreover, she had no suitors and that was obviously because of her atrocious behaviour and profound intelligence, something that wasn't encouraged in a future wife.

"A gentleman doesn't want woman who walks around alone, shoeless, ripping her dresses while climbing trees!" her mother told her. "You have to learn your place in society, Esme, and from now on you will focus on your etiquette lessons until you master the art of conversation and the art of silence. You will not go out again without supervision. My dear daughter, you must learn how to be a proper lady."

The art of silence, how could that ever exist? It was devastating to Esme. If loving nature was atrocious then she was doomed and… Well, if nobody wanted to marry her, it didn't matter...though it hurt a little. She wanted so much to fall in love and feel loved in return, just like the ladies in the romantic novels she enjoyed reading so much.

Her governess stopped the wheelchair to polish once more the elegant high-button black and white boots Esme was wearing. The woman had forced both shoes on her, even on the foot of her aching leg...What a tremendous fall she had from her darling oak tree!…Oh, but she couldn't deny it was fun. She had never climbed so high; the incredible sense of freedom up there was overwhelming...and like one of her friends had said, the fall was worth it since it took her to their small hospital where she would meet Doctor Cullen.

Esme lovingly touched the wrapping around her leg. Doctor Cullen had mended it, and she would never forget him. No man on earth could ever measure up to him. She would never forget his eyes on her when they first saw each other. During that moment she thought she had caused him the same impact he had upon her, since he was just as uneasy as she was when he introduced himself. Esme recalled how caring and gentle he was, the way he sheepishly looked at her the first time he touched her painful leg; his gaze was utterly entrancing. There was such a mysterious charm radiating from that man…

She entwined the fingers of her hands as her governess began to wheel her again. What a sweet temptation he was! May god forgive her for having such thoughts about a man so much older than her…

"Thirty-five." She had heard her aunt whispering to her mother a couple of days ago. "Thirty five years old, although he looks younger. He is single and extremely wealthy; without reservation an advantageous match."

Esme recalled accidentally pinching her finger with the needle of her embroidery when she heard that commentary. Thirty-five? Impossible. Esme was sure the Doctor was younger, probably between twenty-three and twenty-five years old…She had to bury her face behind her needlework to continue listening to the conversation.

"And he has a son." Her aunt fanned herself. "The boy is just as refined as his father. He is about Esme's age."

Esme's heart sunk. Doctor Cullen was older and he had a son. She had to learn to control her young tender heart. A man like Doctor Cullen would never look at her… She sighed. Esme wanted so much to fall in love and he was...

Her governess stopped her wheelchair again, and this time it was before the doors of her father's study.

"Esme Anne," she told her, "for once in your life behave yourself like a proper lady. Do you understand?" She waved her finger at her. "Remain quiet unless you're spoken to and for heaven's sake, don't talk back."

"What is happening?" Esme asked as the woman went to arrange her long waves of caramel hair.

"You look so beautiful." She cupped Esme's chin, giving the teenager a warm smile before she went to knock the doors, completely ignoring her question.

"She is young and well, she will bear you strong, healthy children..." The voice of Esme's father filtered out the door, his words calling her attention in a way she wasn't expecting. Who was going to bear whose children?

The governess knocked again and this time there was silence behind the doors...until her father's voice invited them to come in, and Esme was wheeled into the room, right before Mr. Platt's desk where he sat across from her. Her mother was standing right next to him, too.

"My dear Esme." Mr. Platt stood up from his chair. He seemed to be absolutely delighted to see her. More than usual considering how badly she had behaved. "We have a very important visit." Her father waved his hand toward the important visit she hadn't seen when entering the room. But there they were, two silhouettes outlined against the light that came from the large windows behind them. She didn't recognize them at first but then her hands inevitably twisted the skirt of her dress at the view.

Doctor Cullen was standing there. He took a step toward her, bowing before her in a courteous manner as signal of his greeting. He looked even more stunning than the last time she saw him. His dark, elegant clothes enhanced the paleness of his skin and the beauty of his striking blonde hair...and his eyes, his eyes were...breathtaking.

The second silhouette stood by Doctor Cullen's side and bowed to her too. He had the most impish smile on his face and looked like he was about her age. He was certainly Doctor Cullen's son.

"Esme." Her father spoke. "Doctor Cullen and his son Edward have pleasantly come to see you before leaving Ohio the day after tomorrow."

Was Doctor Cullen leaving? Her heart sunk.

"I hope you are feeling better, Miss Esme." Carlisle walked a little closer to her.

...and he could walk all the way if he wanted, she wasn't going to push him away. She couldn't help but feel her face burn in nervousness. Doctor Cullen was absolutely charming...but why, oh, why was his son looking so amused? She shot a glance at Edward who composed himself as soon as soon as he saw her eyes on him. That boy needed good discipline.

"I am," she replied softly, bringing her attention back to the Doctor. "Thank you, Doctor Cullen."

He couldn't help but notice a beautiful shade of pink illuminating her pale face when she thanked him.

Not only was she the most stunning girl he had ever seen, but she had a unique spirit he had never known in woman - never in his almost 300 years of existence. The rumors in town had confirmed his thoughts: Esme Anne Platt was an extremely exceptional lady. It all began that night when he met her, when she was painful agony as a result of a broken leg. The impact she had on him was powerful; for a second he thought he was going to lose his restraint as her scent was extraordinarily sweet and tempting. The sound of her voice and her ways were like music to his soul, a soul he thought had been strangled under the shadow of the unnatural being he was ...and his heart... his heart felt that strange and marvelous feeling he had never experienced before. From that moment on, he couldn't stop thinking about her.

"You fell for a human?" Edward told him two days later in absolute dread. "It's impossible. Forget it."

Carlisle tried hard to convince himself it was. He fought against all the encountered feelings in his being and reflected on the possible rational consequences of building a relationship with a human…but none of them could bring to a halt that irrational feeling called love. Love. How could he have fallen for a human? How could he make it work? Breaking all boundaries and even under Edward's disapproval, he decided he wanted her. It felt selfish at the beginning, but then he learned that Esme was going through a difficult period in her life - at least that's what the rumors in town had spread, and that was what Edward had revealed to him. But that only fed Carlisle's desire for her even more. He wanted her by his side, he wanted to marry her, he wanted her to be able to be herself without any chilling society restrictions for a young woman her age...and he wanted her to climb as many trees as she wanted.

"My mother says it is an inappropriate behavior." She told him that night with tears in her eyes. She was in terrible pain and seemed to be so ashamed of him knowing the reason behind her injured leg.

"Well." He whispered as he delicately wrapped her leg. "I believe it must have been a thrilling experience ...with a very unfortunate outcome, Miss Esme." He smiled at her and their eyes met.

A brief awkward silence invaded the room before Esme's father spoke again, interrupting Carlisle's thoughts

"Esme," Mr. Platt spoke in a clear voice, "you have grown into a beautiful young lady and your mother and I firmly believe that even though you have..." He glanced at her mended leg. "... a certain attitude, we're sure that you are ready to face the world like a woman."

Esme was completely baffled. A week ago she was a mischievous wild child with the most unsuitable behavior for a lady of her age and now she was...ready to face the world like a woman?

"To be precise…" Mr. Platt continued. "This is the reason why I have granted Doctor Cullen my permission to request your hand in matrimony."

Esme's stomach flipped completely upside down in utter shock. Suddenly the room seemed to be shrinking in size and the air around her felt extremely heavy when entering her lungs. It was a wonderful thing she was sitting, otherwise she would have surely lost her stability. What on earth did her father just say?

"Esme." She suddenly saw Doctor Cullen kneeling by her wheelchair... and he was calling her by her first name! She felt her pounding heart falling into her stomach and a choking knot building up her throat. "Miss Esme." He immediately corrected himself, not wanting to sound too bold. "I know we haven't built a proper acquaintance." He was a little tense, she could see it; she could sense it. He was as tense as she was. "But I have revealed the seriousness of my intentions to your father and my financial stability will ensure you the most secure future as my..." He tried hard not to stumble upon his words. "As my wife."

It was becoming a little difficult for her to understand the magnitude of that split second. There it was, the answer to the question of who was going to bear whose children…but why would a Doctor like him, of his position, want to marry someone like her? Someone who had shown herself to be thoughtless and clumsy enough to climb and fall from a tree...She wasn't exactly the delicate lady a man of his kind would chose to marry, even less when he had a son her age!

"Esme Anne." His voice couldn't be more solemn. "Would you do me the honor and the privilege of being my wife?"

Her lips parted to ask him the reason of his choice. Why her? Why not any of the beautiful and delicate women of the elite? But her mother's intense gaze warned her. It seemed by the look on her face that this whole scenario had been arranged with anticipation and both her parents were eagerly expecting her to accept his proposal. Of course. They wanted her to marry someone and no one had showed any interest in her because of her manners… but now, the best suitor in town had come to ask their daughter's hand ...

Esme cocked her head to one side, thinking...

"I don't cook very well..." She told him as her fingers began to twist the fabric of her dress. She wasn't ready to be a wife. She was terrible at everything a wife was supposed to do and to be; she was always sneaking away from the lessons her governess tried to teach her.

Carlisle chuckled. He knew. He knew everything about her based on the rumors in town but he didn't care. "That won't be necessary." His voice was calm and secure.

"Of course not." Edward added a little uncomfortable.

Esme nodded, looking at her nervous fingers twisting on her lap. She didn't know what she was doing but she unexpectedly felt her future tied to the amazing doctor. It took her just a split second to picture their future together and the most beautiful, romantic images came to her mind. She tried to look at his intimidatingly gorgeous eyes and saw nothing more than trust and care in them. What caused him to choose her among all the girls in town didn't matter anymore. If he was there, it was because he laid his eyes on her...He laid his eyes on her! And he wanted to marry her despite her particular behavior.

"Yes." She blurted out… and then acknowledging the weight of her words, the next sentence that came out of her lips was almost a whisper. "I will marry you."

She was sure her mother did her best effort not to faint at her answer and also that Edward Cullen wasn't very comfortable with it - at least, that's what she read out of his expression... But the look on her future husband appeared to be one of enormous gladness. His honey-colored eyes seemed to sparkle. "Edward." He called his son.

And without a word, the boy went to present him a velvet box of a crimson red color. He opened it before her and a gasp came out from her mother. Esme wasn't a jewelry girl but she couldn't help but admire the piece of jewelry in wonder. It was a ring, an engagement ring for sure. The workmanship was rather unique and the intricate filigree pattern crowned by a diamond was said to be a sign of her future social status, one of the most elevated ones. She never thought that morning when she woke up that her life was going take such unexpected twist.

In the most gallant gesture, Doctor Cullen asked for her hand, and thinking she was probably experiencing the most beautiful of all her dreams, Esme placed it on his inviting palm. It felt as cold as the night when he treated her leg but there was a special warmth radiating from it too…Before she could tell, he was sliding the ring on her finger.

He smiled shyly at her, and she gave him a timid smile in return, too.

There they were, two strangers who seemed to have fallen for each other.

Carlisle still couldn't believe she'd accepted. Neither the - presumably - considerable age difference between them, nor the unexpectedness of his proposal seemed to matter to her at all. Esme's eyes only confirmed the one thing Edward told him days ago, when the boy read Esme's mind as they crossed paths down the street: the girl was seeking someone with whom she could fall in love, someone that had to measure up to Carlisle himself. No less. What a sweet temptation she had unintentionally built in him!

Carlisle remembered his incredulity at Edward's words, but the boy was being honest. He had seen him frustrated and disheartened over the thought of not being able to take Esme as the companion of his future life… but Edward's words finally pushed him to execute the most significant decision of his life, and although Edward disapproved, he wanted Carlisle to have the happiness he deserved. It was surely a risky business but after all the gossips they both had heard about Esme, Carlisle finally knew she was going to be able to handle the truth of their nature - at least, that's what he hoped.

"Arrangements must be made immediately for tomorrow!" Her mother finally spoke.

"Tomorrow?" Esme looked at her parents in disbelief.

"I was offered a job in Chicago." Carlisle explained, his hand still holding hers. "And we must leave on Thursday." He gave it a tender squeeze.

"We?" Esme tried to understand the meaning of his statement. Thursday was the day after tomorrow.

"You must be married before you leave, Esme." Her father explained her.

For a second both Carlisle and Edward thought Esme had suddenly turned into one of them, as she sat immobile and pale like a marble statue on her wheelchair, but then softly she began to nod her head.

She didn't have a choice, did she?

Thanks a lot for reading :)