Page 111 of Prince Charming

“Yes, well. I prefer not to be around men of the law.”

He seemed to understand when he cracked a grin. “You don’t get it, but you’re safer here onSoulssoil. No one is gonna fuck with you, got it?” She frowned, unsure. “Think about it, a cop anda DA, who’s tanked out of his skull at an illegal fight. They ain’t busting anyone, Marianna. It’s cool, relax.”

Roux said much of the same. She breathed and accepted the glass of wine from her.

“Your man is the favorite to win.” Roux said. Marianna nodded, as one warm up fight ended, and the entry song began for the main event.

Oh, god.Please let him be okay.

Every inch of her heart was invested in Tag.

She hadn’t told him earlier when he grabbed her for a good luck kiss. Instead, she’d told him to win and absolutelynot to die.

Ugh. Why didn’t she confess how crazy good he made her feel?

What if something happened, and it was too late to tell him?

Sticking close to Butcher and Roux, she squirmed in her second-row seat, nerves so untamed under her skin.

The man in red shorts looked vicious.

But Marianna’s eyes were drawn to the other fighter in white shorts, looking like death as he swaggered into the cage.

She would absolutely put money on him.Her Tag. He looked downright villainous.

The blond Prince had morphed into a villain, and her heart thumped loudly.

Such a showman was Tag. He prowled around the cage, letting the crowd get a good look at the champion before he lowered the hood. When he was close, her blood sizzled as he turned to her and threw her a panty-melting wink.

She did something she’d never done before, and she blew him a kiss.

Few would recognize what he did as a sport.

They would see the sheer violence, the horrible aggression.

But when done right, it became a masterpiece of pure determination, agility, and skill.

His athleticism caused her mouth to flood each time she watched him in training. Each hard muscle so defined on his slab-solid body, it was a wonder he didn’t break furniture just by sitting on it.

The first round she was scared out of her mind for him, watching through her fingers.

The second round she was up on her feet, shouting as loudly as everyone else, swept up in the adrenaline.

Caught up in Tag, he was so fucking magnificent, playing with his opponent like he was the cat and the man his little bird.

“He’s in the zone.” Laughed Butcher. “He’s got this.”

Tag so had this.

Only four rounds and he got the pin. His punches, kicks and grapples were flawless, as if choreographed by a professional dancer. The man grimacing beneath Tag’s massive frame. He tapped out and Tag was the winner.

He won!

She screamed so loud her throat hurt.

Veins throbbed as she watched the referee holding up Tag’s arm in victory. The crowd going crazy with cheers, everyone around her worshipping the man she couldn’t take her eyes from as he lapped up the adulation.

Marianna could hardly breathe, she was so tight in her skin and she didn’t know why.

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