Page 18 of Prince Charming

But this firing to life in his sternum wasn’t only about attraction.

It wascare.

He wanted to care for her.

And she rejected any form of connection he offered.

It sucked to be him.

When he’d been in the hospital, Marianna had come by more than once, bringing food and magazines, but he’d lost his vision for a scary week, so she’d read to him in her sultry accent.

Holding a hand out to help her up from the floor, it was then she raised her eyes. He didn’t see fear, but she wasn’t exactly friendly either. She climbed from the floor herself.

“I didn’t know you were a dancer.”

Limping to the benches, she grabbed a white towel with the gym’s insignia,Charming Souls,sewn in, and wiped her face.

“Because I did not tell you.”

Tag’s lips twitched.

Marianna had this way of speaking so fucking properly. With a better grasp of the English language than him. His middle America education would win him no prizes.

He liked her accent, even though it was as cold as it was soft.

He’d wondered more than a few times what she sounded like angry. If her voice became darker, huskier.

“You got me there,” he replied, amused. No smile returned, she pulled on an oversized sweater. “It looked good, what I saw of it.”

The Butcher warned months ago how they didn’t know Marianna.

Even victims worked for the enemy, he’d said.

Was sheBratvaloyal?

Had they broken her enough that she would side with her abusers?

Nah. He’d bet his own liver she hated theBratvamore than he did.

Knowing she was looking for a new life, Tag needed to remember—to slam the message home, right into the front of his fucking brain. She was his employee.

There was no room for him to see her through the eyes of a man who liked what he saw.

He could get women anywhere. He wasn’t called Prince Charming for nothing. Even with his gnarly scars, it still attracted the females.

This one was off-fucking-limits.

“I need to go.” Marianna collected her things. “I apologize for the music. It will not happen again.”

“Marianna, it’s fine, the gym is closed, you can use the machines, already told you that. Or dance.” He amended.

She didn’t look at him. “Goodnight, Sir.”

A fist of lust howled inside him.

If she looked back, she’d see a big bulge in his jeans.

She called him sir.

---