Belle of Bellville
Chapter 12

Copyright© 2015 by Catharinas_SOL

Romantic Sex Story: Chapter 12 - The men at Barrington Ranch need a housekeeper and cook badly. When a mysterious and beautiful Louisiana belle responds to their ad, no one believes she's up to the task. But she soon proves she's as adept at cooking and cleaning as she is at hiding her secret past from everyone - everyone except Jacob Barrington, that is.

Caution: This Romantic Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction  

She was speechless. Dumbstruck. Terrified. She swore she was caught in the middle of a horrible nightmare and she wished she could wake up. But she knew she was already awake and ... that this was real.

He was actually here, in Bellville, in the café. Oh god ... he found her.

She’s always known that he eventually would if she remained in one place too long. But she’d only been in Bellville for five days total! How in the hell did he find her so quickly?

She watched his gaze go from excited on her, then cold as he looked at Jacob. The latter was sitting back in his seat, arm casually over the back support, smiling up at him.

“Wh-What are you doing here?” she was able to get through her strangled throat.

“Why, I came for you, of course, Petite.”

“No.” She shook her head. “No. You shouldn’t be here. You shouldn’t have—”

“—No, Isabella,” he cut in. “You shouldn’t have.” His smile vanished as he watched her eyes grow rounder. Then he smiled again. “But it’s okay. I’ve found you and that’s all that matters. All is forgiven.”

She seriously doubted that.

“I’ve decided to escort you home and to your ailing father. He’s dying to see you.”

“Those are poorly chosen words, Charles—”

“—I asked you who this gentleman is and you have yet to answer me.”

Then Jacob spoke up. “If you wanna know who I am, just ask me straight,” he said calmly. “I’m sittin’ right here and I ain’t deaf. Don’t need anyone speakin’ for me.”

Charles moved his hard green eyes to the blond cowboy’s handsome face. He was nearly spitting with jealousy, seeing his Isabella with such a good-looking man. It was killing him inside but you wouldn’t know it from looking at him.

“Do you know who I am, sir?” Charles asked the cocky cowboy.

“Charles DeVille.”

Charles’ eyebrows popped in surprise, taken aback. Then he looked at Isabella who had her eyes down. “You’ve told this cowboy about us, Izzy.”

“Don’t call me that,” she said with a barely audible whisper. Then she looked up at him, her blue eyes hard in their sockets. “Don’t ever call me that again, Charles.”

He merely smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes. “I apologize,” he said without contrition. “So, you’ve told this cowboy about us?”

“There is no ‘us’. And I thought I heard you’d gotten married. What are you doing here? You should be with your wife!”

“That’s old news. Didn’t work out. So I’m without a wife, sad to say.” He shook his head. “And I’ve already answered you—I’ve come here for you. Now that you’ve had your fun dallying about the country, you ought to come with me. I’m taking you out of this godforsaken place and back to your lovely home and your father’s side where you belong.”

“I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Really?” Charles said with a deceptively polite smile. Then he moved forward to take her wrist but in the next instant, his path was blocked. A broad-shouldered, six foot plus cowboy with the friendliest smile and hardest blue eyes this side of the Mason-Dixon was standing in between him and Izzy.

“You heard the lady. She ain’t goin’ anywhere with you.”

Charles’ smile vanished as he slowly straightened and glared at the taller man in front of him. Everything inside him lit in rage, and his first instinct was to lash out physically. Then his gaze dropped to the holstered gun on his hip before it slowly rose to meet cold blue eyes.

“Step out of my way, sir. This is between Miss Beaumont-Boucher and me.”

Isabella nearly winced when she heard Charles give her full name. Now Jacob’s going to think she’s a liar as well as a fraud!

“I just made it between you and me,” Jacob said with a cold smile.

“Isabella,” Charles said without taking his eyes off the cowboy, “tell your friend to stand down. I know he thinks he’s doing you a favor, coming to your rescue like some gunslinger hero from the wild, wild west,” then he looked passed the blond man to her, “but you know as well as I that he’s only making matters worse.”

“What? You’ve got your brains in your back pocket?” Jacob said with that irritating smile. “This ain’t Connecticut, Yankee. Look around you. This is Bellville, Texas. Around these parts, you don’t go digging up more snakes than you can kill if you’re half as smart as you think you are. Now as I see it, the lady don’t wanna go with you, so how about you turn tail and mosey on back under the rock you’d crawled out from under and leave well enough alone.”

Isabella was stunned that so many words came out of a usually one-word Jacob Barrington.

Charles had paused and even looked a little alarmed. He finally became aware of his surroundings and that it had gotten dead silent in the café. He turned his head to look over one shoulder and then turned to look over the other. He saw all patrons there were staring rigidly at him. They weren’t looking as friendly as they had when he entered. He’d been warned that the Barringtons were Bellville’s VIP family. He knew he couldn’t win this, what with all those ‘Bellvillians’ packing guns and eager to protect one of their own—especially a Barrington.

Then he looked at the tall blond cowboy in front of him. He smiled and the smile was returned. “You must be Jacob Barrington,” he said, but the cowboy didn’t respond. “I’ve done my homework, as well, as you can hear. But at the moment, it appears you have the advantage, Mr. Barrington.”

If the Barrington boy was surprised that he knew who he was, he didn’t show it.

“Reckon I do.”

“Look, sir,” Charles said with a deep breath before he smiled, “I don’t want any trouble. I’m here as a favor to Isabella’s gravely ill father. Now be the gentleman I know your mother raised you to be, step aside, and we’ll be on our way.”

The mirth on Jacob’s face was wiped clean and his blue eyes became shards of ice as he stepped to the darker man in front of him, seeing him arch arrogant eyebrows back. “Now I know I don’t know you from Adam’s off ox, but the way I see it, you don’t look as if you can ride and chew at the same time. So I’m gonna make it real clear for you,” he began as he stared tightly into the other man’s eyes. “She ain’t goin’ anywhere with you.”

Charles’ smile faded as he stared determinedly into twin shards of blue ice. “You’re making a big mistake, Mr. Barrington. You have no idea who you’re dealing with.”

Jacob smiled calmly. “Likewise.”

After a few more moments of a stare-down match, Charles finally turned his attention on Isabella who raised her gaze defiantly to him. “See you soon, Izzy,” he said, chuckling when he saw her stiffen. Then he turned and calmly exited the café, and the patrons there resumed their socializing as if nothing had happened.

Jacob calmly seated himself as Isabella watched his face closely.

She dropped her gaze and watched as her fingers nervously picked on one another. “He’s a dangerous man, Jacob,” she said quietly, and raised her gaze to see him looking at her.

“Meanin’?”

She stared at him for a few moments. She wanted to tell him that she needed to leave Bellville as quickly as possible, but she felt he would just try and stop her. Then she shook her head and finally picked up her tea cup. Unfortunately, she couldn’t stop her fingers from shaking, something she saw Jacob’s sharp gaze pick up on.

“I just don’t want anyone hurt because of me—”

“—Drink up, Bella. We’ve gotta be headin’ back to the ranch.”

She frowned, curiously. “Why?”

He merely stared at her.

She finally nodded, knowing he was right. She was a sitting duck out in public—and so was he. She knew Charles didn’t come alone and it was just be a matter of time before his goons would show up and try to take Jacob down. Then a slow frown appeared on her brow before she raised her gaze and looked at his calm face as he finished the last bite of pie.

“You knew he was in town,” she stated.

“Yup,” he said as he took a paper napkin and wiped his mouth.

She set her cup down. “You knew he’d be in this café this morning.” Then she frowned. “That’s why you came to town. That’s why you dragged me here.”

He raised lazily lidded eyes and looked at her. “It ain’t the only reason but, yea, I knew he’d be here this morning and I reckon I wanted him to see you ain’t alone.”

“How long have you known about him?”

“Since you called out his name when you passed out in the kitchen.”

Her jaw nearly dropped. “And ... when were you going to tell me?”

“You ain’t exactly come clean with me, Isabella Beaumont-Boucher.”

She stiffened and had the decency to blush to the roots of her hair. “You’ve known all along what my true name is.”

“Yea.” He shrugged. “Wasn’t all too hard findin’ out, though. Internet and all that.”

She shook her head. “I should’ve known...” Then she raised her head and looked at him. “I don’t believe he was intimidated enough to take your advice and leave Bellville,” she said with a frown. “Not that you’re not imposing, mind you, but he’s a man obsessed. I believe I should just leave—”

“—First off, I didn’t give advice,” he told her firmly as he looked at her. “Second, like I said, he ain’t got enough sense to spit downwind. He’s only brought three men.” He shook his head as if that were really stupid. “Third, you ain’t goin’ nowhere now he’s in town.”

“You don’t understand, Jacob,” she said earnestly. “These aren’t ordinary men. They’re hired professionals.”

He studied the fear in her eyes for a moment, and then motioned with his head. “Come on,” he said as he rose from his seat and fished out a wallet from his back pocket. “We best get goin’.”

She nodded as she quietly rose to her feet as well. Then she watched as he tossed a few bills onto the table, returned his wallet to his back pocket, and took up his hat and set it on his head before he walked toward the exit, leaving her to follow. Once outside, though, he waited for her to come beside him before he placed a hand in the small of her back and had her walk beside him. Strangely, that gesture instantly comforted her.

Once they got to her Rover, he stopped and disengaged the alarm on the passenger’s side before he pulled open the door. Then he turned and looked at her.

When she realized what he wanted, she asked, “What about your truck?”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re drivin’ back in your Rover just in case he’s thick enough to follow. Don’t want him tryin’ somethin’ stupid on the road and get you hurt.”

“Oh.” She blinked big frightened eyes. “Thank you.” Then nodded and finally got in the passenger’s seat. She placed her bag on her lap as he closed the door, rounded the front of the Rover, and got in behind the wheel. He adjusted the seat—since it was pushed forward to accommodate her height—and then stuck the key in the ignition.

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head. “Why are you doing this for me?”

He brought the engine to life but paused, then turned to look at her from under his hat with a grim set to his lips and jaw. Then he slipped a hand behind her neck and leaned over to her while he watched as she blinked big shocked eyes ... and then he kissed her. He kissed her long and deeply before he slowly pulled back, seeing her look at him in astonishment, and knowing she got his message loud and clear.

“That’s why,” he said before he turned in his seat and shifted. “Now we best git goin’ ‘fore we’re late.”

She frowned as she looked at him. “Late?”

“You’ll see,” he said, and drove them back to the ranch.


As she sat quietly in the passenger’s seat, she bit her lip in worry. Charles was in Bellville, and she had no doubt he wasn’t going to leave until he got to her. Now that her secret was exposed—and with it, the many, many lies she had to tell in order to keep it—she wondered how the rest of the Barringtons were going to react toward her.

Not good, she guessed.

Then again, lying must be ingrained in the Beaumont-Boucher genes since her brother had lied about Charles’ marital status. She was very cross with her brother. Now she had evidence—irrefutable evidence—that Charles hadn’t stopped pursuing her and he wasn’t married. Either Reginald didn’t know about Charles’ schemes or he was an accessory. If the latter, she’ll never forgive him for it. NEVER.

With her elbow on door, absently nibbling her thumbnail as she thought about these things, she became aware that Jacob hadn’t said a word ever since leaving Bellville City. She stole a furtive glance his way, seeing him calmly steering, his hat back on his golden locks and his eyes trained on the empty road ahead.

“So. That was Charles.”

She realized that he’d been aware of her looking at him, and he looked over at her with unreadable but lazy blues. Her eyelashes flickered nervously as she nodded, but she looked down at her lap as her slender hands smoothed imaginary wrinkles from her skirt.

“Yes.”

“How long have you been runnin’ from him?”

“Well, not running, exactly, but more like making myself scarce, hoping that he’ll come to the realization—”

“—Runnin’.”

She sighed softly. “Yes.”

“How long?”

She shook her head with a slight frown, and swallowed before she lifted her head to look out her window. She didn’t want him to see the shimmering of tears in her eyes. “Since I was twelve. But lately?” She sighed. “Little more than a year.”

He turned his head and looked at her, his jaw a little more rigid. “Twelve?”

She stared at him for a moment before she dropped her eyes to her lap, and nodded. She didn’t see how an angry spark appeared in his eyes before he returned his attention to the road ahead.

“Is that when he hurt you?”

“No.” She shook her head and quickly swiped away a tear rolling down her cheek. “It was a few years later, a year before my mother died.”

“That’s not a few. By my calculations, that’s a couple. That makes it two.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Matters to me.”

She cleared her throat as she fidgeted in her seat. “Anyway, you understand I can’t stay now. I have to go. I’ll try to find a replacement, but I can’t promise I can stay until I do since you’ve taken down the advertisement at the Postal Plus two days ago—”

“—James told me how your mother died,” he said. “An auto accident.”

 
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