City Cinderella

by Catherine George

  Emily eyed him narrowly. ‘I’m not sure.’

  He sighed impatiently. ‘Short of handing you my curriculum vitae, Miss Warner, what other information do you need to convince you?’

  ‘Of what, exactly?’

  ‘God, grant me patience! Pay attention—’

  ‘Woman?’ she said sweetly.

  Lucas disarmed her with a snort of laughter. ‘How about “darling”, then?’

  ‘In preference to “woman”, certainly. And I am paying attention. Do go on.’

  ‘Thank you so much.’ He rolled his eyes. ‘I’m doing my damnedest to get you to admit that there’s no reason why we shouldn’t spend time together. Socially. No obligation involved, since you’re so hung up on that. So do you?’

  ‘Do I what?’

  ‘Admit it?’

  ‘I suppose so.’ She eyed him uncertainly. ‘Look, are you dispensing with my services, or not? I’ve lost the thread somewhere.’

  He gave a growl of frustration. ‘Back to the money again. Is that all you can think about?’

  ‘Lack of it tends to focus the mind,’ she said tartly. ‘So have I got the sack?’

  Lucas gave her a considering look. ‘It all depends.’

  ‘On what?’

  ‘Whether you can work for me, and take my weekly cheque, and at the same time accept me as the man in your life.’

  Emily gazed at him in silence, her heart beating thickly. ‘I—I’m not sure, Lucas.’

  His face darkened. ‘About me?’

  Emily shook her head, suddenly tired of pretending. ‘I meant that if we do see each other socially it seems all wrong to take your money at the same time.’

  His response to that was to pull her on to his lap and kiss her until her head reeled. At last, Lucas tore his mouth away and groaned, putting her away from him.

  ‘What’s the matter?’ said Emily breathlessly.

  He smoothed her tumbled curls, smiling ruefully. ‘You know damn well—I want to take you to bed.’

  She smiled at him challengingly. ‘You could burn off surplus energy by helping me clean the flat instead.’

  He shook his head. ‘Not a chance. I’ve been away, so the place is still perfect from your labours last week. And you don’t have to change the bed,’ he added. ‘I’ve already done that.’

  ‘Have you, now?’

  He leered at her. ‘Your suspicions are perfectly correct, Miss Warner. I had every intention of carrying you off to it the moment you came through the door, and keeping you there for the foreseeable future.’

  She grinned. ‘Bad luck.’

  Lucas bent to kiss her dimple, then went on to plant kisses all over her face, but stopped abruptly when he found tears on her lashes. ‘Darling, what’s wrong?’

  ‘Nothing at all, now,’ she said, sniffing. ‘But I’ve had such a depressing week, Lucas. Ever since you left me, in fact. And this weekend I was alone in the house. Mark was on a course, Nat was with Thea, and Ginny was away with Charlie. So, as if Saturday wasn’t miserable enough already, I didn’t meet her for coffee as usual, either—’ She stopped, her face suddenly hot.

  ‘Miserable?’ he asked sharply, his arms tightening around her. ‘Why?’

  ‘Hormones,’ she muttered, ducking her head, but a relentless hand brought her face up.

  ‘Tell me the truth,’ Lucas ordered. ‘Were you by any chance miserable because you weren’t pregnant?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she said scornfully. Though she had been. For a split-second.

  Lucas kissed the tip of her nose. ‘Must you really go back to Spitalfields today?’

  ‘Yes. I still have to earn my living. But I’ll come back later.’

  ‘And stay!’ He kissed her by way of emphasis.

  ‘You mean spend the nights here, too?’ she said huskily, when he raised his head.

  Lucas nodded, his eyes glinting. ‘And I don’t mean in the spare bed. It’s always best,’ he added virtuously, ‘to make things clear from the start. I’d hate you to misunderstand my intentions.’

  ‘Which are?’ she demanded.

  ‘Exactly what you think they are,’ he said promptly, and gave her a smacking kiss totally different from before. ‘It doesn’t matter that I can’t make love to you right now. I can wait. Somehow. But, just in case you’ve forgotten, I’ve recently been ill. I need you here with me, day and night, to complete my cure. I haven’t been sleeping well lately.’

  ‘Neither have I.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘You know perfectly well why,’ she said crossly, and tried to get up, but Lucas kept her firmly in place on his lap.

  ‘So why the hell did you send me packing that night?’ he demanded.

  ‘Lucas,’ she said patiently, ‘at that point I could have been pregnant.’

  He gave her a baffled glare. ‘What’s that got to do with it?’

  ‘Everything.’ Emily smiled at him coaxingly. ‘Surely you can see my point?’

  ‘No,’ he said flatly, and ran the tip of his tongue round the outline of her parted lips before sliding it into her mouth, the kiss so arousing it won him a feverish response. But after a breathless, increasingly frustrating interval Emily pushed his hands firmly away.

  ‘Stop! I can’t think when you do that, and I need to get a few things straight, Lucas. I’m happy to come back later. Very happy,’ she added with a smile. ‘The rest of the week, too, if you want, in the time left over from my cleaning jobs. But I’m not going to sleep here.’

  He stared incredulously. ‘Why the hell not?’

  ‘If I stay here at night it would be the next best thing to moving in with you.’

  ‘What’s wrong with that?’ he said, and cupped her face in his hands.

  ‘Try to understand, Lucas. My father tries desperately hard to be liberal, but it really upset him when I set up house with Miles. Dad would have liked to see me married first.’

  ‘Which would have been a total disaster!’

  Emily nodded vehemently in agreement. ‘Dad knows that now, and is probably thanking God daily that there wasn’t a wedding. My mother lives in the real world, so her objection was to Miles, not the cohabiting. But the thing is, Lucas,’ she went on, ‘I’m not going to upset their apple cart again right now by even appearing to move in with you.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘You mean you’d hold out for a ring first?’

  ‘Of course not,’ she said scornfully. ‘I simply want to give them—and myself—time to get over the last fiasco before trying anything like it again.’

  ‘It wouldn’t be a fiasco with me,’ Lucas said flatly. ‘So what exactly do you want, Emily?’

  ‘To carry on with my life as usual, spend as much time as you like with you, but go back to Spitalfields at night,’ she said, smiling.

  ‘Stop coercing me with that dimple,’ growled Lucas. ‘What about your novel?’

  ‘I’ll take time off from that until you go back to work.’

  He smiled indulgently. ‘You realise that it won’t make the slightest difference?’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  The black eyes gleamed with a look so explicit she caught her breath. ‘To the precise nature of our relationship, Miss Warner. Go back to your room at night if you must, but no one will be fooled. Sedley knows already.’

  ‘Knows what?’

  ‘How I feel about you.’

  ‘That’s nice, because I don’t!’

  ‘Of course you do. I want you so much I can’t sleep at night, Miss Warner.’ And to prove his point Lucas kissed and caressed her to a pitch of longing that made it clear that making love would happen any time, or anywhere, the mutual need arose. ‘You see?’ he said hoarsely, raising his head. ‘Everyone will assume we’re lovers whether you stay here at night or not.’

  ‘I know that!’ said Emily scornfully. ‘I’m not an idiot. But I’m sticking to my guns. Indulge me in this, please, Lucas. Or—’

  ‘Or you won’t even spend the rest of the morning wit
h me,’ he said, resigned.

  ‘I have to get back right now, anyway,’ she said, startling him enough to let her go when she jumped to her feet.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Because I have my other jobs to do. After which I need a shower and a change of clothes.’

  ‘In future keep clothes here. Though, personally,’ he said, eyeing her, ‘I find the dishevelled look very sexy. You look perfect to me.’

  Because she knew her face was shiny, her hair had escaped from its moorings, and she was wearing jeans so old they were bleached nearly white, Emily eyed him with scorn.

  ‘I mean it,’ he assured her, then scowled. ‘All right, have it your way. But no walking back. I’ll call a cab.’ He kissed her swiftly. ‘Then, when you’re ready, I’ll come and collect you.’

  ‘No, don’t do that,’ she said urgently. ‘I’ll come back on my own.’

  His eyes narrowed. ‘Why don’t you want me to fetch you?’

  Emily braced herself. ‘You won’t like it.’

  ‘Tell me, anyway.’

  ‘Miles came to fetch me in a taxi when I moved in with him. It was a weekend and there were people around from the other flats. We were waved off like newly-weds.’ She eyed him warily. ‘Mark will be back from his course this morning, with his girlfriend—’

  ‘So what?’ snapped Lucas. ‘Do you think they’ll care a toss that I’m taking you off with me?’

  ‘No! I just don’t want it to be like last time. I want everything different. Silly, I know, but I’m superstitious. Try to see it my way.’

  ‘Chauvinist that I am,’ he said with cold sarcasm, ‘I can only see it from my own. You quite fancy an hour or two here with me now and then, as long as you can sneak away when your friends aren’t looking. And I’m supposed to be grateful for that?’

  ‘You’re putting words in my mouth,’ she said angrily.

  ‘I prefer them to yours!’ he snapped, his eyes so hostile she backed away. ‘If we are to share our life in any way at all, I want exclusive rights on the arrangement—while it lasts—and I want it public, darling.’

  The snarled, flippant endearment was the last straw. Emily gave him a look that should have felled him on the spot, then ran for her coat, snatched up her bag, and raced from the flat, banging the door behind her. In the lift angry tears streamed down her face, partly because there’d been no need to run. Lucas had made no attempt to come after her.

  When the cab dropped a deeply miserable Emily in Spitalfields she forced a smile when she found Bryony on her way out. ‘Morning, Nurse Talbot.’

  ‘Hi, Emily.’ Bryony beamed. ‘I’m just popping out for a paper.’

  ‘Enjoy your weekend?’

  ‘You bet I did. I made full use of the hotel gym and spa facilities in the day while Mark worked his socks off, then we got together afterwards for the socialising. I didn’t trust the females on the course!’ Bryony winked as she went to the door, then turned. ‘Oh, by the way, I let your brother in just now. He’s waiting for you in your room.’

  Emily blenched. ‘Andy? Oh, my God, something’s wrong at home!’ She took the stairs at a run, raced up the second flight, and shot through the open doorway to find a man stuffing her laptop into a sports bag.

  ‘Miles? Put that down,’ she shouted furiously.

  ‘Emily!’ Miles Denny spun round to face her, his dismay quickly covered by belligerence. ‘I’m only taking what’s mine.’

  ‘Wrong. You’re stealing,’ she snapped. ‘How did you find out where I lived?’

  He smiled smugly. ‘Ginny keeps an address-book by her telephone.’

  ‘Snooping,’ said Emily with disdain. ‘But right now you’re trespassing. I should call the police.’

  He glared at her. ‘If you’d returned my calls it needn’t have come to this. I just want the laptop.’

  ‘Well, you can’t have it. It’s mine. I paid for it, remember. I need it.’

  ‘Hard luck,’ he sneered. ‘So do I.’ He strode towards her, but Emily stood her ground.

  ‘Put that down,’ she ordered angrily.

  ‘No chance!’ He tried to brush her aside, but Emily fought with him, trying to wrench the bag from him, and after a panting, undignified struggle Miles shoved her away roughly at last, sending her sprawling on the bed. But by the time he was through the open doorway with his prize Emily was up and running. She flew across the landing, careering down to wrench the bag away so violently when she caught up with him on the second flight that she missed her footing, and with a scream crashed into Miles. He gave a despairing yell as he tried desperately to save himself, then went hurtling the rest of the way, to land with a sickening crack as his head met the beautiful tiles of the hall floor. The noise brought Mark bursting from his rooms to race down the stairs with a groan of horror when he saw Emily in a winded, crumpled heap, the sports bag clutched to her chest. He crouched to take it from her, his face so white Emily managed a wobbly smile. He heaved a great sigh of relief.

  ‘Thank God! Are you all right? What the hell happened, Em? Who’s the guy? Where do you hurt?’

  ‘All—over. Is—is he dead?’ she gasped, shivering.

  At which point Bryony arrived back, took in the scene, and immediately switched to staff nurse mode. When a groan from the man on the floor indicated he was alive, she checked his vital signs, then gave Emily a thorough going over, her fingers gentle through the tumbled black curls as she encouraged deep breaths. ‘I’ll see to your brother in a minute. Did you bump your head?’

  ‘No more—than—various other bits of me,’ gasped Emily. ‘My ankle—hurts most. I stuck my leg out to save myself.’

  Bryony tried the patient’s endurance not a little with some expert probing. ‘Not broken, but a bad sprain by the look of it. Best to have an X-ray to make sure—you may be concussed, too. We’ll take you into hospital, love.’

  ‘What about your brother?’ said Mark.

  Emily eyed the recumbent, groaning man with scorn only slightly tempered with remorse. ‘That’s not my brother. He was making off with my laptop—’

  ‘What?’ screeched Bryony. ‘You mean I let a burglar up to your room?’

  ‘Ex-boyfriend, not burglar. How is he?’

  Bryony checked Miles’s pulse again, then shrugged. ‘He’s concussed, but as far as I can tell he hasn’t broken anything. Not even his neck.’

  ‘Thank heavens for that. I’d hate to have his murder on my conscience. I didn’t mean to push him down the stairs.’ Emily smiled ruefully at Mark. ‘Break it to me gently. Is the laptop done for?’

  He retrieved the bag, took the machine out and opened it up. ‘I can’t be sure without switching it on,’ he said, examining it. ‘I’ll check it later.’

  Bryony returned her attention to the groaning man on the floor. ‘What’s his name, Em?’

  ‘Miles Denny.’

  ‘Right then, Miles Denny. Let’s have a proper look at you.’

  Miles surfaced groggily, ignored Bryony’s orders to lie still, struggled upright, threw up copiously and passed out again.

  ‘Yikes!’ said Mark in disgust.

  During the hectic few minutes that followed Bryony displayed sterling qualities of organisation. She rang for an ambulance, put a bag of ice on Emily’s ankle, and with Mark’s reluctant, green-faced help cleared up the mess and mopped up the patient while they waited. The paramedics who arrived knew Bryony from her job on the staff at the A & E Department at Guy’s Hospital, and much joshing went on about busman’s holidays while she gave them concise details of the fall. The unhappy Miles, fully conscious and complaining now, was soon strapped, complete with neck brace, to a stretcher and stowed in the ambulance. Bryony helped Emily inside after him, then jumped in herself for the familiar ride to the hospital.

  ‘I’ll do my best to get you seen quickly, Em,’ she promised, and cast a worried glance at her as they set off. ‘How do you feel?’

  Emily gave her a wan little smile. ‘Not great. But probably a whole l
ot better than Miles over there.’

  ‘Nice fellow!’ whispered Bryony in her ear. ‘When I went up to your room for your bag I found he’d forced the lock and damaged the door while he was at it.’

  Emily groaned in dismay. ‘Nat won’t be happy.’

  ‘I doubt he’ll worry over a few splinters.’

  ‘Genuine Georgian splinters, circa 1727!’

  Bryony grinned. ‘Nat won’t care a toss about that, now he’s back with Thea and the twins.’

  There was an urgent sound from the man opposite, and one of the paramedics caught Emily’s eye. ‘He wants to talk to you. But you keep that foot where it is, love. He’ll have to shout across.’

  ‘What is it, Miles?’ asked Emily, craning her neck to see him.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ he gasped. ‘Is the laptop smashed?’

  Bryony glared at him. ‘Of course it is. But just in case you’re interested, Emily sprained her ankle.’

  ‘Buy—her—new computer.’ He managed a smile, then passed out again.

  It was an hour later before Emily, X-rayed, strapped up and provided with a crutch, finally hobbled from the hospital with Bryony, who had made some enquiries in the meantime, at Emily’s urgent request, and learned that Miles was concussed enough to be kept in overnight for observation, but there was no skull fracture.

  ‘Ouch. I didn’t think of anything as serious as that.’ Emily pulled a face, then smiled warmly at Bryony in the taxi. ‘I’m so lucky you were there this morning. You’re a star.’

  ‘Nah! As they say on television—just doing my job.’

  When they turned down the familiar cobbled street Bryony told the taxi-driver to wait outside the house, and fetched Mark to help Emily from the cab.

  ‘We’d better commandeer Nat’s kitchen for the moment,’ said Mark when they were inside.

  ‘I’ll make tea,’ said Bryony, hovering as Emily made slow progress along the narrow hall.