Until You

A/n: Yep, so it's been a while since my last update. I want to wish everyone a belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year. And thanks for all of the reviews! Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I own nothing Beauty and the Beast; Disney does.

Chapter Three

When Caresse opened her eyes, the sun was just making its way over the horizon, and birds were serenading the early dawn. The cottage was silent. Carefully, she slid out of the bed, quiet as a mouse. If she was lucky, maybe she'd awoken before her rescuer, the brute. Following the faint sound of heavy breathing, Caresse soon found herself standing in front of a half open door. Sliding between the small opening, for once grateful for her tiny size, she froze in fear at what she saw. There lay Bailey Corbin, naked to the waist, and drooling on his pillow like a little boy. Heat spread throughout her body. She backed away, eyes wide and watchful in case he suddenly sprang up from the bed and leapt for her. She had to get out of there now, before he woke. His affect on her was too strong; too dangerous.

Safely making it out of the bedroom, Caresse raced for the front door. She'd made it half way down the pathway, when she stopped, and made a frustrated sound. Where were her shoes?

& & &

She didn't want to go back in. But, just simply standing here in indecision was lessening her chances of escape. She had to be practical. She couldn't go trudging through the woods barefoot, and without a cloak. The nights were cold, the forest floors too littered with debris.

She didn't want to be practical. That man in there infuriated her; terrified her. She had no time to deal with an overbearing swine who obviously thought he was le cadeau du seigneur à la population femelle. She had no time to deal with the things he did to her insides. He was an obstacle, and she should be running in the other direction, forget the shoes.

But, she wasn't going to be stupid. No, she wasn't. She was going to charge in there, come hell or high water, grab her things…and run for dear life.

She opened the door, inch by slow inch, and poked her head in, her senses on high alert. So far, so good. She stepped in, looked around. What could he have done with her things?

She searched the cabin top to bottom, but found nothing but cobwebs and dust bunnies. It took a battle the size of a war to fight down a single sneeze.

Finally, there was only one more place she could look.

Caresse approached Bailey's room as if it were a snake ready to strike. He was still snoring softly, head buried in his pillow. It was hard to see, as the room was dark, and she had to wait a moment for her eyes to adjust. Sneaky as a cat, she tiptoed around the bed, looking under and around it. Nothing.

Just as she was about to resign herself to the fact that her stuff was gone forever, that the horrid Bailey Corbin must have disposed of it all, something out of the corner of her eye caught her attention. There, hanging on the back of the door, was her cloak. And her shoes were lying in a corner close by. Quickly, she grabbed up her things and dashed out of the room. She fled from the cottage with every ounce of energy she possessed, and didn't stop till she was sure that she was a safe distance away. As she put on her cloak and shoes, she didn't notice that it was beginning to lightly snow. Her mind was focused solely on one thing: escape.

She had no idea which way to go, and the most logical course of action was to go back the way they had come. But, Caresse knew she had been unconscious when Bailey had brought her here. It would do her no good. She decided to improvise. She touched the tip of her index finger to her tongue, and held it above her head. Going in the direction of the wind was better than going in a random direction, she assured herself. For the umpteenth time she wished she had brought a compass. Some outdoors explorateur she was.

She was relieved to be rid of him, she thought, as Bailey Corbin drifted around in her mind. He was rude and pig headed and…utterly gorgeous. Looks weren't everything, she admonished. They only went so far, and then personality took it the rest of the way. And as she'd said before, his personality left something to be desired.

When the snow flake landed on her cheek, Caresse merely brushed it away. Then she stopped in her tracks, and looked up. Thick, heavy grey clouds ready to burst at the seams with snow hung forlornly above her. Oh, magnifique! Just what she needed. By the looks of things, there was going to be a blizzard. She was almost positive.

She looked all around her as a cold wind began to blow. Though she would rather find cover in a wolf den, Caresse knew she had to get back to that damnable cabin some how. It was the only way she would survive the coming storm; the only dry shelter she knew of. If she didn't get there, she would most surely freeze to death!

Now, which way had she come from?

Caresse walked around in agitated circles. She'd purposely made random turns so Bailey could not find her, in case he decided to go after her. And now she'd gotten herself more lost than before. As she took a left at a familiar looking shrub, her teeth began to chatter. Could she not catch a break? First the wolves, now a snow storm. It was as if the universe was against her making this trip and would do everything in its power to keep her from completing it.

Ugh, it was getting too cold. She couldn't do this anymore! Her shoes were soaked through and snow kept getting in her eyes. She stopped walking for a moment, and pulled the cloak more tightly around her shivering frame. She looked up to the heavens as if asking for help and her breath caught at the sight of the virgin white snow dusting the bare tree branches. It was like something out of a dream. Caresse stood staring at the beautiful sight for a moment, and when she finally snapped out of her pleasurable daze found that the snow was falling harder. She was wasting precious time!

Oh, why was she always making rash decisions? That was her one major flaw--she was most impulsive, and always had been. She always acted before she thought. Or paid attention to the weather! Oh, where was that blasted cabin? Her injuries were beginning to throb from the exertion she was exposing her body to, and she had a stitch in her side. And if she was whining, oh well. She blamed those wolves for all of this. If it hadn't been for them, she could have been half way out of Molyneaux by now.

Perhaps, anyway.

It was nearly impossible to see what was in front of her, but she kept going. It was with sheer determination that she was able to just hunch her shoulders against the icy, cyclone-like wind and not give into the impulse to lay down in the snow and pray for all of this to go away.

Caresse found herself wishing to see the one person she was trying to escape. And she had to blink several times when her wish came true. He was a black smudge in the world of white that surrounded them. He was like something evil and unclean in a world so pure. He was at that moment the most beautiful unwelcomed sight she had ever laid eyes on.

He didn't seem to feel the same way about her, however, when he finally came to stand in front of her. His eyes sparked blue flames. But, Caresse didn't care. All she could think about was that she wasn't going to spend any longer in this increasingly worse storm. She did wince, however, when he finally spoke, his voice edged with steel and booming through the tree tops.

"Are you mad?" That was all he said, and then he was dragging her away by the arm. She was sure she would now have a bruise to add to her list of injuries, but she didn't care. Maybe things would start going her way now. She just had a feeling.

& & &

Bailey studied the slumbering girl as she turned in her sleep. How had he gone from being comfortable and ready to settle down on his own for the winter, to having a beautiful, yet troublesome little girl under his care? This hadn't been in his plans, that was for sure. There was something very familiar about the long red-gold hair, the finely arched brows, and the Cupid's bow lips, but he couldn't quite place them. He'd never seen her before, yet he was almost positive that he had. Well, he had plenty of time to figure it all out. For the near future, or at least until her arm healed, he was stuck with Mademoiselle Iolanthe Raissa. Violet Rose. What an odd, yet beautiful name. He bit back a derisive laugh. Much like its owner.

Most of the females he had encountered had been meek and simpering whisps of things. A bit like his mother had become after…well, that wasn't important. But not this one. No. Iolanthe was fire, unafraid to speak her mind, and was most definitely fighting him at every turn. She'd made it plain, more than once, that she could do just fine without him. But despite all of her bravado, he knew she was alone and he felt it was his duty to make sure she stayed safe.

And it had nothing to do with that little something about her that was drawing him to her like a moth to a flame.

When he woke in the morning to find both the girl and her belongings missing, he barely bit back a stream of curses. How had he not woken up when she'd fetched her things from his room? He was usually a man always on his guard, even in sleep.

Once he found her, and he would find that foolish female, he was going to throttle her.

& & &

When they reached the cabin, Caresse was blasted with a thick blanket of warm air. She breathed it into her lungs and walked straight over to the fire place. Ah, how nice it was to be warm. As she recuperated, Caresse pretended not to notice that Mr. Corbin, her rescuer twice now, was staring at her intently from across the room, muscular arms crossed over his broad chest in the stance she was beginning to identify as purely him. He definitely didn't seem happy at the prospect of having been her rescuer. Well, she wasn't either. It was disconcerting. She was supposed to be making this journey all on her own, not with a companion. And yet it seemed that without him, twice now she could have been dead.

Well, she just had to get the hang of all of this surviving in the wild spiel and she would be just fine.

"I-I suppose I should thank you," she said when the tense silence became too much. The atmosphere sparked with the feeling that something was going to happen, and she wanted to get on with it.

"You would not have to be thanking me if you hadn't gone out into that storm!"

Caresse grudgingly agreed with him. "Quite true. But, the fact of the matter is I do not want-"

"Silence! No more talk from you; I want answers."

Caresse bit back the retort she had about his chauvinistic behavior and what he could do with it. She stood up and paced around the room. He wanted answers, and she supposed she owed him some sort of explanation after all that he had done for her. But, what to say? She couldn't very well come out with the fact that she was a runaway princess, with what she was sure was a fleet of palace guards after her. That would go over wonderfully.

Oh, she did not like the feeling of being pursued by anyone. It made her feel like a vulnerable deer being stalked by a hunter. It was a helpless feeling, and Caresse did not like feeling helpless. The only good thing that could come out of this dratted snow storm was a delay in the guard's search. Any extra minutes she could get for a head start was like a single pièce to a beggar looking for a meal.

She started at the feel of a calloused hand brushing her cheek. She turned her head slightly and her eyes immediately became caught up in her unwanted savior's own.

"I will not hurt you, peu un." His voice sounded smooth as chocolate.

Caresse wondered what he was up to, when she realized that Bailey was flirting with her. He had been nothing but a prick since she'd met him, and now he was flirting with her? She raised a brow and gave him a seductive look. Or at least something she hoped at least resembled a seductive look, and did not make her look bug-eyed and constipated. Two could play whatever game he was playing.

"I am flattered to know that, monsieur," she all but purred, running a finger down the front of his shirt like some bold heroines did in books she'd read.

Something flared in his eyes and he grabbed her wrist, no longer gentle, and pulled her hard against him. "Do not play with fire, peu un. I can be nice about this, or not so nice. You decide."

Caresse bit back a self-congratulating smile. She'd solved the puzzle. He'd been trying to charm her to persuade her into giving him answers. She wondered what his reaction would be if he knew he'd been manipulated into his little approprié d'humeur. Men were so daft sometimes.

All thoughts of daft men and manipulation fled from Caresse's mind when she suddenly saw how close Bailey's lips were to her own. So close she could feel their breath intermingling. Butterflies started to dance la valse in her stomach; her heart pounded like a rapidly ticking clock. If she tilted her head just so, just tipped it a little to the right, she could touch her lips to his…

A/n: Well, so okay. I don't really know about this chapter. Be forewarned that I may re-write it. If you see anything wrong with it or anything at all, please tell me. I will love you forever.

Oh, and it seems I have quite a large translator list this chapter (I should cut down on the French!):

Le cadeau du seigneur à la population femelle: Basically, it means 'the lord's gift to the female population'.

Explorateur: Explorer

Magnifique: Magnificent

Peu un: Little one

Monsieur: Sir

Approprié d'humeur: Fit of temper

La valse: The waltz

Pièce: Coin

Sooo, I think that's all. If I missed anything, let me know.

-Rory4