Page 25 of Monster Among the Roses (Fairy Tale Quartet 1)

Mentally swatting that nasty realization away in my head, I studied the man, dissecting him. He looked rich, friendly, clean, and pretty much too fucking perfect to be true. I decided I didn’t like him. All that shine had to be fake or hiding something ugly.

“When did you get here?” Isobel asked, her blue eyes glossy and bright with a special glow just for him, the lucky bastard.

He grinned, his teeth way too white, and way too straight. “Just now. I thought I’d come see you before I got stuck in some long, boring meeting with the old man.” Then he sighed dramatically, making Isobel laugh.

Holy shit, she’d just laughed, truly honestly laughed. How in the world had this douche gotten her to laugh? It wasn’t right. Totally wasn’t fair.

I pretty much had to hate him now.

Who was he?

Was he her boyfriend?

Her dad made her out to be so lonely and solitary with no one to talk to, yet Mr. Perfect here seemed to be doing just fine making her smile and laugh.

My jealousy burned hotter.

As if feeling my glare beaded in on him, Prince Charming glanced my way, only for his glowing smile to pause with a hint of shock. Instantly, he turned back to Isobel and grasped her shoulders.

“Don’t freak out,” he told her in a steady voice as if he’d just spotted a spider in her hair and needed her to remain calm so he could remove it, “but there’s a guy in your library.”

Immediately, Isobel spun toward me as if remembering I still existed.

Yeah, remember me? The man building your bookshelves.

Her cheeks looked flushed, but I wasn’t sure if that was from embarrassment over forgetting about me or excitement from his arrival.

“Oh,” she said, making me feel even smaller because she really had forgotten about me. “He’s here to build bookshelves.”

Sure, yeah, tell your boyfriend that’s all I’m here for, I wanted to snarl, before it struck me that building her bookshelves really was the only reason I was in her library. I wasn’t here because we were friends or because she actually wanted to spend time with me. I was only providing her with a service for her precious books.

Acid slithered around the jealousy bubbling in my stomach, while the pretty, shiny man perked to attention at the mention of bookshelves.

“Really?” he asked, intrigued. Slipping off his shades and tucking them into his front pocket, he strolled toward me and eyed the ladder I was so lamely holding. “What a good idea. I’d started to worry all those books you were collecting were going to start overflowing out into the hall one of these days and overtake the whole house.”

“Hey.” Isobel, who’d followed him to me like a faithful pet, drilled a reprimanding finger into his side. “If you’re so worried about the number of books I collect, then why do you always bring me a new one every time you visit?”

With a grin in her direction, he winked. “Oh right, thanks for reminding me… Here you go.” He pulled a miniature book from his pocket and tossed it her way.

She fumbled a moment before catching it. Then she took in the cover and gasped. After she flipped it open to the title page, she gasped again. “Oh my God, this is a first edition fairy tale book. I’ve been looking for one of these forever. Where did you find it?”

“Oh…” After breathing on his knuckles, the man buffed them

against his shoulder in accomplishment. “I have my sources.”

“Thank you.” Pressing the tiny book to her chest, Isobel sent him a look full of adoration and complete devotion.

I thought I might puke.

He nodded, looking similarly taken with her before returning his curious gaze to me.

“So…” When he said nothing more, merely examined me as if I were an artifact in a museum, I self-consciously stuck out a hand.

“Shaw Hollander.” I meant to add nice to meet you, but that part stuck in my throat.

He nodded and shook with me. “Ezra Nash.”

“Oh!” I blurted. “You’re the brother.”

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