Wickedly Charming by Kristine Grayson Read Free Book Online Page B

Kingdoms could hold him, partly because he was a very wealthy man, and partly because he was rumored to be a king’s son—another Charming gone wrong, probably.
    Badly, horribly, awfully wrong.
    She sighed. She’d have to deal with him immediately. She couldn’t let him inside the book fair. All the attention would be on him, and not on her cause.
    As she walked up, she pulled one of the fairies aside. The fairy, blond and pale just like Disney’s Tinker Bell, had gossamer wings and the most wicked tongue Mellie had heard on anyone, bar none.
    The fairy kept her name secret like all fairies did, but she was known as Cantankerous Belle—Tanker Belle for short.
    â€œI know, I know,” Tanker Belle said in her deep, gruff voice. She sounded like a full-size human chain-smoker—Bette Davis combined with James Earl Jones. “The minute I saw him, I knew you’d tap us.”
    â€œSorry,” Mellie said.
    Tanker Belle shrugged. “What this time? Wrap him in some glamour and get him off the property?”
    â€œI’d say yes, except this is a three-day affair.”
    â€œThere’s an upscale rehab center on the coast,” Rumpelstiltskin said. He hadn’t moved from his perch against the van. “I have his credit card. He can clearly afford it.”
    Mellie didn’t want to know how Rumpelstiltskin had gotten Bluebeard’s credit card, but she was grateful.
    â€œA twenty-eight-day program?” she asked.
    He nodded.
    â€œHas he been drinking?” she asked.
    â€œYou want to go sniff him? He’s either been sleeping in booze-soaked linens or he’s been soaking it up himself.” Tanker Belle hovered in front of Mellie like a giant hummingbird.
    â€œOkay, then,” Mellie said. “Get the address from Stilt over there.”
    â€œAnd the credit card,” one of the other fairies said. “Last time, he didn’t fork it over, and I paid.”
    She shook a tiny fist at Rumpelstiltskin.
    â€œYou still owe me,” she said.
    â€œI’ll pay up,” he said. “You just say when and how.”
    Then he grinned, and to Mellie’s surprise, the fairy grinned back. Mellie shook her head, not fully comprehending the interaction—or, to be more accurate—not wanting to.
    She made her way through the crowd of archetypes, heading for the signs. She needed to get the group organized. And she wanted to avoid Blue.
    But that wasn’t in the cards.
    Tanker Belle was right—he smelled like he’d been bathing in whiskey. Whiskey and Aqua Velva. And vomit.
    Not the best combination on a good day. And this was not—by any stretch of the imagination—a good day.
    â€œI wanna help out,” Blue said.
    He had a lovely voice. Musical, deep, with enough of an accent to make him seem exotic. Or at least, he would seem exotic, if she hadn’t heard it all before.
    â€œYou’ll help out by going with Tanker Belle and the girls,” Mellie said.
    â€œAh, Mel.” Blue put his meaty fist on her shoulder. “I’m terribly misunderstood. I can talk to the press. I took classes in media relations at UCLA.”
    Somehow that didn’t surprise her. She slipped out of his grasp and resisted the urge to wipe off her shoulder.
    â€œBlue, you’re not sober,” she said. “Being sober is one of my rules, remember?”
    He rolled those pretty blue eyes. “Hon, I don’t do rules, except my own.”
    â€œWhich is another reason I don’t want you here,” she said.
    He leaned closer to her. A few of the woodland creatures gasped in disgust. It took all of Mellie’s strength not to do the same.
    â€œEverybody’s got a story,” he said. “You’ve never asked mine.”
    â€œI saw the heads,” Mellie snapped. “I knew some of those girls.”
    He frowned and backed away, just like she knew he would. She’d said that to him five years