He's No Prince Charming (Ever After) Read Online Free Page A

Danni fought back a shiver of fear as she pressed back into the counter. She would not cower.
    But she would stay outside his reach.
    He looked casually about the room, skimming the shelves overrun with multitudes of novels and heavy tomes. His removed a pliant leather glove from one hand, then the other, and then pierced her with his gaze as she imagined a collector would pierce a bug. “In the end, Danni, I hope to be the one who will be helping you.”
    Shocked he knew her name, she gasped. “Excuse me, sir?”
    Danni was impressed when her voice didn’t quake. It was a small accomplishment in the face of such an overwhelming presence.
    “You, my darling Miss Green, are going to help me with some rather unpleasant business. In return, I will agree not to expose your little secret.”
    Oh God, no! Confusion and fear gripped her so tightly she could barely draw breath. He could not possibly know about her business. Perhaps he knew only that she used an alias. She’d thought by using the name Green, she would shield her father from scandal, but it wouldn’t take a Bow Street Runner long to discover whose name was on the deed to the building. “What sort of secret could I possibly have, sir? I am a lowly shopkeeper.”
    “Come now, don’t play the fool. I’d thought you at least had a little intelligence. You’re much more than a bookseller.”
    “I am ?”
    His eyes examined her slowly from head to toe. Danni felt as if he could see every inch of her body beneath her petticoats. “Oh, yes. You are a shop owner, but what type of shop you run is debatable.”
    A ball of tension that had formed in Danni’s chest dropped and landed heavily in the pit of her stomach. Which would be worse to be exposed? Her name or her business? Her only defense was to deny, deny, deny . “If you look around, you can see there are only books here, sir.”
    “Stop.” His voice was quiet thunder, reverberating through the room and down to the tips of her toes. His face was stretched taut as if he were restraining great emotion. “No games.”
    “A-all right,” she stammered, attempting to appease him. “Suppose what you say is true. I have this imaginary, alternate business. What exactly am I supposed to help you with?”
    His face relaxed marginally. Instant relief swept through her, but she would be a fool to lower her guard completely. Before she could blink, the man stepped close to her, too close. Danni felt the pulse of his heated skin radiate into the air between them, suddenly warming her. Startled at the sensation, she stepped away, her back pressed tightly up against the counter, his body trapping hers. Her eyes flew up to meet his, their green depths dark and unfathomable.
    Slowly, his head lowered until she felt the stirrings of his breath across the rim of her ear. Her breath froze and her body tensed against the onslaught of his masculinity, held immobilized as if under some spell. The scent of fine liquor wafted towards her. She frowned as his rich baritone rumbled over her senses. “You owe me a wife, little one.”
    Her mouth went dry. Oh, God help me! She knew exactly who this man was—Marcus Bradley, Marquis of Fleetwood.
    What was it society called him…? The Beast.
    And the man she’d deprived of a bride only two nights ago. One of her worst fears had finally come to pass. A disgruntled member of the jilted party had found her out and now demanded revenge.
    Owe him a wife? He couldn’t be asking her to be his bride, could he? He’d not indicated he knew about her fortune. But if he did, was he here to court her? In this manner? No matter what he tried, she would never marry him. To be forever tied to this beast of a man was too much for any woman to bear.
    Determined not to be intimidated or to break eye contact, she gathered her courage and placed her hand on the center of his chest to firmly push him away. The contact seared her palm. She fought the urge to curl her fingers into the soft fabric of his