The Princess and the Pauper Read Online Free PDF Page A

was alone without a home
or purpose. Wright had said he had his grandfather’s blood and thus
entrepreneurial spirit, but right then, Grey didn’t know what he
was going to do or where he would go.
    He turned down the lamplight and left the
room, heading for the back staircase.
    “ You would leave without
saying goodbye?”
    At the sound of her soft, accusing voice,
his arms weakened and his luggage felt unbearably heavy. He set
both cases on the ground and turned in time to see her step out of
the shadows and into a moonlit beam. Her long, braided hair was
gathered around one shoulder, her arms folded across the front of
her wrapper. She was ready for sleep and had clearly escaped her
chaperone’s clumsy supervision. Standing under the skylight, the
rest of the corridor dark as pitch, she was the only bright spot in
his life—and the reason why he could never say goodbye.
    “ Will I ever see you
again?” she asked.
    “ Do you want me to ring the
front door or back when I come to visit?”
    “ You would be welcomed,” she
returned evasively.
    “ And who would you tell
your husband that I am?”
    “ A friend.”
    “ I’m not your friend,
princess.”
    And she was not his friend—she was
everything to him.
    He picked up his belongings and headed
for the stairs again.
    “ Promise me you’ll play,”
she called after him.
    “ I’m not your servant
anymore. I don’t have to follow your orders.”
    She snorted. “You never followed them
when you were my servant.”
    He stopped. He wanted to laugh. To cry. He
wanted to feel her arms around him. He wanted to return the embrace
this time. He wanted to kiss her. He wanted to take her away with
him and never give her up.
    He wanted to die.
    Grey set down the luggage and crossed the
hall. She looked at him without fear, her brown eyes knowing and
inviting. He stepped into the circle of light, cupped her cheeks
and lowered his mouth to hers.
    She tasted sweeter than he’d
imagined, softer than he’ d dreamed, and his heart pounded so hard in his
chest, the beats echoed in his skull.
    He slipped his fingers behind
her neck and pulled her in for a deeper ki ss. She pressed against him, wrapped
her arms around his waist and cried softly, making him shake as if
with fever. He thought he would lose his balance and pushed her
against the wall, but that wasn’t enough support. He needed a
bed.
    Grey grabbed her hand and pulled her into his
room. He wanted to touch her, taste her with a desire that buried
all his good sense. And when he closed the door and felt her eager
fingers reach for him in the dark, he groaned with pleasure and
gathered her in his arms.
    “ Rees, I . . . I . .
. ”
    “ I want the same, Emily,”
he whispered, breathless.
    He kissed her. Or she kissed him. He
wasn’t sure who was in control. He didn’t care. He only cared about
being with her. About loving her.
    The door opened.
    Light pierced the room and blinded Grey to
the fist barreling toward his face. Knuckles plowed into his lips
and cheek, knocking him backward and onto the floor. He hit the
ground hard, dazed, blood spilling from his mouth.
    Emily screamed, “Papa, no!”
    “ You son of a bitch!”
roared Wright. “I’ll kill you!”
    Fists slammed down on his chest, breaking
ribs. Grey rolled to the side to avoid the deadly blows and booted
Wright in the shin until the man staggered back,
unbalanced.
    “ I didn’t hurt her.” Grey sputtered, gasping
for air. “I love her! And she loves me.”
    Wright regained his balance and turned
his murderous eyes on his daughter. “Is that true?”
    Cradling his broken
bones, Grey
pulled himself up against the wall. He saw the look of horror on
Emily’s face, the whites of her eyes red and glassy with tears. And
then he saw her fuddled chaperone, spectacles askew, step nearer
with the lamplight. He realized the old bird must have woken from
her drunken sleep to find her charge missing and fetched Wright.
And Grey dearly wished she hadn’t