Cinderella for a Night

by Susan Mallery

  Compared to Martha Jean, Cynthia was about as elegant as a milkmaid. Yet just looking at her was enough to get his blood pumping both hotter and faster. He wanted to step into the room and pull her into his arms. He wanted to bury himself inside of her until they were both slick with sweat and lost in passion. Worse, he wanted to talk with her. He wanted to hear about her day and tell her about his. He wanted to see what she thought of his latest deal. He didn’t know her well enough to guess her opinions on most matters and the thought of finding that out tempted him.

  It wasn’t her, he told himself. It was because there was a woman waiting for him. He wasn’t used to that. Lucinda had her own house and he didn’t as a rule invite women to stay. So he usually came home to emptiness and silence.

  “You’re up late,” he said.

  Cynthia started, then looked up at him and smiled. “I didn’t hear you come in.” She closed the book. “How was your day?”

  “Fine. Busy.” He crossed to the leather sofa opposite her chair and sat.

  The study had always been one of his favorite rooms in the house. It was also one of the few he hadn’t renovated after his father’s death. Bookshelves still lined three walls, their contents carefully catalogued on his computer. The desk opposite the fireplace was nearly two hundred years old and had been brought to Grand Springs by train nearly a century before. As a child he’d spent countless happy hours curled up in one of the leather chairs in this room, reading. Books had always allowed him to escape to a happier place than his home.

  “I had a business dinner,” he told her, not sure why he felt he had to explain where he’d been.

  “Lucinda mentioned that.” Cynthia pressed her fingertips against the top of the book. She drew in a deep breath and met his gaze. “I appreciate that you’re very busy. Between your work and dealing with your brother’s death, you haven’t had a lot of spare time. But you’ve been gone since Friday. You get home late and leave early. You can’t keep doing this. Colton needs you.”

  Until she’d mentioned the baby, he’d practically forgotten he existed. “Colton is a baby. What he needs is a nanny.”

  “He needs a father. Or at least an uncle who will become a father in time.”

  That was not information he needed to hear. “I’m not his father. Nor do I know how to fulfill the role.” His own father had done a poor job raising him. Jonathan didn’t want the past repeating itself. Even more, he didn’t want to become involved with a child. Not this one or any one.

  “You’ll learn together,” Cynthia said confidently. “It’s just a matter of practice and love. But how are you going to get to know him enough to even like him, let alone love him, if you don’t spend time with him?”

  Love? “I don’t want to love him,” he said curtly. “What’s the point?”

  He thought she would get angry at his blunt statement, or contradict him. Women seemed to live to believe in love. In his mind, it was all a waste of time. But Cynthia surprised him. Instead of being upset, she simply set her book on the end table next to her and slid forward in her chair.

  “Jonathan, I know thinking about David being gone is painful, but you have to push your grief aside enough to deal with your nephew. Right now it seems that there is no point in loving anyone. After all, once you love them they go away, right? You lost your mother when you were very young. Your father died a few years ago and now David is gone. But you still have Colton and if you let yourself get close to him, you’ll find that you can help each other to heal.”

  She sighed. Her eyes focused on his face and he could practically touch the compassion and earnestness oozing from her. “I know that when you look at Colton you see David. That has to be painful now, but in time you’ll appreciate the connection to your brother. You’ll be happy that a piece of him lingers on. You can transfer the love you have for your brother to Colton. Love is very flexible that way. It bends and grows to fit the situation.”

  He couldn’t believe what she was saying. Worse, he couldn’t believe she believed it. Was she insane or just misguided?

  “I don’t know where you got your information,” he told her, “but I’m not in mourning for my brother. I don’t feel regret or even remorse that he’s gone. I have no emotions. Only questions.”

  “I understand,” she said. “You want to know who killed him.”

  He shrugged. “I have some mild curiosity about that, but I’m mostly concerned with why he was stealing from the company and why he hired someone to try to kill me. That poison you accidentally drank was compliments of him and intended for me.”

  Chapter 6

  “No,” Cynthia said, vigorously shaking her head. “That’s not possible.”

  Jonathan stared at her blandly, as if he’d just informed her about rain in the morning’s forecast. He didn’t look upset or angry. She couldn’t have heard him correctly. That was it. He hadn’t really accused his brother of trying to have him killed.

  Jonathan leaned back in the sofa. He shifted so that his ankle rested on his opposite knee. Most of the light in the room came from the reading lamp by her right shoulder which meant that he was in shadow. His new position made it even more difficult for her to clearly see his face.

  “It’s more than possible,” he said, his voice low, as if he were tired. “David and I—” He hesitated. “To say we didn’t get along is putting it mildly. David always hated me. I never understood why. He was the favorite, he had every opportunity, but it wasn’t enough. About a year ago I realized that someone was stealing from the company. I had my suspicions but I didn’t think David would be that stupid.”

  “I thought he worked for you,” she said, still trying to make sense of what he’d said. “Isn’t the company partially his?”

  “It was. Our father left us each ownership of different divisions. However, I had control over the day-today operations. David hated that.”

  “But if he stole from the company, he was stealing from himself.”

  “David wouldn’t see it that way. He was only concerned about taking what I had. It was months before I figured out how he was doing it, and even longer to get proof. I confronted him at the party last week. I told him he had until morning to put the money back or I would have him arrested. But he didn’t care. He said he was leaving the country and while he was gone, I would have a fatal mishap. Then he would own it all.”

  She stared at him. “I can’t believe this.”

  “Not every family is like yours. Not everyone is good.”

  “I know that,” she said defensively. “I’m not stupid.”

  “I think you’re innocent. That’s different from stupid.” He shrugged. “The police found tickets to Rio in David’s possession after he was killed. He’d meant everything he said.”

  Cynthia leaned forward. “I don’t understand. How could you be so different? I don’t want to speak ill of your brother, but he sounds like a horrible man. Yet you’re so good.”

  “I’ve told you, I’m a bastard. You’d better learn that. As for us being different, we are that. I learned early that I had to work for what I wanted. I don’t think David ever figured that out. He got used to taking what interested him, whether it was a toy, a business or a woman. In the end, he played out of his league and it cost him his life, along with his wife’s.”

  She pressed her lips together. If she believed what Jonathan told her—and he had no reason to lie—then the current situation here at the house started to make sense.

  “So you’re avoiding Colton because of his father. You’re angry at David and angry at the baby.”

  “So much for me being a saint,” he said lightly.

  “Oh.” She touched her hand to her chest. “I didn’t mean that in a bad way.”

  “Of course not. It’s quite a compliment.”

  “Jonathan, no. It’s a perfectly natural reaction.”

  He gazed at her steadily. “I’m not angry with Colton, nor am I punishing him. I don’t feel anything for him. Until the
woman from child protective services showed up with him at your house a few days ago, I’d never seen the kid. I told you—David and I weren’t close. I hadn’t been to his house in years and I’d never met Colton. I’m not hostile, I’m just not interested.”

  His words eased some of the tension inside of her. While she might not know how to handle the rest of Jonathan’s situation, she knew how to deal with people who had never been around babies.

  “It’s just a matter of getting used to him,” she said. “Give him a chance. He needs you, Jonathan. And I think you need him. Just try. Spend some time with him. Learn what it’s like to be with him. I think you’ll find you like it. Being a positive part of a child’s life is the greatest joy in the world.”

  She didn’t have to clearly see his expression to know that he wasn’t impressed with her argument.

  “I don’t share your love of family,” he said flatly. “Most aren’t as perfect as yours.”

  “Mine isn’t perfect,” she told him. “If it’s good now, it’s because everyone worked hard to make it that way.” She pressed her lips together and wondered how she could convince him of the importance of making a choice.

  “My mother got pregnant when she was fifteen,” she began. “Her parents, my grandparents, were furious. My father ducked out on his responsibilities. He disappeared, never to be heard from again. When my mom turned eighteen, her still angry family threw her out. I was barely three.”

  She smiled wryly. “I don’t remember much about that time in my life. My mom had to have been terrified. She had no skills, no support system and she was responsible for a toddler. But we grew up together. We were poor, I guess, but that wasn’t important. My mom loved me and was there for me.”

  Warmth filled her along with the memories. “There were so many times she could have given up, but she didn’t. She kept struggling and she kept us together. It was a conscious choice on her part. It’s like when she married Frank. I could have decided that I wanted my mom all to myself and have made his life difficult. But I didn’t. I chose to get to know him. And then I found out he was a wonderful man. I was lucky to have him in my life.”

  She shifted until she was sitting on the edge of her seat. “You are such an amazingly giving person, Jonathan. Your generosity has changed dozens of lives. By funding the seed money for new businesses, you give people a chance to make their dreams come true. You have such a big heart already. Can’t you open it enough to let in a little baby boy?”

  He sprang to his feet and paced to the fireplace. There, he braced one arm against the mantel. “I don’t know where you get off saying these things. You’re nothing but a Pollyanna. You always see the best in people.”

  She couldn’t help laughing. “You say that like it’s a flaw.”

  He spun to face her. “Of course it is. People are not good or selfless. They’re selfish bastards and they’ll take you for everything you’ve got if you let them.”

  “You want the world to think you’re the big bad wolf, but the truth is, you’re a softy, Jonathan Steele. You don’t fool me for a minute.”

  He stared at her. “If you believe that, then you are a fool. Make no mistake—I’m capable of acting exactly like the wolf. I could rip you apart without even trying.”

  She shook her head. “Why do you want me to think the worst of you? What are you trying to hide?”

  “I’m telling you the truth.” He took a single step toward her. “Don’t challenge me, Cynthia. You can’t win.”

  She rose and moved to stand in front of him. “This isn’t meant to be a challenge. What are you afraid of? Why do you have to keep the whole world at bay?”

  He tensed at her words. If she hadn’t been watching, she might not have seen the sudden stiffness in his muscles. Somehow she’d reached the heart of the matter.

  They were standing so close, she thought suddenly, caught by the fire in his eyes. She knew he was angry with her. There was an energy around him. She supposed she should have been afraid of him—after all he was Jonathan Steele and she knew nothing about him…Except what her heart told her. The instinct she’d always trusted said that he was a good man. A gentle man. That his hard nature was just a mask.

  “Get out,” he growled. “Get out before I do something we’ll both regret.”

  Instead she took a step closer. “I’m not afraid.”

  He reached up and grasped her hair, holding her firmly at the base of her neck. “I can make you afraid. I can make you beg and plead for me to let you go.”

  She supposed he was trying to frighten her. But instead of fear, she found herself filled with a kind of heat. She’d only felt it once before and that had been while Jonathan had been kissing her at the ball.

  “You can huff and puff all you want,” she said softly. “I’m made of sterner stuff than that.”

  “Who the hell are you?” he demanded, but didn’t give her time to answer. Instead he moved forward and, with his free hand, hauled her up against him.

  “Run!” he demanded just before his mouth claimed hers. “Run away, little girl.”

  But she couldn’t run. She couldn’t move. She couldn’t do anything but accept the fiery passion of his kiss as he claimed her mouth.

  There was no delicate dance this time. He didn’t ask or wait for permission. Instead he took what he wanted in a hard, hot embrace that left her shaken and breathless. His mouth moved over hers like a conquering hero claiming his spoils.

  Cynthia didn’t respond at first. She waited for the fear that must surely follow such an attack. She gathered herself to push away, to spring back, to do as he said…to run.

  But she couldn’t. Not because her body was frozen in place, but because she didn’t want to. She’d been wishing he would kiss her again since the moment he stopped in the ballroom of the Grand Springs Empress Hotel. Even in the hospital, while she’d been recovering, she’d found her thoughts returning again and again to Jonathan’s kiss and the feel of his body pressed against hers. Now that he was doing it again and she could inhale his scent and taste his masculine sweetness, she saw no reason to make him stop.

  Despite what he tried to claim, she knew the truth. He was a good man. Honest, caring, and wounded inside. He couldn’t have learned all he had about his brother without it having an impact on him. She ached for his pain. She wanted to heal him. She sensed that was one of the reasons he kissed her. Instinctively he reached out to another person to ease his pain.

  Then his tongue brushed against her lower lip and she found that she couldn’t think anymore. She couldn’t do anything but absorb the sensations that crashed through her like the tide against the shore. Wave upon wave of passion made her quiver and question and wonder how this amazing thing could be happening to her.

  She put her hands on his shoulders, then slowly parted her mouth. He groaned against her and swept inside, claiming her in a fit of desire that stole her breath. He explored her and teased her, touching, tasting, taking. He took and took and she continued to offer more. Because the more he needed, the more she seemed to have to give him. She strained to get closer, wanting to heal him with her passion.

  Being like this with him felt so right. Need burned inside of her. A wanting she’d never experienced before. She knew the logistics of what happened between a man and a woman, but not the details. Suddenly she wanted to know everything, to experience it all in this man’s arms.

  His hand released her hair only to move up and down her back. Long, strong fingers learned the curves of her hips and then her rear. He cupped her there and hauled her up against him. Her belly flattened against him and she felt an unfamiliar ridge. Her inexperienced brain took several seconds to figure out what it was. Jonathan was aroused. Just by this relatively innocent kiss. He might find her young and annoying and a Pollyanna, but he still wanted her.

  The information filled her with a lightness that made her wonder how she kept from floating away. She, Cynthia Morgan, virgin, had somehow captured this man’s atten
tion. She surged against him, shocking herself when she made her way into his mouth and began to explore him as he’d explored her. Instinctively she arched her hips toward him and moved her pelvis in a rhythm that provided counterpoint to the actions of her tongue.

  Jonathan thrust her away and swore. His eyes were bright with fire, his breathing nearly as fast as hers. He still wore a suit from his day at the office. Now he loosened his tie and unfastened the first couple of buttons on his shirt.

  “I won’t apologize,” he said, his voice low and challenging.

  “Good. Because that would really annoy me.” She had to clear her throat to make her voice sound right.

  He stared at her, his gaze intense. Then he reached up and rubbed his thumb against her bottom lip. “I want you.”

  His words sent a thrill racing through her. Between her legs, her muscles convulsed and she felt a sudden spurt of wetness on her panties.

  “I—I want you, too,” she managed to say, then had to duck her head so he wouldn’t see her blush.

  “The hell you do. You don’t know the first thing about being with a man like me.”

  “I could learn.”

  He groaned and turned his back on her. “You’re out of your league. You can’t win this game.”

  “It’s not a game and so far I’m holding my own.” A flash of temper gave her courage. She walked around him until they were facing each other again. “You treat me like a child. Okay, I’m younger than you and I haven’t lived a life similar to yours. Yes, I think the best of people. But I’m not simple and I’m not weak. When I was young, my mom was gone a lot, working. I grew up fast. I was responsible and capable at an age when most kids were still watching Saturday morning cartoons. When my stepfather died, I’m the one who held the family together. I’ve been a mature woman for a long time.”