Chapter 10 – Thursday

Bella Swan had a busy Thursday morning. She sent off a book to an antique books dealer in London. It was something she had received from Edward for the previous week's reading. The book was a pompous, dull and tedious tome written by a pompous, dull and tedious 19th century writer, of special interest to some niche collectors, but absolutely loathed by Bella. It was a book she would have gladly sold even if she had inherited the collection from her father. Even Edward had arched a brow when he saw the title she picked. The funds from the sale of the book would be put towards finally getting a new boiler for the cottage.

By sheer coincidence, her mother had been approached by roofers from a nearby village looking for a cottage roof just like theirs to test out some new roofing techniques. Because they were the guinea pigs, the roofers said, they would charge just the minimal material costs. For Bella, the offer could not have come at a better time. They were running out of jars and pans to catch the leaks and the cottage was getting unlivable. She spent the morning looking after the roofers and making sure they were supplied with mugs of steaming hot tea.

Lastly, Bella finalised what she would wear for the day. After the near breakdown in Edward's self-control yesterday, she decided she would shift her focus from merely distracting him to actively tempting him to touch her. According to their agreement, if Edward touched her anywhere other than her exposed skin, he would forfeit and lose the wager. She decided this was a better strategy than trying to last the rest of the week without saying his name.

She picked a thin long-sleeved turtle-neck top that was more suitable for late spring than mid-winter. The high neckline would protect her and frustrate him, Bella thought with a smile. She wore it without a bra, as he had blushingly requested on Wednesday. In her freezing bedroom, the outline of her curves were sharply delineated against the thin fabric. She completed the outfit with a short tweed skirt, and the black tights and knee-high riding boots from the previous day. She examined her reflection in the mirror.

Edward Cullen was going down.

Pure. Evil.

He was Pure Evil.

If Pure Evil could look like an angel while playing the piano.

When Bella arrived at the library, she was surprised to hear the tinkling of piano keys. Even so, she was unprepared for the sight that awaited her in the main library.

Edward Cullen was seated at the piano, his distinctive profile silhouetted against the window. The cool winter light washed his forearms and hands an eerie grey as his fingers danced across the keys with ease. His eyes were closed, his lips slightly parted as he surrendered to the sweet music he was coaxing from the instrument. She could not look away, could not breathe, until the last note was sounded.

He opened his eyes slowly as if awakening from a pleasant dream before turning to her and giving her a beatific smile.

Bella, who had been leaning against the door frame in a daze, gripped it harder to hold herself up.

His gaze held her face before sliding down to the high collar of her thin turtle-neck. He looked...disappointed? It travelled down her body, past her skirt, to her knee-high boots, and back up again to where she knew his eyes would linger.

After all, he did increase the stakes to 200 books for her to not wear a bra.

She knew that he was here to find out what she was wearing so that he wouldn't be caught offguard again, like yesterday.

Flustered by his frank appraisal of her body, she hurried to her desk and made a great show of setting up her work.

He passed her on his way out, bent down and murmured lowly in her ear,

"I'll turn the heating up. You look...cold."

Bastard.

It was all very well being strategic and using any advantage she had to win the wager, but Bella was freezing. The thin turtle-neck and short skirt that were so handy for beguiling a man, did very little in the way of insulating her against the winter chill. She decided to keep warm by moving the books that needed be transferred between the main library and the shelf room. She was carefully balancing a pile of 20 books in her arms when a cheerful voice rang out from the library entrance,

"Edward! You can't hide from me forever!"

Startled, Bella lost her precarious hold on the pile of books, scattering them all over the floor. The sharp corners of the books scraped her hosiery-clad legs as they fell, making her wince with pain.

Damn short skirts! A pox on all cheap tights!

There was no point trying to hide. Whoever was at the door must have heard the commotion she caused when she dropped the books and would be coming in to investigate. She straightened her clothes, clutched a large volume to cover her chest and attempted to look as dignified as she could.

"Something is up! I can smell it! This house is big, but I will find you...well, hello there. And who might you be?" The amiable intruder had blond hair, an open, weathered face well-acquainted with the outdoors, and an easy, confident manner.

"I'm Isabella. I'm helping Mr Cullen catalogue his library." Bella spoke with as much hauteur as she could summon while standing in what looked like the aftermath of a book explosion.

"I see." The man elected to politely ignore the mess around Bella. He squinted at her and then widened his eyes in recognition. "But aren't you...?" He pointed in the general direction of Swan Manor.

"Yes."

"Then how..."

"Mr Cullen was kind enough to offer me a job. Please don't tell anyone. If my mother finds out, I'll become an orphan. I'm not sure her heart can take it."

"Well, in that case, you have my word. Pleased to meet you, Isabella. I'm Jasper Whitlock. I'm Edward's estate manager. I'm also married to his cousin Alice." The skin on his hand as he clasped hers in a firm handshake was warm and rough.

"Pleased to meet you, Jasper. He was here earlier today but he left around 1."

"I see, thanks for telling me." Jasper looked down at her boots thoughtfully.

"By the way Isabella, have you noticed Edward behaving strangely recently? I think he bought a start-up in Germany yesterday."

"He mentioned it but I'm afraid I'm the wrong person to ask. I haven't worked here long and he doesn't discuss his business dealings with me."

Jasper eyed her speculatively before bending down to scoop up the books. Clearly athletic, he had the books piled on her desk in no time. Breaking into a wide smile that crinkled the edges of his eyes, he bade her farewell,

"Well, I'll be off then. Got an estate to run. I hope I'll see you around sometime."

"I'm sure we'll run into each other again. Thank you for your help."

As he turned to leave, Jasper murmured something under his breath which sounded like "Boy never does anything the easy way."

Bella's shoulders sagged with relief. Her day was eventful indeed.

Edward strolled in at 5 minutes to 4.

"Jasper came in here looking for you today."

"Oh did he? You don't have to worry about Jasper telling anyone. He's a good friend. I trust him completely. But I'll tell him not to come in here anyway."

"He said that you've been...distracted lately?"

Edward didn't reply, merely making a non-committal sound as he sat down next to her. He ran a finger along the edge of her turtle-neck, his nail glancing her neck very lightly.

"You like it when I touch your neck, don't you? Why else would you cover it?" His voice was throaty.

"Or maybe you know how much I like touching your neck." Edward leaned in to brush his nose along the same path his finger had been.

A light shudder ran though Bella. She would have to act fast before he gained the upper hand. She pushed him back gently. "I want to try something."

She put her left hand on her knee. Picking up his right hand, she placed it over her left. His large hand covered hers completely. She began circling her knee with her left hand. "Move your hand with mine." She guided their hands a few inches up her leg and slowly back down again. "It's still within our rules. Your hand is touching mine, nothing else, see?"

Bella knew he was painfully aware of this. From his perspective, with his hand completely engulfing her small one, it would seem as if he was running his hand up and down her leg. But of course he could feel nothing, just the back of her hand.

Edward was staring at his hand, entranced. She dragged their hands further up her leg to her hip, across her stomach, and down to her other knee.

She heard Edward inhale sharply as she lay back and stretched her body out on the sofa. Their hands were at her belly button now. She pulled their hands languidly up her body, forcing him forward so that his body loomed over hers.

The air was still as Bella inched their fingers over her breast. Edward swallowed thickly. She felt his grip tighten over hers. This was exquisite torture, to be so close, to see it right before you and yet feel nothing.

"Come here." With their hands still over her breast, she pulled his face down to hers. He started to kiss the corners of her mouth with a sweet urgency.

"Isabella...so cruel..." He was burrowing into the thin strip of skin on her neck left uncovered by the collar. She found herself arching back to give him more to taste.

Focus, Bella. Focus.

She could win this. She was so close.

She carefully lifted their hands from her breast and slipped hers away from underneath his. Edward stopped kissing her and stared at his hand, now hovering just inches above her breast, realisation sinking in.

"No, Isabella, I..." His gaze lingered on her body. She knew the flimsy fabric hid nothing.

"No!" Edward backed away from the sofa, his voice tinged with desperation. His hand caught the edge of a chessboard on the coffee table, sending the chess pieces flying across the floor.

The spell was broken. Bella sat up on the sofa, humiliated. She had been so determined to win, she had resorted to underhanded methods she wasn't proud of. She stared glumly at the fire while Edward went on his hands and knees, gathering the chess pieces around her feet.

"Oh. Fuck." Bella looked up, surprised at the soft cuss. Edward did not swear. He swiftly deposited the pieces on the board and was seated next to her in an instant.

"Isabella, I call a truce. We both get what we want. You get your 200 books, I get my date. What do you say?"

"No." All she had to do was last through Friday's session without saying his name. She wouldn't give up now.

"Last chance. No? Fine. Then let me tell you a story..." His breath was warm on her ears.

"Once upon a time, there was a beautiful princess. A prince from a neighbouring kingdom saw the beautiful princess and tried everything he could to win her heart. He picked her the loveliest flowers from his castle." Bella shifted uncomfortably. Where is he going with this?

"He found her foods from exotic lands." Bella remembered the chocolates and the delicate macarons. Could it be?

"He played her sweet music. He even gave her his most precious belongings - his books. But his efforts were to no avail. The princess would not look at him. She would not even speak his name...

"One day, the prince decided to do something different. He went to the princess, got down on his knees and worshipped her..."

What?

It was then she felt it. The slightest pressure on her skin, halfway along her upper leg, on her inner thigh.

But how...?

She looked down. There it was, in the middle of her inner thigh, a large hole in her tights, spanning 4 or 5 inches in length, a little more than an inch wide. The sharp book corners must have laddered her tights when Jasper startled her earlier. The hole would have been concealed by her skirt when she was standing. It was clearly visible now, and Edward 's thumb was lightly resting on the edge of it.

Oh. Bugger.

"Isabella, as per the terms of our wager, I need access to your exposed skin." Bella began to squirm. She didn't like where this was going.

"Spread your legs." Her heart slammed against her ribcage. She opened her legs hesitantly.

"Wider." She obeyed the authority in his voice instinctively.

"Wider." She had never felt so vulnerable, so exposed.

She watched as Edward calmly got down on his knees between her legs. He examined the hole in her tights with a clinical coolness before tracing it with the tip of his thumb. Bella closed her eyes and tried to control her shiver coursing through her body.

"No, I want you to look at me when I'm doing this to you." His thumb was stroking her skin now.

"Please...I..."

"Please what? All you have to do is say my name." His voice was soft, but the fingers teasing her thigh were softer.

"Come closer to me, Isabella." Bella shifted closer to the edge of the seat, acutely aware that she was exposing more of herself to him. He dipped his head and planted a lingering kiss in the middle of the rip, making her gasp.

He watched her reaction and leaned in for another kiss, this time closer to her centre. Satisfied with the little cry that escaped her, he reached for her right hand which was clutching on to the sofa for dear life, and smoothly guided it to the back of his head. He dipped his head again.

The little licks started out slow, languorous, as if he was taking his time to taste her skin. She found herself gripping his hair. So soft.

"Please..."

The licks became more urgent, more insistent.

"Please...I want..."

She knew, rationally, that his mouth could only go as far as the rip in her tights. But it didn't stop her from pressing his head to her in a silent plea.

His tongue was moving faster now. He had been holding back.

His breath was near the highest point of the rip. So close. But not close enough.

She couldn't..she wanted...

"Please...please...please...Edward!"

Reviews are better than clotted cream and home-made strawberry jam on warm, freshly-baked scones. Unless said scones are served by Manorward. Or on Manorward.

I originally planned the wager to last 5 days, with Bella crumbling on the last day, Friday. In the end, I decided that it would drag things out too much. The original "Friday" chapter involves a wardrobe malfunction. Outtake maybe.

Hole-in-stocking inspired by a brief but potent scene from "The Piano", Jane Campion's award-winning 1993 movie.