Page 13 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

It was strange; Porter Hall had a housekeeper, but the windows still looked unwashed. Maybe Constance was too busy gossiping about people to get a good day’s work in, or maybe this place was so big it was impossible to keep spotless. Or maybe I should just stop assuming shit, mind my own business, and get myself to work.

That’s what I did. I backed from the room before Isobel could lower her e-reader and notice me spying, and I wandered around a bit more, opening odd doors until I found a supply closet, hosting a bucket, sponge, and all-purpose house cleaner, plus a stepladder.

Good enough for me.

When I returned to the room, supplies in tow, I didn’t make a sound, just moseyed past the resting dragon—er, Isobel—as if I had every right to be there. All the while, my heart pounded so hard I was surprised she didn’t hear the chaotic lub-dub as soon as I strolled by.

I made it to the window without being roasted to death by dragon fire. Then I set down the bucket of warm suds and opened the ladder. Didn’t take me long to realize the ladder wouldn’t be tall enough to help me reach the zenith of the window—God, the ceiling in this room was abnormally high for a one-story room—but it would be a start. I climbed to the top rung, bucket in hand, and pulled the soaked sponge out before slopping it across the glass.

By this point, there was no way she could’ve missed me in the room with her, but she’d yet to say anything, so I figured she’d decided to ignore me.

I figured wrong.

“What do you think you’re doing?” she screeched suddenly, nearly making me upset my perch on the ladder because I jumped so hard.

But, damn, what a way to kill a guy: wait until he wasn’t expecting you to talk, then jar him from his work with haughty demands.

Swearing under my breath, I steadied myself then dipped the sponge back into the suds. “I’m washing the windows,” I answered before finally glancing over my shoulder at her. “Sorry, was I bothering you?”

The question was so innocent and friendly it was hard to tell if she knew I wasn’t sorry at all.

She blinked blankly before setting her e-reader down and climbing from the couch. “That’s not how you wash a window. That’s how you wash a car.”

I lifted my brows before glancing at the window where soapy water streaked down the windowpane in little rivers. “There’s a difference?”

Sniffing out her censure, she shook her head. “My God. Have you never washed a window before?”

With a shrug, I admitted, “Now that you mention it, no, I don’t think I have. Unless a car window counts.” Though I spoke the words pleasantly, the challenge in my glance made her eyes narrow when I added, “Have you washed a window before?”

Her eyes narrowed. “Come with me. And bring this…nonsense.”

I had no idea what she had in mind for me, but remaining in her presence was my primary function, so I dutifully climbed off the ladder and refolded it before tucking it under my arm and lifting the soap bucket. When I faced her, ready to go wherever she wished, she blinked at me as if she hadn’t actually expected me to follow her orders so readily.

To show her I hadn’t yet turned into the meek, obedient servant she suspected, I gave her a mocking little half-bow and smirked. “As you wish.”

Huffing irritably, she turned away and strode from the room. I followed, feeling a thrill from ticking her off. Trailing from a leisurely distance, I fell far enough behind that she paused once and turned, waiting for me to catch up.

She glared at my pace when I refused to hurry, but I returned the look with a sunny smile, which only seemed to put her in a worse mood, making mine better.

God, this was fun.

I had no idea why it was so invigorating to rile her, but it really was. I bet it wasn’t often the pampered princess came across someone who didn’t break his neck trying to please her. Her shocked outrage over my indifferent attitude was like a small, personal victory.

We returned to the supply closet, where she made me put the bucket and sponge away. Then she handed me a bottle of Windex and roll of paper towels plus a squeegee, muttering, “Here. Use this instead. And that ladder too.” She pointed to another wall, which finally brought my attention to another, larger ladder I hadn’t noticed before.

“Ah,” I cooed appreciatively. “Much better. Thank you.” I sent her a true smile of gratitude before I realized what I was doing.

But the honest grin seemed to piss her off just fine, so I couldn’t regret it.

I made my way back to the library, new supplies in hand, and this time I led the way. I knew she had to be following me, though, if for no other reason than to make sure I didn’t fuck up again.

“Start high and work your way down,” she instructed as soon as I opened the ladder.

I nearly laughed. Yep, she hadn’t been able to keep herself from bossing me around.

“Whatever you say, princess,” I answered, climbing the rungs.

The growl that rose from behind me made my heart swell with conquest. “My name is Isobel.”

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