Beauty and the Beast (Not Quite the Fairy Tale #3) Read Free

hand, she would be a pain in the backside. What the hell was he going to do with a girl here?
    The obvious wasn’t an option. Aiden didn’t take women without their consent. He wouldn’t allow anyone else to do so either. Making her work for him as some sort of underling was an option, but he was already overstaffed.
    He sighed and turned towards their waiting room, but Jerome Clocks unexpectedly caught his arm.
Another strange thing. No one voluntarily touched him, these days.
“Be careful,” his oldest servant warned him gravely. “Something isn’t right. She...”
    While his face remained hard to read, his scent was clear: there was a healthy dose of fear there.
“What?”
“There must be fay in her. Or something. At least, some sort of Gift.”
    Aiden’s entire body became absolutely rigid.
    There had been a time when he might not have taken that particular advice seriously, but he knew better now.
    He’d pissed off a fay descendent once, and he had the face to prove it.
    “Why would you think that?”
    Those with fay blood generally belonged to prestigious lines and what he’d recalled of his research had indicated that the Thorntons had been farmers and merchants for generations.
    “Because she’s… pretty.”
    He said the word tentatively, as though he was trying it for size. Then, satisfied with it, Clocks nodded, adding: “Very much so.”
    Aiden was lost for words. He distinctly recalled the solemn guard shrugging and admitting that Silvia Undine was “nice,” when they’d met the Alenian bombshell; the Eastlean beauties were deemed “alright.” But the farmer girl was very pretty?  
    Great.
    Aiden really didn’t need the agro.
    They walked down to the lobby, and then towards one of the private offices where he received business partners.
    That’s where he met her.
    By everything holy on this land, he was in deep shit.
The warning had been fortunate. Considering the fact that she came as a powerful punch in the guts regardless, it was quite possible that being prepared for her might have saved him from a heart attack.
    There was a woman who could kill with one look; he hadn’t believed they’d existed before this day, but the proof was in front of him. There was a Gorgon. He wondered how many had died at her feet.
Dear goddess, he was growing quite poetic about it.

The woman was standing next to a sleek grand piano when he made it in; her hand rested on the lid, as though she was considering opening it. She was turned towards the window, away from him, but a general aura around her somewhat prepared him for what was to come.
    Her silhouette was picturesque, her hands, delicate. She wasn’t tall, but she appeared to be, because her figure was, in one word, perfect. She proved how cruel she was by wearing skinny jeans; they showcased those lean legs and the curve of that perfect heart-shaped ass.
    Aiden didn’t see much more at first: she wore a jacket and its hood was up, despite the fact that there hadn’t been a drop of rain since April; not to mention that they were inside .
    But then, feeling his presence, she turned towards him.
     
    In this instant, he knew just how strong a man he was, because he didn’t fall to his knees.
He also realized just how powerful she was: she took him in, appraising the lithe, long and muscular body he hadn’t really covered, before settling on his inhumane face – the skeleton wrapped in blue-white flesh he knew to be.
    And nothing. Just nothing. Her eyes weren’t wide, her breathing didn’t change, she didn’t shiver. She looked at him without disgust or fear; it wasn’t a façade, because he couldn’t smell either emanating from her.
    No, he could just smell honey. And freaking cinnamon.
    “Do you play?” he heard himself ask, because by that point, something had to be said, and it wouldn’t be relevant, clever or coherent if he pushed himself to formulate anything beyond three words.
She snorted before speaking. Her voice, thank