Undone by the Star Read Online Free PDF Page B

regiment, and lined up on shelves at the back of the stall. She surprised herself, happily identifying uniforms and time periods: Napoleonic, Victorian, the American Civil War, World Wars I and II. No wonder Marc found them so fascinating; they were a microcosm of history.
    “I’ve got just what you’re asking about,” the vendor, a huge bald man who looked more like a bouncer than an antiques expert, said loudly reaching into a drawer and pulling out a small box. The figure nestled within was about the size of Alex’s baby finger.
    “Oh, wow,” Marc pushed back the hood of his sweatshirt, took off his dark glasses and turned to her. “Alex, look at this!”
    It happened in an instant. A middle-aged woman in the crush behind them took one look at Marc and squealed, “ Marc Daniels! I can’t believe it! It’s Marc Daniels!”
    She whipped out her phone and the camera flashed.
    And then suddenly, guerrilla photographers were popping up everywhere. First one, then another and another.
    Marc held up his hand to shield them, but the non-stop flash of multiple cameras was overwhelming. “Just doing a little shopping here!” Marc called out. He had slipped into star mode, Alex realized, diverting the fans with a heart-stopping grin, but all that seemed to do was galvanize the celebrity-obsessed crowd even further.
    Alex watched in horror as regular, everyday tourists surged toward them like a tidal way until the tiny aisle was packed so tightly, she could scarcely breathe. The rumble had become a roar. Alex glanced at Marc, but he didn’t seem concerned. She certainly was. He was her responsibility and she was bloody well going to get them out of there!
    Acting quickly, Alex pulled out her phone and pressed the number code for The Sadler’s private fleet.
    “Frank!” she shouted into the phone. The jostling and screeching increased in volume. She was caught up in the crush of bodies as she hunted frantically for a way through the crowd. “Send a car for us. Right. Westbourne Grove...I’m sure that’s the one….”
    Alex pocketed her phone, jabbed a woman with her elbow and made her way back to Marc, grabbing him by the arm. “We have to go!”
    “Wait!” He shook her off, pulled a wad of cash from the pocket of his jeans and thrust it at the dealer. Scooping up his prize, Marc turned to leave, but the seething mass was now pushing bits of paper and pens in his face and clamouring for his autograph.
    The dealer had obviously had enough. He barrelled his way to the front of his stall making a barrier between Marc, Alex and the crowd.
    “Give a customer a break!” he bellowed. “Go on, all of you! Show’s over!”
    “Now, Marc!” Alex hissed in his ear. “We have to go now !”
    She clamped her hand around his and yanked him in the opposite direction, taking them deeper into the warren of stalls. She was aiming for the back corner of the building where the dealers dumped their unsalable odds and ends. “Through here,” she urged Marc. They slipped past a stack of packing crates and tore down the passageway.
    Alex was so relieved to see the exit she slammed against the crossbar. They bolted through the door and onto the pavement just as their driver raced up in a silver sedan. Marc dove into the back, and Alex scrambled in after him.
    As they sped away, Alex looked out the back window to see Marc’s fans literally chasing after the car, still waving their scraps of paper and snapping photos.
    She turned to glare at Marc. “How do you stand it?” she demanded.
    “It comes with the territory.” He shrugged, but his rigid jawline told a different story.
    “That’s it?” Alex challenged. “That’s all you’ve got to say!”
    “No, it is not all I have to say.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.
    Alex hunched a shoulder and turned her back on him, staring out the window at the London scene they wove through the Saturday traffic towards The Sadler. “Take us through the mews entrance, please,