The Glass Shoe

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The Glass Shoe Page 6

by Kay Hooper


  He laughed suddenly. “I’m sorry, you can’t be interested in all this.”

  She looked at him and felt trapped. “I—I find it very interesting. I minored in electrical engineering in college.”

  “What was your major?”

  “Business administration.”

  “So you ended up managing guest ranches?”

  Amanda hesitated. “I’m just here to oversee the renovation and decorating.”

  “And after that? Do you live in Wyoming?”

  She felt as if she were skating on very thin ice. “No. As a matter of fact, I live in Boston. The owner of this place lives there; I’d done some work for him in Vermont, and he wanted me for this job.”

  “You live in Boston? Isn’t it odd that we both had to come way out here to meet?”

  “Yes,” Amanda said. “Very odd.”

  Chapter 4

  “It’s not the first time that’s happened to me,” Ryder said consideringly. “I mean, meeting someone from Boston when we were both hundreds or thousands of miles away.”

  Amanda smiled. “I know, it’s happened to me, too. I once met a neighbor of mine for the first time in London. And we’d lived near each other for years.”

  As if the phrase “near each other” had reminded Ryder of the distance between the two of them, he slid closer suddenly and lifted the catalogues from her lap. “Choosing furniture?” he asked, leafing through the topmost brochure quickly.

  “Just making a few preliminary decisions,” she replied, trying not to think of how close he was. But he was close, and all her senses were reacting to him. She was so involved in trying to ignore her senses that she was just a fraction too late in reacting when he leaned forward to drop the catalogues onto the coffee table and then returned to her side.

  It all happened very quickly, she realized somewhat dazedly. Without a wasted motion Ryder had lifted her legs across his lap, keeping one arm over her thighs and slipping the other around her shoulders. She was half lying in the corner of the couch, conscious of his hard thighs beneath hers and his powerful arms holding her prisoner.

  Trapped, she felt unnervingly helpless.

  Her hands had lifted instinctively to his chest, braced to hold him off. But Ryder made no attempt to use force. Instead, he smiled down at her, a curiously apologetic smile that still managed to hold a great deal of masculine triumph.

  “I couldn’t stand it anymore,” he explained softly.

  Since she didn’t have to hold him off, Amanda realized that her fingers were moving just a little of their own volition, probing through his thick sweater to find the hard flesh beneath. She tried to make them stop, but the silent command couldn’t seem to reach that far.

  “You’re—moving too fast,” she managed to protest in a strained voice.

  “Am I?” He shook his head slightly. “I don’t think so. I’ve got the feeling if I give you too much time to think, you’ll run away from me.”

  “That’s ridiculous. I’m a grown woman. I don’t—I don’t run away from men.”

  “I’m glad to hear it.” His voice was deepening, growing a little rough. “Do you know there are secrets in your eyes?”

  “What?” She was startled, uneasy.

  The arm around her shoulders shifted so that his fingers tangled in her thick hair, holding her head firmly. “No, don’t look away. Amanda?”

  Warily she met his gaze again, wondering what on earth was happening to her strength of will. He seemed to have the knack of eroding it.

  “Amazing eyes,” he murmured, his own probing almost unconsciously. “So green. Even now, in an almost dark room, they’re green. It isn’t fair for you to have eyes so green.”

  The long fingers moving in her hair were unexpectedly pleasurable; she could feel her ability to think clearly slipping away, dissipating like smoke in the wind. All the things she knew she should tell him were locked inside her somewhere, and she couldn’t find them, couldn’t shape the words. She could only look at him and wonder on some distant level of herself what was happening to her.

  “Damn those eyes,” he said on a long breath, then lowered his head until his mouth touched hers.

  Amanda felt a hot shiver of pure need ripple through her body at the first touch of his lips. Her mouth opened to him instantly, and she felt as well as heard the strange, muted sound in the back of her throat.

  He kissed her with utter absorption, as if there were nothing in the world except the two of them and this urgent desire rising inexorably between them. His mouth was hard, yet it seduced rather than demanded, beguiled rather than forced.

  She was half conscious of her arms sliding up around his neck, of her fingers twining in the thick silk of his dark hair. Never in her life had she felt anything like the need inside her; it was shattering in its intensity, and she could no more fight it than she could stop breathing. When his lips finally left hers she murmured a husky protest, not even aware of doing so.

  “Amanda,” he said tautly as his mouth moved slowly down over the warm flesh of her throat.

  Hearing her name from him surprised her somehow, and she understood dimly that it was because her identity was overwhelmed by this passion between them. She could recall reading novels where the women had “lost themselves” in passion, and because she herself had never caught fire, she’d been able to sneer inwardly at those weaklings. But now she understood—and it frightened her.

  He made her surrender to feelings she couldn’t control. The need he aroused in her swamped her willpower, shattered reason until she was defenseless with want.

  The realization was a shock, and if it wasn’t strong enough to fully penetrate the hot veils of passion, at least it allowed her a shaken protest.

  “Ryder…it’s too fast…please…”

  He lifted his head slowly, gazing down at her with hot eyes. His face was hard, the features masklike with intensity. “I want you,” he said softly, roughly.

  Amanda could feel her entire throbbing body weaken. She fought desperately for control. “It’s too soon,” she whispered. “We hardly know each other. Ryder—”

  “Do you think that matters?” His voice was raspy. “I knew when you fell off that damned ladder and I caught you.”

  “I didn’t know,” she protested. “I still don’t. I won’t just tumble into bed with a stranger, dammit!”

  Ryder lowered his head and captured her mouth again. And this time there was force, intensity; this time there was a stark assurance. He took her mouth as if there were no question it belonged to him, that she belonged to him.

  Amanda heard that strange sound escape again, that muted sound of unthinking pleasure. She felt as if she were sinking down into something hot and dark, being pulled irresistibly by some power beyond her understanding.

  He raised his head slowly, staring down at her. She looked as shaken as he felt, as bewildered. Her lovely face was a little pale, her beautiful green eyes dazed and enormous, her lips swollen and reddened from his kisses. He wanted to lift her in his arms and carry her upstairs, to find a room with a bed and lock the door and shut out the world.

  He had never felt desire like this, not so all-consuming. He was conscious of a stunning, gut-wrenching need to bury himself in her, to take her so utterly and completely that even the secrets in her eyes would be his.

  His own stark need shook him, and because he was a man who had marked out the paths of his life with unerring certainty, this unexpected detour made him abruptly wary. He saw the same uneasy guardedness stirring in her eyes, and even though some part of him hated that look, another part understood.

  “All right,” he said, surprised by the hoarse sound of his own voice. “I’ll try to slow down.”

  He drew away from her, allowing her to sit up again beside him. The voice of caution in his head told him to back off emotionally as well as physically, but he couldn’t help adding, “Don’t make me wait too long.”

  A spark of green fire showed in her eyes, and she sen
t him a look that was an odd mixture of defiance and vulnerability. “Don’t be so sure of yourself!” she snapped with only the slightest tremor in her voice.

  Ryder stood up and pulled her to her feet, then lifted one hand to turn her face up firmly. “Shouldn’t I be?” he asked her very softly.

  “Damn you,” she whispered, her gaze falling before the certainty in his eyes. “You’re a stranger—”

  “No, I’m not. You know me, Amanda. And I know you. It doesn’t matter that we met hours ago.”

  “Lust at first sight,” she said jerkily with an attempt at scorn.

  “Call it anything you like. It’s real, we both know that. I want you. And you want me.”

  She bit her bottom lip. “I’m old enough to know that what I may want isn’t always good for me.”

  He bent his head and kissed her, keeping it light, even though the strain of holding back seemed as if it might tear him in half. “I’ll be good for you,” he promised.

  Amanda didn’t reply to that. There didn’t seem to be anything she could say.

  He didn’t seem to expect anything. “I’ll walk you to your room,” he said.

  She watched him bend to pick up the catalogues, then walked beside him silently as they went upstairs. Nemo went with them, his presence as unobtrusive as it could be for a dog of his size.

  Ryder left her at her door with a casual good night.

  Amanda was more confused than ever. She piled the catalogues on her nightstand and sat down on the bed, looking around the room with eyes that didn’t really see it.

  “What do I do now, dog?” she murmured to Nemo.

  From his position on a faded rug near the foot of her bed, the big dog thumped his tail against the floor and gazed at her with his mild, startled eyes.

  “That’s a lot of help,” she told him.

  She was an honest woman by nature, and her impulse was to tell Ryder who she was. She had meant to do just that once she’d discovered why he was here. But somehow the words got lost before she could say them.

  This situation was different from any she’d had to deal with. For the first time in her adult life she was reasonably sure that a man was interested in her for herself, that he was attracted to her and wanted her because her eyes were green or her hair was red, or because of the way she looked in jeans. That he was drawn to her because of one or more of the many mysterious reasons that drew a man to a woman.

  It wasn’t her name or family, or the healthy status of her bank account.

  Yet that same man was here for the purpose of building his company up to compete with hers.

  She didn’t know what to do. Tell him the truth? Explain that her being here was just a coincidence? She doubted he’d believe her. She didn’t believe it herself.

  Amanda rose and went to her dresser, opening the top drawer and gazing down at what she had discovered in her suitcase when she’d finished unpacking last night.

  The glass shoe.

  Samantha must have put it there, Amanda had realized. Another one of her gentle reminders. But she couldn’t—surely she couldn’t—have had anything to do with sending Ryder here? No, that was just ridiculous. Ryder had come here to meet with a man about a business matter.

  Amanda wanted to forget about the Cinderella masquerade, particularly since Ryder had clearly forgotten all about it. But she couldn’t. That had been the first deceit, no matter how innocent; not telling Ryder who she was now was the second deceit.

  She thought he might well forgive the first because it had been innocent. But what would he think if she told him now that she was a Wilderman and controlled Wilderman Electronics?

  “Why can’t it be as simple as a fairy tale?” she murmured aloud.

  It wasn’t until she was in bed sometime later that Amanda realized something. Hostility hadn’t worked. Guardedness hadn’t worked. But if she told Ryder who she really was, she had little doubt that his interest in her as a woman would vanish like smoke.

  How ironic. The first man interested in her for herself alone could well be the first man to be more angry than impressed by who she was.

  The realization should have comforted her. After all, revealing her true identity would resolve the dilemma. She wouldn’t have to be wary of being hurt again. She wouldn’t have to guard her tongue or examine every word before she spoke. She could be herself again.

  It was a long time before she fell asleep.

  —

  “Amanda, Jeff Haynes just called me.”

  She kept her gaze fixed on the landing above, wary of having someone—especially a particular someone—overhear her conversation with her uncle. Since he was an early riser, she hadn’t hesitated to call him at virtually the crack of dawn. “And he told you that a man named Cyrus Fortune had bought the rights to Dunbar’s patent?”

  There was a long silence, and then Edward Wilderman said somewhat dryly, “So you’ve heard.”

  “Yes. What did Jeff say about it?” Jeffrey Haynes was the CEO of Wilderman Electronics, and a good friend of Edward’s. He was also Amanda’s godfather.

  “Well, Dunbar’s on the verge of signing an employment agreement but he says the patent’s out of reach.”

  Amanda hesitated, then slowly asked, “Uncle Edward, did you know that Ryder Foxx would be here?”

  After a hesitation of his own, her uncle said, “Samantha was planning something, but I gather it fell through; she swears it isn’t her doing. He’s there to meet with Cyrus Fortune?”

  “Yes.”

  Edward sighed. “When I heard Fortune’s name, I remembered he was one of the guests. But Amanda, Ryder Foxx’s name wasn’t on the list. Cyrus Fortune made reservations for himself—and a guest, unnamed. He was asked to notify the ranch directly, to give Penny the guest’s name and both arrival times.”

  Amanda drew a breath. “Could Fortune have planned so far in advance? The reservations were made months ago. How could he have been so sure of getting the patent from Dunbar?”

  “He couldn’t have been,” Edward said immediately. “The system wasn’t even ready then. It has to be a fluke, Amanda. When Fortune made the reservations, we didn’t own the ranch. He got the rights to the patent, then invited Ryder Foxx to be his guest and talk about it.”

  “All right, so it’s a fluke. But what now? I can’t make Fortune an offer for the patent, Uncle Edward. I just can’t.”

  “Why not? You’re empowered—”

  “That isn’t it. Look, Cyrus Fortune knows you own the ranch because your office communicated with him about the renovations. Right?”

  “Right.”

  “But Ryder Foxx doesn’t know. The ranch is officially owned by a subsidiary based in Texas, the same one that owns the ranch down there. The Wilderman name isn’t even connected to this place. I mean, granted, Ryder could have found out easily enough, but why would he? He believes he’s just here to meet a man and talk about a business deal.”

  “So?” Edward asked.

  “So Cyrus Fortune had to know that you’d know where he was as soon as the news broke about the patent. And since you own this place, he wouldn’t doubt that you—or I—would send someone out here to make him an offer. It may have started out as a fluke, but what if Fortune’s planning to take advantage of the situation?”

  “You mean play you and Ryder Foxx against each other?”

  “Why not? Maybe he’s interested in a little healthy competition. And how do you suppose Ryder will feel when he discovers he’s on Wilderman property with the owner of Wilderman Electronics here as well?”

  “Outgunned,” Edward said dryly.

  “And I’m using Mother’s name,” Amanda said. “It looks so damned deceitful.”

  “It’s just a series of flukes, Amanda. That we bought the ranch, that I sent you out there, and that you tend to use your mother’s name.”

  “In Ryder’s place, would you believe that?”

  After a moment he said, “Probably not.”

  “Neither wo
uld I.”

  “Look, honey, the man understands competition. I realize the patent could mean expansion for him, but—”

  “It would mean the same thing for us. But Uncle Edward, it’s Ryder’s chance to establish his company as an important presence in the electronics industry.”

  “Amanda, are you seriously saying that you plan to stand by without lifting a finger and watch Ryder Foxx acquire the rights to a system that would put his company at least five years ahead of your own?”

  Softly she said, “Wilderman could play catch-up for five years with no major damage. I don’t think Foxxfire could.”

  His own voice softened, Edward said, “That’s not a very businesslike decision, honey.”

  “I know.”

  “Are you going to tell him who you are?”

  She laughed a bit shakily. “What choice do I have? Ten to one Cyrus Fortune will know, and I can’t see him keeping a piece of information like that to himself. He’s supposed to arrive on Friday, so I have today and tomorrow. I’d rather that Ryder find out from me. But I just don’t know how to tell him.”

  “I get the feeling that Sam’s matchmaking struck a few sparks this time. Am I right?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Maybe it does matter. Amanda, I’ve met Ryder Foxx. He’s ambitious, even ruthless to a certain extent. But he’s honest, and he fights fair. He’s had chances to marry money if he wanted to take the easy way. But he didn’t. I don’t believe he ever would. And I’ll tell you something else I don’t believe he’ll do.”

  “What?”

  “I don’t believe he’ll take the easy way this time. Once he knows who you are, I think he’ll expect you to go after those rights just as hard as he.”

  Amanda put a great deal of faith in her uncle’s judgments about people; he was seldom off on his perceptions and intuitions. And her own instincts had been telling her the same things about Ryder. Still, she had to protest. “But he told me he wanted to nail the deal down before the competition could…could sneak in and outbid him.”

  “Logical. But the competition’s there, honey. He’s used to fighting for what he wants. He isn’t the kind of man who likes winning for its own sake.”

 

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