Cinderella's Tycoon

by Caroline Cross

  As she picked up her purse and started toward the bathroom, Susan realized only time would tell.

  Sterling stood at the back fence in the gathering dusk, stroking Cassandra’s silky forehead. As the leggy mare leaned into him, he felt some of his tension fade away.

  This was his favorite time of day. It always seemed there was one magical moment as the sun slowly sank over the horizon when the breeze subsided and the birds fell silent and everything went still in anticipation of the approaching night.

  “Boss? Dinner’s ready!”

  Everything but Maxine, he corrected, grimacing as the mare gave a startled jerk at the housekeeper’s bellowed summons.

  With a sigh of resignation, he straightened. This dinner might be the very last thing he wanted, but there was no way short of outright rudeness to avoid it. And now that he’d had some time to compose himself, he was confident he could handle it. They were merely going to share a meal, after all. What could possibly happen?

  “Boss? Come on!”

  He handed Cassie one last section of apple, gave her velvety nose a final stroke and pushed away from the fence. Ignoring the mare’s whiffle of protest, he strode across the back lawn toward the flagstone terrace that stretched the length of the house, ending in a series of shallow steps that led down to the swimming pool.

  Susan, he saw, was already seated at the patio table. She’d changed into a pair of close-fitting brown slacks and a soft, apricot-colored top. The colors looked great with her fair skin and gleaming, shot-with-fire hair. As he made a quick trip to the cabana to wash up, he found himself wondering exactly what had happened to her between the time he’d proposed and the time she’d shown up for the wedding. Whatever it was, he wished she’d knock it off. Looking at her was...distracting.

  Yeah? So don’t look.

  It was good advice. Unfortunately it was also totally unrealistic, since the first thing she did when he dropped into the padded chair across from her was look up, fix her big brown eyes on him and smile her self-effacing smile. “Hi.”

  Only a total bastard wouldn’t respond. Since he wasn’t quite that far gone, he nodded at her. “‘Evening.” He settled his napkin on his lap, relieved as Maxine bore down on them carrying a large tray.

  The older woman set it on the table with a clatter. “Well, even if I do say so myself, you two are in for a treat. It’s not every day that I go to all the trouble to fix my special beef tenderloin with all the trimmings. And tonight it’s turned out perfect.”

  “It smells divine,” Susan said as Maxine handed her a loaded plate.

  “She’s right,” Sterling agreed with a glance at the thinly sliced roast beef, grilled potatoes and rainbow assortment of fruits and melons on his own plate. “But it would taste a whole lot better if you’d turn off that racket,” he added, referring to the passionate ballad that had begun to pour from the outside stereo speakers a few minutes earlier.

  “But I like it,” the housekeeper protested, her expression serene as she set a basket of rolls and a pitcher of iced tea on the table. “Music is good for the soul.”

  He glanced pointedly at the candles that flickered romantically in the center of the table, letting her know that he knew what she was trying to do and he didn’t appreciate it. “So is being employed.”

  To his disgust, Maxine just laughed. “I’ll turn it down, boss,” she said as she sauntered away. “But that’s all.”

  “Yeah, you do that,” he said to her departing back.

  Abruptly aware of the relative silence, he glanced over to find Susan watching him, an indecipherable look on her face. She said nothing however, and the moment passed as they turned their attention to the food.

  Around them, the twilight was deepening, while overhead stars were beginning to appear. And though they made small talk during the meal, it wasn’t until Maxine returned, served the cake and announced she was getting ready to leave for the evening that their conversation touched on anything personal.

  “So...did you get your business taken care of?” Susan asked, idly stroking her thumb against her iced tea glass.

  “More or less.”

  The call into his main office had been routine. The call to his attorney had been less so. As expected, the man had been horrified he hadn’t gotten a prenup. And when Sterling had pointed out that he didn’t give a damn about the money, that he could always make more, he could’ve sworn he heard the lawyer gnashing his teeth.

  His call to Greg Hunt hadn’t been nearly as satisfying. Apparently Greg’s call to him had been to let him know that Princess Anna and her son were safely set up in an apartment off Main Street. And that he’d gone ahead with his plan to hide the princess in plain sight by having her work at a local café. While Sterling still wasn’t wild about the idea—if it had been left up to him he would have made sure that the princess was shown every luxury—he hadn’t argued about it, figuring that Greg must know what he was doing.

  Besides, at the moment he was preoccupied with a certain little redheaded problem of his own.

  He cleared his throat. “Did Maxine show you around?”

  “Yes. It’s such a beautiful house, Sterling. And the grounds, all this green... I have to confess, I’m finding it hard to believe I’m really going to live here.”

  She wasn’t the only one. “Yeah, well...you’ll get used to it.”

  “I guess.” Leaving her cake uneaten, she yawned and tucked her legs beneath her, settling deeper into the chair. “Have you been here long?”

  He stifled a surge of impatience. Even though he would prefer not to talk about himself, he understood her curiosity. After all, they were going to have a child together. “Almost four years.” He hesitated, then added reluctantly, “I had a place in Pine Valley—” he named Royal’s most exclusive enclave, a gated community of mostly Georgian mansions “—but I sold it after my divorce.”

  She was silent. He braced, certain she was going to ask about his previous marriage, only to be pleasantly surprised as she changed the subject. “Did you grow up around here?”

  “Pretty much.” Relaxing a little more—this was nothing he couldn’t handle—he moved his chair back from the table and stretched out his legs. “I’m from Midland.”

  “Oh?” Susan absently tucked a shiny lock of hair behind her ear. In the flickering candlelight, her skin looked as smooth and creamy as. the finest porcelain. “Do you still have family there?”

  “No. I never knew my dad, he was long gone before I was born. There’s only my mom, and she lives in Florida now.”

  “Does she know about the baby?”

  “No. Not yet.” He didn’t add that since he’d bought his mother a house in Miami and provided her with a generous retirement fund, he rarely heard from her. Or that she probably wouldn’t care about the baby one way or another, since she’d never been particularly interested in children—hers or anyone else’s. No reason to bore Susan with the family skeletons tonight. He took a sip of iced tea. “What about you? Where are you from?”

  “Me?” She said it as if it hadn’t occurred to her he might have questions of his own.

  “That’s right.” He didn’t try to keep the dry note from entering his voice. “It’s pretty obvious from the way you talk you’re not from around here.”

  “I suppose it is, at that,” she said with a quick, unexpected smile. “I’m from Oregon. Like you, I’m an only child.” She was silent a moment, then added, “I lost my parents in a car accident my sophomore year of college.”

  It wasn’t what he expected. “I’m sorry. That must’ve been tough.”

  “It was, but it’s been nine years and after a while, most of the hurt goes away. Mostly, it’s just...lonely.”

  He looked at her sharply, surprised by her statement and by a fleeting sense of affinity. If there was one thing he knew about, it was loneliness. Sometimes, he felt as if he’d been alone all of his life.

  Not that he had any intention of saying so. Instead he took another s
ip of his drink, set down the glass and said, “Is that why you decided to have a baby?”

  The question seemed to startle her. “Because I was lonely?” She considered a moment, then answered decisively. “No.”

  “Then why?”

  “I just always wanted a family. Mine was so happy, and growing up I always expected that someday I’d have children of my own.”

  “Even without a husband?” He didn’t try to hide his opinion of that.

  She gave a faint, good-natured sigh. “I’m twenty-eight years old and work in the Royal Library. No one was exactly breaking down my door. I guess—” her voice once again grew thoughtful “—I guess I was afraid that if I waited much longer, I’d wake up one day and it would be too late altogether.”

  He felt another unexpected tug of kinship as he thought briefly about the void he’d felt in his own life recently. “I see.”

  She was silent a moment “What about you? I mean, I understand that the lab messed up, but given how you feel, why did you decide to become a donor?”

  “I didn’t,” he said flatly, hating to explain but knowing she had a right to ask. “My wife—my first wife—couldn’t conceive. We went to the Clinic for help.”

  There was another long silence before she said quietly, “I’m sorry. That must have been difficult.”

  There was no curiosity in her voice, just empathy, and for a second he had an inexplicable urge to tell her the whole story. Sanity returned almost instantly, however. Glad for the darkness that hid his expression, he scowled, struck afresh by the thought that she was not what he’d expected. And by the disturbing realization that if he wasn’t careful, the unfortunate effect she had on his libido could be the least of his problems.

  Not that she’d gotten to him tonight. She hadn’t—despite what had just almost happened. There was a simple explanation, and it was that the last four weeks had been stressful. He was tired. When you added that to the fact that he’d been working too hard the past few years to have much in the way of a love life, it also explained his earlier difficulty and why his body had...overreacted.

  But it wouldn’t happen again. He’d never been the sort of man to be ruled by either impulse or his physical passions, and he wasn’t about to start now.

  “Sterling?”

  He tensed. “What?”

  “I just wondered—” she paused to cover her mouth as another yawn overtook her “—what is it you do exactly?”

  Abruptly he relaxed, once more on safe and solid ground. “You sure you really want to hear about that?”

  “Yes.”

  Although he knew it was probably juvenile, he couldn’t deny there was a part of him that was flattered by her interest. “I guess I’m what you’d call a kind of venture capitalist. I invest in people or businesses that have ideas that conventional banks deem too high risk.”

  “Goodness. How did you ever get started doing that?”

  “I did a stint in the military, and that helped some with college, so I was able to save some money. A man I knew, a rancher I’d worked for in high school, had an idea for a new, low-cost, high-efficiency windmill. When he couldn’t get financing, I gave him my savings in return for a share of future profits. The thing hit—that’s his design that’s pumping water out by the lake—and we both made money. That got me started and now I have interests in all sorts of things.”

  “Gosh,” Susan said softly, sounding genuinely impressed.

  Overhead a star streaked across the midnight blue bowl of the sky. He heard her draw in her breath when it was followed by a second, and then a third, signaling the start of a meteor shower.

  They both fell silent as they gazed at the spectacle overhead. The wind picked up slightly, setting off some wind chimes Maxine had hung beneath the eaves. By the time Sterling reluctantly looked away, he was surprised to find that his watch showed it was already half past nine. Clearing his throat, he glanced over at Susan. “You about ready to go in?”

  She didn’t answer. “Susan?” Narrowing his eyes, he studied her as best he could in the darkness and, as the candlelight shifted, finally saw that her eyes were closed, her body still and relaxed.

  It didn’t take a genius to realize she was asleep.

  He considered his options. He supposed he could fetch a blanket, cover her up and simply leave her there. Of course, if he did he really would qualify as a first-class bastard.

  He swallowed a sigh. Climbing to his feet, he closed the short distance between them and gave her a gentle shake, determined not to notice how soft and warm she felt beneath his fingertips. “Susan?”

  Her eyelids slowly lifted. “Hmm?”

  “Come on.” He gave her a moment, then tugged her carefully upright. “I’ll walk you into the house.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said, yawning. “I guess I fell asleep. Sometimes lately I can’t seem to keep my eyes open. I just get so tired...”

  “No problem.” Or at least it wouldn’t be if she’d just hold still. Instead she swayed unsteadily on her feet. With a sinking feeling, he realized she was still far from wide-awake. “Here. Take my arm.”

  “’Kay.” She leaned against his arm. Then, to his dismay, she just kept on going, until she was propped bonelessly against the curve of his body. “Thanks,” she said drowsily, her hand clutching the small of his back for balance.

  He took a few careful steps, swearing under his breath as she unsteadily kept pace, bumping against him from armpit to thigh with every step.

  Well, damn. At this rate, it would take them all night to get in the house. Either that, or they’d fall flat on their faces and never make it at all.

  Neither prospect was attractive. Particularly given the way his body was reacting. So much for his vaunted control, he thought sarcastically, fighting a primitive urge to turn, bury his face in her neck, drink in her scent and press himself fully against her soft, warm curves.

  He stopped walking abruptly. “Susan?”

  “Hmm?”

  “This isn’t working.”

  “Oh.”

  “Hold still.” Before he could change his mind, he turned and scooped her into his arms.

  Unfortunately, unlike yesterday she didn’t stiffen, even for an instant. Instead she gave a faint sigh and nestled closer, her cheek resting trustingly against the curve of his shoulder. “Sterling?” she murmured, her breath tickling against his neck.

  “What?”

  “Thanks.”

  Gritting his teeth, he set off for the house, vowing with every step that he was going to learn from this mistake.

  From now on, there’d be no more candlelit dinners, no more moonlight talks, no more... touching. Instead he’d stick to his plan and give her a wide berth.

  She might be the mother of his child, but that was all.

  As for the unexpected twinge of protectiveness he felt as he looked down at her sleeping face...

  It didn’t mean a thing.

  Four

  Some women were just naturally beautiful first thing in the morning.

  Unfortunately she wasn’t one of them, Susan thought ruefully, staring at herself in the bathroom mirror.

  As often happened, her impossibly slippery hair had escaped its bedtime ponytail and was tumbled wildly around her face. Her cheek sported a pillow crease, while her eyelids were still heavy from sleep. Why, even the cornflower blue top of her baby doll pajamas was askew, exposing one pale white shoulder.

  She shook her head in resignation. So much for the rumored pregnancy glow. She looked like she’d been caught by one of the West Texas whirlwinds that often tore across the open range.

  Not that she was complaining, she reflected, touching a hand to her still-flat stomach. She didn’t care what she looked like as long as she had a healthy baby. And things could be worse. At least she didn’t have to worry about anyone seeing her in this condition. Maxine never ventured upstairs until midmorning. As for Sterling, she’d barely seen him long enough to say more than a quick “hell
o” since they’d had dinner that first evening. He’d been on his way out when she’d come downstairs the next morning, had worked late that night, then repeated the pattern yesterday.

  Straightening her pajama top, she acknowledged a slight sense of disappointment. On the one hand, she realized he had a multimillion-dollar empire to run. And that given the suddenness of their marriage, it probably wasn’t fair to expect him to take time off from work, particularly since Maxine had told her that he’d just gotten back from a spur-of-die-moment trip to Europe

  Yet at the same time, he didn’t seem to mind not seeing her—and that bothered her. It was also rather perplexing, since she’d been under the impression that dinner on Wednesday night had gone very well. Although she’d been nervous, she’d enjoyed the evening and had thought Sterling had. enjoyed it, too. Why, by the time they’d looked up to watch that flurry of shooting stars, she’d believed they were finally off to a good start.

  Apparently she’d been wrong.

  If only she hadn’t fallen asleep, she thought with a mixture of guilt and regret as she picked up a hairbrush and began the laborious task of wrestling her hair back into a ponytail. While honesty forced her to admit she’d enjoyed being carried into the house securely cradled in Sterling’s strong arms, her common sense told her that nodding off in a man’s company on your first night together probably wasn’t the best way to endear yourself to him.

  Not that she wanted to endear herself to Sterling. She didn’t, she was quick to assure herself. Any more than she expected that they were going to have a conventional marriage—at least, not at first.

  What she did expect was for them to make an effort to get to know each other. And not because she had some impossibly naive hope that they’d fall madly in love with each other, either. No, she wanted to get better acquainted with Sterling for the sake of their child. After all, what sort of homelife would their baby have if its parents were no more than polite strangers?

  The answer to that was obvious, she thought, as she finished brushing her teeth and dampened a washcloth to scrub her face. It was also unacceptable. She wanted what was best for this child, and that was to have parents who were friends and allies—if not more.