Page 5 of Prince Charming

It was such a female conundrum to wonder why he didn’t at least flirt with her, but one best not dwelled on.

“Is there something I can help with?” She asked carefully.

English was not her first language. She often struggled with certain words or phrases, fortunately she listened to everyone’s chatter and picked up things quickly. Tag had always been patient with her when she verbally stumbled, though she’d been learning more and more in the past months.

Not academic, she’d thrown herself into speaking clearer. Learning all she could from romance movies, romance books and CNN. It was another of her secrets.

“Don’t look so worried, darlin’.” He smiled then, flashing his straight teeth behind thick pink lips. It was always a fast perusal of her body. A man thing, she thought. He streaked over her leggings and loose-fitting sweater before returning to her face. “Wanted to check in, haven’t been by for a few days, everything going okay?”

Oh. Yes, she had noticed his lack of presence.

When Tag was around, everyone knew it. She knew it.

Lowering her shoulders, Marianna nodded. “Da. I mean, yes, Sir. Everything has been,” her mind checked through the translation and finished by adding, “uneventful, thank you.” Because of his injuries not so long ago, he now sported a faded white scar along one side of his cheekbone where he’s had reconstruction to fix the bone. It didn’t ruin the godlikeness of his features.

Not at all.

He was so much bigger than he seemed from a distance. Nothing steroid-like as she’d seen with the gym meatheads. He possessed a leaner strength, hidden by denim and leather most days.

Tag was a tall man, towering well over six feet two if she had to hasten a guess. She’d seen him working out in boxing shorts many times, so didn’t have to speculate at his body type. It was fit and lean with muscles. A weathered brawn, slab upon slab of inked steel. Definition on every limb, not an ounce of body fat, many would drool over.Not her. She looked at him—not as a woman would—and saw how his jawline was sharp and curved into a strong chin. Dusted in fine wheat colored hair to match that on top of his head. He wore it in the style she’d seen a lot of men wearing here at the gym. Shaved around the sides with a step to the longer hair on top. He kept it neat and swept off to one side.

Being in Tag’s presence always put an anxious gallop into her heart.

It raced through her chest, and she forced her feet to hold before she skittered off like a lunatic.

Lord, she was pathetic to get this worked up over a man who’d been nothing but kind.

She was not afraid of men.

Only bad, untrustworthy men like her ex-boyfriend who’d sold her a lie.

“That’s good,” he leaned back in the leather chair, a smile inching up one side of his mouth. She knew why everyone called him Prince Charming, though his MC name was Tag. Because he was extremely and naturallycharming. It was no surprise the gym had the highest rating of women members. They all hoped to have Tag teaching one of the boxing classes.

She might be dead from the throat down, but she recognized a handsome man when she was in front of him.

Tag was beautiful.

A man sculpted by a talented angel and given all the attributes a woman’s dirty fantasy could conjure. She watched his long-tapered fingers reach for a sheet of paper on his desk, his head bowed, giving her free rein to roam her gaze.

The blue-eyed fighter biker was not married.

Women flocked intoCharming Soulslike they were going to a rock concert. All because of him.

They were flapping bees around pollen in hopes he would notice them.

As beautiful as he was, as kind, Tag unquestionably suited being a biker too.

From what she knew of them, he may not have a scraggly beard, as was her limited knowledge of bikers from her books. And he looked as though he stepped out from the pages of a model catalog, but he wasall biker.

A slight aura of danger, the sense a person gets when they know not to trifle with someone. Tag had it. Even with his easy smile.

She had a lot to be grateful for, to him and his biker club. Whether or not they meant to, they broke her free from a hellhole.

He shifted his eyes back to her and Marianna felt the familiar galloping in her chest again. She’d limited these alone times for no other reason than she knew she needed to.

Unable to be his friend when he was a means to an end.

She already felt like a fraud for taking his charity.

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