Cinderella's Tycoon

by Caroline Cross

  He indicated the bags. “That it?”

  “Yes. Except for my books. And some household items, towels, linens, knickknacks, that sort of thing.”

  “Like I told you,” he said as he closed the distance between them, took the suitcases from her and set them by the door. “I’ll send one of my men over with a pickup tomorrow to get the rest of your stuff. Once you’ve seen my place, you’ll have a better idea what you want to keep.”

  She nodded. “Yes. I know. Thank you.”

  There was a brief pause as Sterling gathered his thoughts. “There’s something we need to discuss,” he began.

  “Oh! I almost forgot—” Susan said simultaneously.

  They both fell silent. Sterling managed a terse smile. “Ladies first.”

  “It’s nothing really,” she said quickly. “That is, it is to me, but it may not be to you. It’s just...about my job...”

  He frowned. “I thought we agreed you were going to quit.”

  Inexplicably the faintest flicker of disbelief came and went on her face before she said, “Well... yes. But you see, it’ll take some time for them to replace me, and I can’t just leave them in the lurch that way, so I’ve agreed to work part-time. It’ll just be for a while,” she was quick to assure him. “And I did arrange to take the rest of this week off.”

  He supposed he couldn’t fault her for being conscientious. “Okay. Is that it?”

  “Actually, there is one other thing...” Her voice trailed off as she walked over and picked up her purse off the sofa. She opened it and pulled out a roll of bills. “Here.” She offered the money to him.

  He frowned. “What’s that for?”

  “It’s yours. You gave it to me yesterday. Remember?”

  “Yeah. So?”

  “So it was very kind of you, but as it turned out, I didn’t need it. I took care of things myself.”

  He gave her lavender dress a quick glance, staunchly trying not to notice the way it clung in strategic places to the slim body that shaped it. He might not be an expert on women’s clothing, but he knew it hadn’t come from the Bargain Mart. Just as a single glance around the rather shabby living room was proof enough that his bride was hardly rolling in money. Wondering what her game was, he said carefully, “Look, I expect to pay your way. Even though this isn’t a conventional marriage—” it couldn’t hurt to lay a little groundwork “—you’re still my wife. Legally at least.”

  “But I wasn’t yesterday,” she countered earnestly. “And it just doesn’t feel right to take your money. Not that I’m not grateful. It—it was very sweet and very generous of you to give it to me. But I think it’s important that we start out on the right foot and I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of gold digger.” When he still didn’t make a move to take the cash, she carefully reached out and slipped it into his coat pocket.

  His lips involuntarily compressed at the jolt of awareness that shot through him at her innocent touch.

  Oblivious to his discomfort, she took a few steps back, linked her hands together and smiled tentatively up at him. “Now. What did you want to tell me?”

  He stared back at her. Well, shoot. What was he supposed to do now? Tell her to hell with starting off on the right foot, it would make things a whole lot easier if she was just a tad bit less ethical?

  Then, at least, they could have a nice, straightforward business arrangement. Instead she was complicating everything by her insistence on being so...nice. Not that he wasn’t pleased that the mother of his child appeared to have some standards, he was quick to assure himself. He was. But still...between the way she looked, the way she kissed, and now this, nothing was going the way he expected. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.

  On the other hand, they did have to live together. And it was sort of flattering—in a totally annoying way—how she’d gone to such lengths to spruce herself up for him. More important, given her delicate condition, he sure as hell didn’t want to take a chance on upsetting her. Which was a distinct possibility, he realized uneasily as he gazed into her concerned brown eyes.

  Damn. What if he said the wrong thing and she got hysterical and fainted or something and hurt herself or the baby?

  His stomach hollowed and he came to a sudden decision. He’d lay down the law in a few days, after she’d settled in at his place. And in the interim he’d keep to himself until she got the picture. Then, when she’d had some time to accept how things stood, they’d talk.

  “Sterling?” Susan said. “Did you want to say something?”

  “No,” he said decisively.

  She worried her lower lip, then released it. “Are you sure?”

  With a start of disgust, he realized his eyes were riveted on the full, soft curve of her mouth. Jerking his gaze away, he wheeled, picked up the suitcases and nudged open the screen, holding it open for her. “I’m sure. I think we ought to get going.”

  She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she drew herself up and took one last look around the room. Then she picked up the Cachet box and her bridal bouquet and walked resolutely toward him and the door.

  Stopping as she drew abreast of him, she caught him by surprise as she lightly laid a hand on his forearm. “I realize this isn’t an easy situation for either of us,” she said softly. “But I want you to know, I’ll do my best to be a good mother to the baby and a good wife to you.”

  Great. Just what he wanted to hear. “Yeah. Me, too,” he mumbled in return. Since he didn’t mean a word of it, for a second he felt like the biggest heel on earth.

  Then she nodded, glanced shyly away and set off for the car—but not before her hip brushed against his thigh as she passed by.

  His body instantly tightened.

  So did his resolve. For whatever reason, there was something about her that seemed to have a disastrous effect on his self-control. And he. liked that the least of all.

  The quicker he established some distance between them, the better off they’d both be.

  Three

  “Oh, my,” Susan said softly.

  Standing beside the car, she stared at the house before her. Like everybody in the area, she’d heard about Sterling’s place. She’d even driven past the ornate entrance gate once with Callie to see for herself the emerald green pastures, man-made lake and graceful groves of trees that made the lush estate such a novelty in the arid scrubland of West Texas. Not surprisingly, the locals had taken to calling it the Oasis and the name had stuck.

  The house couldn’t be seen from the road, however, set back as it was in a screen of trees at the end of the long, straight driveway. Secretly she’d been worried that it was going to be so imposing she’d never feel comfortable in it.

  Now, some of her tension melted away. Instead of the formal, white-pillared mansion she’d expected, the structure rising before her was a big, sprawling two-story surrounded by a wild profusion of bushes and flowers. From what she could see, it was warm rather than palatial, charming rather than impressive, welcoming rather than intimidating.

  It didn’t seem to suit Sterling at all, she thought ruefully, watching him from under her lashes as he got her suitcases from the trunk.

  So far, he’d been anything but warm and welcoming. Not only had he barely spoken a word on the drive over, but it had almost seemed as if he’d been trying to avoid looking at her. And though she’d told herself that it didn’t mean a thing, that he was just being a conscientious driver, she had to admit that his aloofness was starting to get to her.

  Waiting until he looked up, she bravely met his cool gray gaze. “This is lovely, Sterling.”

  His expression lightened for a moment. “Yeah. It’s okay.” Closing the trunk, he picked up her suitcases and led the way across the paved circular driveway and up the wide, shallow stairs to a trellised entryway. Overhead, a leafy vine abloom in white flowers gave off a faintly spicy perfume.

  Captivated, Susan again tried to start up a conversation. “Oh, how pre
tty. Is that a clematis?”

  He set down the suitcases and reached to open the door. “Beats me. You’ll have to ask Maxine.”

  “Maxine?”

  “My housekeeper.” His voice took on a distinctly sardonic tone. “She likes to think she knows everything.”

  “Oh.” Susan felt a pang of dismay. While she was relieved to discover that they weren’t going to be all alone in the house, she didn’t know a thing about having hired help. Heavens, she’d never even had a cleaning lady. What if this Maxine didn’t like her?

  She didn’t have to wait long to find out. She’d barely crossed the threshold before a tall, energetic woman dressed in trim white slacks and a bright turquoise blouse materialized at the end of the hall. “Well, I declare, it’s about time you two got here,” the newcomer drawled with a pronounced Texas twang as she marched purposefully closer. “I was startin’ to worry. I put the last touch on the cake half an hour ago.”

  Sterling’s eyes narrowed. “What cake?”

  The woman, who appeared to be in her fifties, and who had shrewd brown eyes, a weathered face and improbable blond hair swept up in the sort of elegant chignon that Susan could never achieve, smiled at him blandly. “Why, your weddin’ cake, boss. You didn’t think I’d let something as important as your gettin’ hitched pass without at least fixin’ you a special dinner, did you?”

  Blithely ignoring his obvious lack of enthusiasm, she shifted her focus. “You must be Susan,” she said warmly. “Why, aren’t you a pretty little thing! The boss never said a word about that, but then, he wouldn’t.” She flashed her employer a brief, reproachful look, then brightened. “But I guess I’m gettin’ the cart before the horse. I’m Maxine, and I take care of most of the important things around here. I’m sure this must all seem a tad overwhelmin’ at the moment, what with the baby and this quickie marriage, but you just wait and see, you’ll be settled in no time.

  “Now, why don’t you let me show you your room, and then you can see the rest of the house. I’ll get one of the boys to bring up your suitcases later, unless you need something right away.”

  Susan glanced at Sterling, feeling a bit dazed. Unless she’d missed something, it appeared he’d explained their situation to his housekeeper. While she didn’t mind exactly—when she stopped to think about it she could see that anything else would have raised all sorts of awkward questions—he could at least have warned her.

  Yet conversing with her was clearly not high on his list of priorities. “You go ahead,” he said, his expression once again impossible to read. “I need to call my office.”

  “Yeah, and you need to call your lawyer,” Max informed him tartly. She made a sour face. “I’m tellin’ you, for such a supposed hotshot, that man is plenty excitable. He’s called here three times, babblin’ about some message you left on his answering machine and insistin’ he has to talk to you.”

  “Great,” Sterling murmured. “Anything else?”

  “As a matter of fact, yessir there is. Greg Hunt called. Said he had some information for you about that immigrant you and some of the other gentlemen from the Cattleman’s Club are sponsoring and that he’d appreciate it if you’d give him a call.”

  “Terrific.” With a stiff nod, he walked down the hall and disappeared around the corner.

  Susan stared after him, telling herself to give him the benefit of the doubt. Rather than being deliberately rude, he probably just hadn’t adjusted his thinking yet to include a wife. Once he did, he’d no doubt be appalled at his thoughtlessness in practically abandoning her at the front door.

  As if reading her mind, Maxine laid a hand on her shoulder and urged her toward the sweeping staircase that curved up to the second floor. “Don’t mind him, darlin’,” she said breezily. “The first thing you gotta know about the boss is that beneath all that growl, the man’s a cupcake. Not—” she rolled her eyes “—that he’d ever admit it, you understand.”

  “Of course not,” Susan murmured, despite the fact that in the short time she’d known Sterling, the word cupcake had never, ever, entered her mind in regard to him. But then again, she really didn’t know him, she reminded herself yet again as she followed Maxine down an open, airy hallway and through a door that opened to the left.

  “Oh, my,” she said for the second time in ten minutes. The room—her bedroom, she realized—was beautiful. It was decorated in soft shades of blue, white and yellow. Like the rest of the house that she’d seen so far, it was also light and airy. It had a high ceiling, cream-colored walls, gleaming white wood molding, and a pale wood floor covered with a gorgeous Oriental rug.

  There was a queen-size bed, a beautiful cherrywood chiffonier and matching dresser, while a sitting room area boasted a couch, tables and a lovely easy chair set before a small, marble fireplace. Windows ran the length of one wall, overlooking the back of the house. Down below was a pool and an enormous patio. There was a sweep of green lawn that was bordered by a white railed fence. Inside, a dozen glossy-coated horses industriously cropped grass.

  “Pretty room, isn’t it?” Maxine said cheerfully. “My daughter Dorrie decorated it. It was her thank-you to Sterling for putting her through design school.”

  Susan smoothed her hand over the plush satin comforter, digesting that bit of information. “She’s obviously very talented. Is she your only child?”

  “Lord, no! There’s Carter, he’s a lawyer, and my twins, Gene and Lon, who both went into engineering.

  Then comes Phyllis, who just got her teaching degree, and then Dorrie. She’s the baby.”

  “What an accomplished group. You must be very proud of them.”

  “Oh, I am. They’re not only good people, they’re all doin’ real well. Of course, part of that last is due to the boss, since he insisted on payin’ their way through school.” She chuckled. “But then, I’m sure you don’t want to be hearin’ about that. Get me started on all the good that man does and we could be here the rest of the day.”

  “We could?”

  “Oh, absolutely,” the housekeeper confirmed. “You can hardly make a move without trippin’ over one of his special projects.”

  “Like what?” Susan knew it was impolite to gossip, but she couldn’t stop the question.

  “Well...” Maxine considered a moment, then brightened. “See those horses out there?” She gestured toward the windows. “Old and retired, every dad-blamed one. The boss takes them in and makes sure they get first-rate care, seeing to it they live out their lives in comfort.” She shook her head. “Like I said, he’s a good man. He’ll be a wonderful daddy,” she assured Susan, with sudden fervor. “You just wait and see.”

  As if embarrassed by her outburst, she suddenly turned brusque. “Now, let me show you the layout here. That—” she pointed at a door set in the wall to the left of the bed “—is to the walk-in closet, while this—” she opened a door barely noticeable in the creamy paneling “—leads into the bathroom.”

  Susan dutifully walked over and glanced in, feeling like Cinderella getting a tour of the palace as she looked around at the lavish space. Past a mirrored dressing area, a set of double doors were open to a gleaming white marble floor. There was a long black granite counter with two sinks and gleaming gold fixtures and another door that she assumed led to the toilet. A curving glassblock wall provided privacy for an etched glass shower enclosure and a huge oval tub big enough for five people.

  Maxine padded across the thick pile of the carpet and opened a door set in the opposite wall. “This place was built by a transplanted Englishman,” she explained. “I guess connected bedrooms are some sort of British thing ’cuz as you can see, this opens onto the boss’s.”

  “Ah,” Susan said, trying not to sound as daunted as she felt at the discovery that he was going to be so close—or that she was expected to share a bathroom with him. Grateful all over again that she wasn’t suffering from morning sickness, she joined Maxine and looked around. His room was twice the size of hers, was furnished i
n navy and white with a touch of burgundy and had a similar view. She couldn’t help the thought that it was unabashedly masculine—just like him.

  “I could’ve put you across the hall,” Maxine said as she shut the door and led the way back into Susan’s room. “But you two are married and there’s nothing like a little proximity to help two people get better acquainted, if you know what I mean.” She sent Susan a knowing smile. “Besides, like I told the boss, this way the gals who come to clean once a week won’t have anything to talk about. Now, I’ll give you a few minutes to freshen up. Then we should have just enough time that I can show you the rest of the place before supper.”

  “Supper?” Susan’s stomach immediately rumbled at the mention of food. When she stopped to think about it, she realized that she hadn’t eaten all day. Dismayed for the baby’s sake, she said gratefully, “That sounds wonderful.”

  Maxine smiled. “Good. I’ll just run down to check on the roast and then I’ll be back up to take you on that tour. Is there anything you need before I go?”

  Susan hesitated. “Actually,” she said, crossing to the bed where she’d set her things and picking up her wedding bouquet, “do you think you could put this in the refrigerator? Sterling got it for me and I—I’d like to enjoy the flowers just a little while longer.” She knew it was probably a silly request, but they were so pretty...

  “I’d be glad to, honey.” Maxine took the ribbonwrapped gardenias from her hand and made a tsking sound, her eyes suddenly misting. “That man,” she said softly as she headed for the door. “He tries to fight it, but at heart he’s just a big ole romantic.”

  Suzanne wasn’t sure she believed that. Yet it was nice to hear all the same. She wasn’t sure why, exactly. Maybe it was because Maxine seemed like such a normal, levelheaded human being. If she was convinced Susan’s new husband was such a prince, how bad could he really be?