Seducing Cinderella

by Gina L. Maxwell

  She released him, taking a seat on the swivel stool in front of the desk while tucking loose strands of hair behind her ear. “I can’t believe it’s you. Wait, why does my chart say Randy Johnson?”

  Reid chuckled at the ridiculous name he used for anonymity. “It’s an alias.” Wanting to erase the pained look from whatever had happened before he arrived, he gave her a wicked smile and added, “And sometimes a state of being.”

  Her brows gathered together for the few seconds it took to sink in, then her cheeks flushed with color and her eyes grew wide. “Reid!”

  He couldn’t have stopped his laugh if he wanted to. The shocked look on her face was totally worth it. “Come on, Lu-Lu, you can’t still be that innocent after all these years.”

  “My innocence or lack thereof is none of your business, Andrews. And be forewarned: if anyone hears you call me one of those ridiculous nicknames, I’ll stab you in the jugular with my pen.”

  He held up his hands in mock surrender. “Fair enough, Lubert.” She rolled her eyes, but he interrupted her before she could get a good mad on. “Speaking of names, what’s up with Lucinda Miller? I don’t see a ring. You in the witness protection plan or something?”

  She averted her eyes, suddenly finding that her name tag needed repinning. “No. I was married briefly in college. Jackson probably didn’t tell you about it because we eloped and it didn’t last very long.” She cleared her throat and smiled at him, but it barely reached her cheeks, much less her eyes. “You know how it is. Capricious youth and all that. I just never bothered to change my name back. But at least I still have the same initials, right?”

  Her attempt at disguising her true feelings reminded him of what he’d walked in on. Something or someone had hurt her, and it instantly called on his protective instincts. After all, Lucie wasn’t just any woman. He’d grown up with her trailing after him and her brother, Jackson Maris. And since Jax, also a UFC fighter, was in Hawaii with his training camp and couldn’t help make things right for his little sister, Reid would gladly step in.

  “Why were you crying, Lu?”

  “Oh, that?” She waved a hand dismissively. “Nothing. I have terrible seasonal allergies and sometimes they get so bad I sound like a blubbering, sniveling mess, that’s all.”

  He scoffed. “This is why Jax and I never let you tag along on our more devious ‘misadventures.’ You’re a terrible liar and wouldn’t have lasted five seconds under parental interrogation.”

  She stood, placing her hands on her hips. “Well according to your trainer, you’re a terrible patient, so I guess we both have our faults. Now, unless you want to waste your entire session on pointless chatter, I suggest you let me assess your injury.”

  Reid recognized a brick wall when he ran into one. She wasn’t going to talk about it…yet. One way or another he’d get it out of her. “Fine. Assess away, Luey.” Reaching between his shoulder blades with his left arm, he pulled his T-shirt off over his head, taking care not to jostle his right arm too much. He tossed the shirt onto the chair in the corner.

  “How much PT have you had since the operation?”

  “I don’t know, the usual amount, I guess. A session a day or so. But it wasn’t enough so I was doing some extra training on the side.”

  She paused and arched a brow at him. “In other words, you were overdoing it, which is counterproductive to your recovery.”

  “‘Overdoing it’ is such a subjective term.”

  “No, it’s not, Reid. Anything more than what your doctor or therapist instructs is overdoing it. If I’m going to help you, you need to do exactly as I say. If you can manage that, I’ll have you as good as new in about four months.”

  “What? Didn’t Butch tell you about my rematch in two months? I need to fight on that card, Luce. Diaz has my belt, and I’m taking it back.”

  Lucie shook her head. “Reid that’s insane. Even if I devoted the majority of my time to you, I can’t guarantee you’ll be ready to fight that soon.”

  “Bullshit. You have to say that as a professional, but take into account who your patient is. I’m not like the other people you work on. I’m not your Average Joe trying to eventually get back to normal. I’m a highly trained athlete who’s had to recover from more injuries in the last fifteen years than a hundred Average Joes put together.”

  She sighed. “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here, first, okay, hotshot? Sit.”

  Reid hopped onto the table and tried not to tense up at the idea of having his arm manipulated. He had a high tolerance for pain, but that didn’t mean her exam wouldn’t be enough to set his teeth on edge.

  “Extend your arm to the side and try to keep it there as I push it down.” He lasted only a few seconds before he released the pose with a muttered curse. She pretended not to notice and put him through a couple more strength tests where he managed to keep his swearing rants inside his head. Yay him.

  “Okay, last one, Reid. Place your hand in front of your stomach and try to hold it there as I pull it away from your body.”

  Clenching his jaw and his left fist he tried thinking of something other than the sickening pain shooting from his shoulder. But as bad as the pain was, the fact that he was so weak and couldn’t hide it was much worse.

  “All right, you can relax now.” She made some notes in his file, then turned back and asked, “On a pain scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst pain you can imagine, how are you feeling at the moment?”

  “A four. Maybe even a three.”

  She arched her brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Spare me the macho shit, Andrews. I’m not here to challenge your virility. If you want me to do my job, then you have to be one hundred percent honest with me.”

  He pinned her with a glare that made men twice her size reconsider stepping into the octagon with him. Lucie didn’t even flinch. He would’ve commended her for it had he not been so aggravated with the whole situation. “Fine. A six,” he grumbled. “But some days are better than others.”

  “Don’t worry, that’s normal. Now lay facedown on the table. I want to do a couple more things.”

  “You got awfully bossy in your old age, you know that?” He was a tad disappointed she didn’t rise to the bait, but offered a sarcastic Mm-hmm instead as he arranged his body on the table. With his left arm up to cradle the side of his face, he let his eyes close as she began to work on him.

  Her delicate fingertips probed the muscles around his shoulder. He had no idea what she was looking for, but he hoped she searched for a while. Her touch felt so much better than how he was usually handled. Of course Scotty’s hands weren’t as soft, but it was more than that. It was the technique she used; like he wasn’t just a fighter made of hardened muscle that could handle rough, prodding fingers, but rather a man who’d asked for a gentle massage after a long day.

  He heard a soft sniffle, and it set his mind to wondering what had upset her so much. Growing up he’d practically been Lucie’s second older brother, and it bothered him to know something was wrong.

  Whatever it was, she was doing her best to avoid—“Ah, shit!”

  “Sorry.”

  “Yeah, right,” he said wryly. “That was probably payback for using your floppy bunny as a lawn-dart target.”

  He couldn’t see her face, but he heard the smile when she spoke. “I forgot all about that. Jackson got grounded for three days and my mom had to sew all the little holes together. She told me he was a war hero who was going through surgery to get patched up before receiving a medal from the president.”

  “Your mom was always good for a story. Jax and I counted on her to give us all our background information for our pretend missions as kids.”

  “Mom was something special all right. I still miss her bedtime stories.”

  Lucie’s parents had died in a car accident the summer after he and Jackson graduated high school and she was just thirteen. Jackson chose to raise Lucie instead of pawning her off on another relative, which is w
hy he wasn’t as far in his MMA career as Reid. It was an honorable thing, and it was obvious he’d done a damn fine job, too.

  Just then it hit him. “It’s a guy, isn’t it?”

  Her hands stilled for only a moment, but it was long enough to give him the answer he was looking for. “Is it tender when I press here?”

  Like bad heartburn, an unfamiliar lividity rose up for the general male population until he could aim it at the one who deserved it. Pushing up with his left arm he swung his body around to face her.

  “What are you doing? I’m not done.”

  “You are until you tell me who he is and what the hell he did,” he growled.

  “Reid—”

  “Quid pro quo, Lu. You tell me who made you cry and why, and I promise to not find out on my own, hunt him down, and kick his teeth down his throat for putting that look on your face.”

  He almost regretted throwing down the harsh threat when her face blanched, but if that was the only way he could get her to open up, then so be it. “Here, hop up on the table. We’ll switch places,” he said as he stood. When she opened her mouth to brook an argument he narrowed his gaze to show her he wasn’t kidding. With a resigned sigh she did as he wanted, albeit not happily.

  “There, now you’re the patient.” Despite the pain it caused in his shoulder, he braced his hands on either side of her hips, preventing an escape should she decide it was the better alternative. “So, Miss Miller,” he said looking into her soft gray eyes, “tell me where it hurts.”

  …

  Lucie still couldn’t believe Reid was in her therapy room. When they were younger she’d trailed after her older brother just to be in his best friend’s presence. But since Reid had always treated her like a big brother would, much to her young heart’s dismay, she’d always looked up to both him and Jackson.

  Now she was having a hard time looking away from him.

  He’d always been toned in high school, but this was ridiculous. The man redefined Michelangelo’s idea of perfection, making the Statue of David look like a flabby wuss. His dark blond hair was cut close to his head and brushed forward and to the center, creating the tiniest of faux-hawks, and giving his model-perfect good looks a slight edge. Then there were the tattoos…good Lord, the tattoos.

  Black tribal designs wove an intricate pattern around his upper right arm, over his shoulder and pectoral muscle, and snaked midway up the right side of his neck. Down the right side of his ribcage was the phrase Fight To Win in script letters, ending at the cut muscle that slashed diagonally to his—

  “Lu?”

  She met his discerning hazel eyes. “Hmm?”

  “You gonna start talking or do I have to revert to tickle torture?”

  Nice, Lucie, real smooth. Get a grip, would you? It’s just Reid.

  She rolled her eyes and glanced away hoping he wouldn’t notice the tears she barely managed to hold at bay. She smiled, needing to keep the conversation light. Needing him to not grill her about what happened. “I’m not eight years old anymore, Reid. Pull a stunt like that I’ll slap you with a sexual harassment suit.”

  Gently grasping her chin he tipped her head back to meet his gaze, and with the single use of her name, “Lucie…” the floodgates cracked to let the first tears stream down.

  “God, this is so stupid. Really, it’s nothing,” she said, swiping at the tears angrily with her fingers.

  “When a man makes a woman cry, it’s not nothing.”

  “He didn’t mean to; he doesn’t even know he did. It’s just…” She took a deep breath and released a shaky exhale. “I’ve been in love with him for years and he’s never noticed me. Not like that anyway. Just before you showed up, he asked me for my best friend’s number. He wants to take her to the hospital charity ball.”

  “Will she go?”

  “No, Vanessa would never do that to me. It hurts to know he’d seen her one time and ever since then he’s wanted to ask her out. We’ve spent countless hours working together, but he just doesn’t see me.”

  “Then he’s obviously a blind asshole.”

  Lucie snorted and shook her head. “You don’t know Stephen. The man has more charm in his pinky than half of Reno. He’s an amazing orthopedic surgeon who always goes the extra mile for his patients. He’s smart, successful, and incredibly handsome. We’re so compatible. I know I could make him happy if he would just give me a chance.”

  “So if he’s too dense to make a move, why haven’t you?”

  Heat immediately flooded her cheeks, and she lowered her gaze to inspect her intertwined fingers in her lap. “I can’t. I wouldn’t know what to say. And even if I did, and he by some miracle said yes, I…”

  “You what?”

  “I wouldn’t know what to do,” she whispered.

  “Do?” He tried to think what she could mean, but came up empty. Unless…“Lucie, you’ve dated since your divorce, right?”

  “This is stupid, Reid, let me down.”

  He didn’t budge. “You’ve got to be kidding me. No boyfriends?”

  “I have to tell you, Andrews, your incredulity is not making me want to open up to you on this subject in the least, so just let me up and we’ll schedule you another appointment for next week.”

  “Okay, okay, I’m sorry,” he said, placing his hands on her upper arms. He winced as fire shot through his shoulder. It hadn’t been his intention to upset her more than she already was. He blinked back the pain. “Hold on, what do you mean ‘next week’? Aren’t we going to have daily sessions at the very least?”

  “For the most part, yes. Since it is Friday, we’ll start next week. Besides, you’re not my only patient. I have a full schedule.”

  Shit, now what? He needed a hell of a lot more attention than a couple of days a week.

  “Maybe you should hire a dedicated PT. You know, someone who can be with you 24/7 to work with you and keep you from overtraining. If you’re anything like I remember, you have no concept of holding back.”

  “That’s perfect. That’s exactly what I need. With that type of care I can be cage-ready by fight night.” He stepped back with a satisfied smile and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll send someone over later to pick up you and your things.”

  …

  She’d already hopped off the table and moved to the desk and now her head whipped around so fast he was worried she’d need her own therapy to repair the whiplash. “What?”

  “It only makes sense if you move in with me until I’m healed, Lu. Come on, it’s not like I didn’t practically live at your place when we were younger. Then we can work on my shoulder more often and you can make sure I don’t do anything stupid. And you know I’m guaranteed to do something stupid.”

  He watched as she crossed the small room to retrieve his shirt. “Even if the idea of moving in with you for two months didn’t bother me, there’s the little issue of my job.”

  “I’ll pay you for your time off, of course. Double if you want—money isn’t a problem.”

  She gave him the universal get dressed signal by slapping his shirt against his chest. “You’re absolutely right; money isn’t a problem. I have at least eight weeks of vacation time saved up since I never have a reason to take it. The problem is that the idea is ludicrous!”

  Reid had to think quickly or he was going to lose this fight, and something deep down told him to not lose this fight. He needed her to get him where he wanted to be in two months. He was as sure of it as he was his own name. Suddenly the perfect lure came to him, and though the idea gave him equal parts excitement and anxiety, he cast it anyway.

  “I’ll teach you how to get your doctor if you do this for me.”

  Lucie had been on her way out of the exam room, all but dismissing him and his offer of being roomies, but that simple statement had her feet glued several feet before the threshold. She was hooked, now he just had to reel her in carefully, or he’d lose her and his chances for a rematch. He approached her slowly from behind as he
spoke.

  “I’ll show you how to act, what to say…everything you need to know to make him notice you. If there’s one thing I know, its women and what they do that turns men on to the point of utter distraction.” Her head turned to the side. Not a big movement, but enough to let him know he had her attention. “You’ll have him eating out of the palm of your hand in no time. I guarantee it.”

  Long moments passed in slow motion. His pulse raced in his ears as he waited for her to call him an idiot or storm off in a fit of disgust. That Jackson would skin Reid alive for teaching Lucie anything having to do with seduction should’ve made him think twice about his offer, but he couldn’t bring himself to retract it.

  She shook her head as though rejecting her own thoughts. “Sorry, but—”

  Before she could finish shooting him down, a dark-haired gentleman poked his head around the door frame. “Lucie, I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I seem to have already rubbed off the, uh,” the man glanced at Reid and cleared his throat, “patient number you gave me earlier. Since I was on my way out I thought I could get it from you real quick. I brought paper this time.”

  What. A. Douche. It took everything in him not to pound the guy right then and there. That this guy was the one Lucie had the hots for couldn’t have been more plain if she’d introduced him as Dr. Clueless Dumbass.

  Reid watched Lucie as she stared at the doctor for long moments, almost as though she was stuck in some internal monologue and forgot that time was still ticking away out here in the real world. Something about giving him the patient number had thrown her off. When the man cleared his throat and held out a small piece of paper, she blinked back into action.

  “Of course, Dr. Mann.” After quickly scribbling a phone number on the paper she said, “Here you go.”

  “Great, thanks. I’ll see you later.”

  Reid waited. Three seconds ticked by…seven…twelve. At last Lucie squared her shoulders, spun around, and said, “You’ve got yourself a deal.”