The Cinderella Fantasy

by Sara Jane Stone

  “I haven’t been on a horse since I was a kid. Back then, my exposure was limited to the occasional pony rides at other kids’ parties,” Jared admitted. “I thought you liked horses. You took riding lessons for a while. So I called in a favor from Jack. His dad invests in our fund.”

  She cocked her head and studied him. He’d traded his business suit for jeans and a fitted blue polo. Cowboy boots replaced his dress shoes. He looked as if he belonged there. But then, he’d always seemed at ease in every situation—including her childhood home.

  “You remember that I took lessons?” she asked.

  “I paid attention to everything that happened in the Linden house.” He walked around the car and took her hand. “I think you were ten when you started riding. Maybe eleven?”

  She nodded. Her fingers intertwined with his as they headed for the entrance to the long blue and white barn.

  “But you stopped a few years later. In high school,” Jared continued. “I was away at college then. So was Finn. Your brother thought your parents were struggling to cover the cost of the lessons.”

  “That’s part of it,” she admitted. “But I also discovered boys.”

  And my mom got diagnosed with cancer.

  He gave her hand a soft squeeze. But she didn’t glance back. Jared had been there—through her mother’s chemo treatments, her father’s heart attack, and her mom’s move to hospice. He’d attended the funerals. He’d stood by Finn’s side. And Finn had stood by hers.

  Before she’d moved to Orlando, before Jared had made his millions, he’d been a part of her life. Not directly. He’d been her brother’s friend and Finn’s crutch in those awful, painful years.

  “Now’s your chance to have both,” Jared said. “The horse and the boy.”

  He led her to a pair of saddled horses. The larger brown gelding wore a western saddle. Beauty, the supposedly calm, chestnut mare on the left looked ready for a show jumping competition. She reached up to pat the mare’s neck. “I hope you can keep up.”

  “We’ll find out.” He followed the stable hand to a mounting block. But he guided the gelding around the step stool. He placed his foot in the stirrup and swung his other leg over the horse’s back.

  How does he do it? Move like he belongs here?

  Lucy scrambled to catch up. She mounted the mild-mannered mare and settling into the saddle. While she adjusted her stirrups, the stable hand pointed toward the trail cut into the shrubbery. Jared nodded and promised to follow the shallow canal out, turn around at the end, and head back.

  “Ready?” Jared asked as she guided her mount to stand beside his horse.

  “Yes.” She adjusted the reins as sweat beaded on her forehead. She considered asking for a helmet. But in this heat? She could handle a slow walk to the end of the trail and back. She guided her horse to the starting point, stealing a glance at her date.

  The city billionaire plays cowboy.

  She let out a laugh as the horses meandered down the path.

  “Are you laughing at me?” He kept his gaze on the path, but his lips curved into a grin.

  “When I saw you in The Taco Bar kitchen, after that awful date with Hugh—”

  “You remember his name?” he asked.

  He’s no longer smiling.

  “Mr. Thigh Gap was a low point in my career as a serial online dater. Hard to forget rock bottom.”

  “Former career.” He turned to look at her. “Right, Lucy?”

  “Well, there’s this guy—”

  His grip tightened on the reins, and his legs pressed against his mount. The gelding raised his head and side-stepped, unsure how to handle the mixed signals. Beauty glanced over at the other horse but maintained her meandering pace.

  “Lucy,” he growled.

  “Philip Ryder,” she continued. “He seems like a prince. But he lives in New York most of the time.”

  Jared’s grip on the reins relaxed, and his horse lowered his head. “We’ll make it work. I have an office here. Plus, I own a plane.”

  Comfort rushed up to her like a wave at low tide. The feeling approached, but it wasn’t powerful enough to engulf her. Not yet.

  Because there are too many questions, she thought. How? Would he move? Would he ask her to leave her company like her ex had?

  “Plus, he’s a workaholic,” she said, her tone now devoid of playful laughter.

  “So are you,” he said. “Multiple parties every weekend. Hours of prep and planning. Charity visits.”

  “And I love every minute,” she said. “I don’t want to give it up.”

  “I’m not asking you to, Lucy. I don’t want you to walk away from a company that you built from nothing.”

  Another rush of relief washed up to her, but quickly receded. The sun beat down on her, leaving her parched and sweaty.

  Horseback riding is feeling less and less romantic.

  Or maybe the conversation—the fears bubbling to the surface now, on their first real date—owned the blame.

  “Between distance and work schedules,” she said softly, her gaze fixed on the still water in the canal. “I wonder if there is enough space for us.”

  “We’ll make space,” he said firmly.

  “But when you go back to New York, to your life there,” she protested. And see the models . . . “And your friends—”

  “Lucy.” He pulled back on the reins, and his horse halted. Beauty followed the gelding’s lead. “Look at me.”

  She shifted in the saddle, twisting to look at her billionaire turned cowboy-for-the-day.

  He doesn’t look different. Not even when he’s comfortably mounted on a horse. Same blue eyes. Same wavy, brown hair.

  His right hand made a fist around the reins while his other hand gripped the saddle horn. His horse shifted its weight from one hind leg to the other. The corded muscles in Jared’s forearm tensed.

  Comfortable might be a stretch, she realized. He was in control on the horse but not at home. Still, he’d set up the adventure and taken the risk. He’d climbed onto a horse on a hot, humid summer day because he knew that once upon a time she’d wanted to ride.

  “I’m looking,” she murmured.

  “I can count on one hand the people who knew me before The Mitchell Fund took off, and I started making money. Finn’s on the list. And so are you. I know I was just your brother’s friend when you were a kid—”

  “My brother’s hot friend,” she said with a sigh.

  “Yeah?” He raised an eyebrow.

  She nodded. “But you were always so much older.”

  “Five years,” he said.

  “Is a lot when you’re a kid. And then you were gone. Off to college. Then grad school.” She cocked her head. “When I did see you, you were with Finn. You never seemed to notice me.”

  “You were engaged. You were Finn’s sister. It didn’t make sense to want someone I couldn’t have,” he said. “Before you rushed into the kitchen at The Taco Bar, I could count on one hand the number of times I saw you out of costume. Without the gown, I saw you.” His grin widened. “And your legs.”

  “You’re . . . ” She didn’t finish the sentence. She’d almost told him he was as bad as Mr. Thigh Gap. But that was a lie. Jared had put her first at every turn. He’d launched a dating profile for her. “Jared,” she said. “How many women responded to your Philip Ryder profile?”

  “More than I thought possible. Not that it matters.” He released the saddle horn and reached across to touch her cheek. He rose up in the saddle, guiding his horse closer to hers. His fingers brushed her skin. “I was looking for you. Even if I bothered to read through the other messages and profiles—which I haven’t—I wouldn’t find anyone like you. Smart. Resilient. Beautiful. Someone who knows me as more than a successful businessman.”

  His horse stepped away from hers, and for a second, she thought he’d lose his balance. His hand fell away from her cheek, returning to the saddle horn, steadying his upper body. “Lucy, I want to kiss you, but I�
��m afraid this horse has other ideas.”

  She laughed. “I think your mount realized you’re not a real cowboy.”

  “Not even close.” He pulled back on the reins. “Whoa, boy.” The horse took another step forward. “I should have settled for dinner at The Taco Bar.”

  “You didn’t want to be like my other online suitors,” she teased, urging her mare forward.

  “I didn’t want to risk my date dining with my sous chef,” he said dryly.

  “I wouldn’t run from you.”

  I couldn’t even if I wanted to, she added silently. Jared Mitchell was her past, her present, and her future. Which piece of her future remained nebulous, but they would figure it out one date at time.

  “Lucy.” His whispered tone held a hint of warning. He drew his horse to a halt. His mount whined in protest, sidestepping into the shrubs lining the dusty path.

  “I wouldn’t seek refuge in the kitchen or anywhere else,” she said firmly. “I won’t run.”

  “You need to.” He spoke in a low, urgent voice. “Slowly turn your horse around and go.”

  Beauty raised her head and called out. She felt the mare tense beneath her and then back away. “Jared?” she murmured.

  “There’s an alligator.” He spoke in a tense, clipped tone. “In the canal.”

  She looked over to the murky water. The gator wasn’t submerged in the five-foot-wide channel. He was climbing up the steep bank.

  Her knees pressed into the saddle, and her fingers formed tight fists around the reins. Stay on the horse, she thought. You must stay on the horse.

  “He’s heading for us,” she whispered. Though she had to admit, he wasn’t moving very fast. Or maybe alligators were like cats. They stalked their prey and then pounced. Despite growing up in Florida, she’d never seen a gator in the wild. She’d heard stories about alligators visiting golf courses. And she’d done a party for a Wellington family who’d reportedly had a baby alligator removed from their pool the week prior. But this guy was not a baby.

  “Lucy, you need to turn your horse around and get back to the barn,” Jared ordered.

  She gulped and nodded. Of course, her lazy mare could outrun the gator. Horses were fast and alligators were . . . deadly. “Zigzig?”

  “That’s a myth,” Jared said. “The gator should turn around and head back to the canal when he realizes we’re not only bigger, but faster.”

  “You sound like you’ve done this before,” she murmured as she held out her right hand and spun Beauty in a tight circle. Then she gave her a swift kick, and they were off.

  “First time,” Jared called after her. “Right now, I’m just trying to outrun disaster.”

  Chapter 22

  Jared spotted the end of the path leading to the parking area and the barn. But he didn’t relax his grip on the saddle horn or the reins. If he didn’t hold his horse back, his larger mount would beat Beauty back to the stables. He was pretty damn sure he’d terrified his date. He wasn’t about to leave her fending off a gator on her own.

  He stole a glance over his shoulder. A large tail slashed across the dusty path as the alligator turned around and headed for the canal.

  He looked toward the barn. Lucy had steered her mare to a waiting stable hand and collapsed on the animal’s neck. Her face was buried in Beauty’s mane. Even from a distance, he could see she was breathing hard.

  Because a damn alligator crashed our romantic walk.

  Jared slowed his horse, carefully guiding his mount to Lucy’s side. A second stable hand rushed out to greet them. He released the reins and allowed the man on the ground take control of his horse. Then he swung out of the saddle and moved to Lucy’s side.

  He placed his hand on her trembling leg. Slowly, she raised her pale face from her horse’s mane. “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She nodded. “I think I’m ready to say goodbye to Beauty.”

  He stepped back, giving her space to dismount. When her feet landed on the ground, he took her hand. “I’m sorry, Lucy. I made you a promise.”

  “You didn’t invite the gator on our date.”

  He reached out and drew her into his arms. Her cheek rested against his chest, and her arms slipped around his waist. She trembled against him.

  After effects of encountering an alligator on a date.

  “Guess I’m in competition now with Mr. Thigh Gap for rock bottom,” he said wryly.

  “Tonight wasn’t a total disaster.” Her fingers pressed against his lower back. “I was with you.”

  And that’s enough?

  Her logic didn’t make sense, but he’d take the win. “Next time will be better.” He let out a dry laugh. “It can’t get much worse.”

  She looked up at him. Her chin rested against his chest. “What if next time starts now? The sun will be down by the time we get back to Palm Beach. We could go to your place.”

  “I still have a picnic in my saddle bags.” He nodded to the horses waiting patiently with the stable hands. “Do you need to be home by midnight?”

  “Nothing changes at the stroke of twelve.” She released him and stepped back. “What you see is what you get, I’m afraid. One workaholic princess who won’t give up on fairy tales. Even if they include that occasional visit from a gator.”

  “I like what I see,” he said firmly, looking straight into her blue eyes. He held out his hand, and she placed hers in his. “Let’s go, Lucy. Let’s turn this date around.”

  Lucy had visited his mansion before, but never the winding corridors off the main rooms. Last time she’d stopped by with her brother, and they’d gone straight to the white marble kitchen.

  But tonight they bypassed the kitchen. They had eaten the picnic dinner during the car ride home while recounting the look on the alligator’s face. She believed the gator looked hungry. But Jared disagreed. He thought the beast just wanted to make trouble. If he’d been looking for a meal, the gator would have gone for something smaller. Jared bet the gator liked the thrill of the chase.

  You and that gator just might have something in common, Philip Ryder.

  But they were done playing chase. He’d caught her through his crazy online dating scheme. And now, they were heading into the depths of his home. She looked around the hallway and noted the arched ceilings of the long corridors. Glass doors with ornate iron frames lined the hallway. Through the panes, she saw a landscaped courtyard and a lap pool. He turned left at the end of the corridor. She could still see the pool, and the sounds of the ocean grew closer.

  “Where are you taking me?” she asked.

  “Do you trust me?”

  “Right now?” she murmured. “Yes. I think this is a gator-free space.”

  His blue eyes shone in the dimly lit space. Moonlight worked in tandem with the outdoor lights. Together they illuminated the pool and select palm trees beyond the glass doors.

  He has that lord-of-all-that-I-see look in his eyes again, she thought.

  “I trust that I’m going to like what’s on the other side of that door,” she added.

  He placed his hands on his hips and nodded to the entrance. “What if I told you the guest bathroom lies behind those doors?”

  “I would wonder,” she began. Then she turned around to face the double doors. The archway over the wooden doors matched the hallway. “I would wonder why you wanted to make love in the bathroom. But . . . ”

  He laughed as he closed the space behind her. His hands wrapped around her hips and drew her back against him. “I can’t wait to hear this but,” he growled in her ear.

  “But,” she continued, reaching back and placing her palms on his thighs. “I would trust that you have a plan.”

  His lips brushed her ear. “Will you still trust me in the morning?”

  “Are you suggesting we spend the night together?” She fought to keep her tone light. “In this bathroom?”

  “Yes.” He kissed her earlobe. “Will you, Lucy?”

  She felt she could spend the next mo
nth, the next year, maybe longer with Jared and still uncover new pieces of the man she’d known most of her life. She’d learn the sides of himself he hid from the rest of the world. Everything from the way he looked when he first woke up in the morning to how he made love before he headed to work.

  But another year would require a different level of faith in him.

  “I think,” she said slowly. “Trust is something you earn every day. But it becomes easier to give with time.”

  “I’ll earn yours again tomorrow,” he said as if she’d tossed out a challenge. He released her hips and stepped around her to push open the double doors. Then he moved to the side and gestured for her to enter.

  “This isn’t a bathroom,” she murmured as her feet touched the plush carpet. A low, wooden, enormous bedframe filled one side of the room. The simple, modern style matched the sitting area, but seemed oddly misplaced beneath the vaulted ceilings.

  “No.”

  He moved behind her. She felt his fingers brushing aside her hair, gently sweeping her long locks over her right shoulder. His lips followed his touch. Soft kisses teased the sensitive skin. A shiver ran through her, and she moaned.

  “I like this spot,” he murmured, tracing small circles over the nape of her neck with his tongue.

  He guided her forward, using his body to urge her closer to the bed. His free hand released the button on her jeans and drew her zipper down. Then his lips released her neck.

  “Tonight, it’s my turn to be selfish,” he said as he turned her around.

  “Sounds fair.” She pushed her jeans over her hips and down her legs. As she stepped out of her pants, she stripped off her shirt. She’d selected black, lace underwear for their date—no more boring white.

  Jared mimicked her motions, quickly removing his clothes. Standing before her in his black boxer briefs, he gave her a gentle push. And she let her body fall back, melting into the soft mattress.

  She watched as his thumbs slipped beneath the band of his underwear. He drew the last piece of clothing off and tossed it aside. She couldn’t see where his boxers landed. Not that it mattered now that his well-defined muscles—and so much more—were on full display. He leaned forward and his abs contracted. His hands wrapped around her ankles.