Cinderella and the Spy

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Cinderella and the Spy Page 9

by Sally Tyler Hayes


  She’d retreated into a protective shell in the last year, withdrawing from everyone around her, ashamed and embarrassed and lost. She had friends, but she’d made the mistake of pushing just about everyone away. Her parents cared, but they weren’t close by and found travel difficult. So they made do with phone calls and letters, which wasn’t the same as having a living, breathing person beside her, worrying over her, feeling the need to take care of her when she’d been so lost.

  But Josh was here, right behind her. Still not touching her, but she knew he was there. She had radar where he was concerned. She could almost feel his desire to touch her, could feel herself giving in to that idea, her need for him growing.

  “I guess this whole mess with Rob hit me harder than I thought,” she said, trying to stall, because it scared her, how fast this thing between them had surged out of control.

  He didn’t say anything. He was waiting with more patience than she would have believed possible. But she still needed to talk, to understand. She was still resisting all that he had to offer.

  “It’s only natural, don’t you think? That I’d be upset? Unhappy?”

  “For a while,” he conceded. “But you haven’t been happy for a long, long time, Amanda, and I’m damned sick and tired of standing by and watching you miserable and all alone.”

  “Oh,” she said, her tears falling faster. She wanted him to care, she realized. She needed for someone to care enough to help her.

  “Amanda.” His voice was low and strained.

  She knew what he was asking, just as she knew it was up to her to make the first move. She eased back a fraction of an inch, felt his big, solid body coming into contact with hers.

  “It’s okay,” she said.

  His arms slid around her. “That’s it,” he said. “Lean on me.”

  She did, finding her body cradled against his. A solid mass of man and muscle and heat behind her, wonderfully strong arms embracing her. She could collapse right now and be perfectly safe. He wouldn’t let her fall. She didn’t have to be so strong, didn’t have to go through this alone. It was as if someone had lifted a weight off her body, as if there’d been a concrete block parked on her chest, a burden she’d carried around for a solid year, all by herself, and he’d taken it away. He was here, and he was so much stronger than she was, so much more capable. He was capable of just about anything.

  She let her head fall back against his chest and shoulder, sighing when she felt his lips brush against her temple, softly, sweetly, comfortingly. He bent his head, pressing his cheek to her temple. She relaxed completely in his embrace, never having felt so safe in her entire life. There was still the energy, the awareness, but it was banked by a disarming dose of tenderness, gentleness, kindness. She never imagined finding those qualities in such extravagant quantities in him, but there they were. There was no mistaking what he was offering at this moment. No mistaking, either, that he knew her much better than she ever imagined.

  Had he been waiting, as well? To step in like this? To try to help her? Or waiting for something else? Waiting to take her to bed with him?

  “You’re worrying again,” he murmured. “You managed to relax for a whole minute or so, and then you tensed up again. Why don’t you turn around and put your arms around me and relax. Just for a little while longer.”

  She blew out a shaky breath, knowing she was in the danger zone now. She was totally captivated by him, totally at his mercy. “Josh—”

  “Turn around. I need to see your face.”

  She did, wondering if she was destined to always do what he wanted eventually. He loosened his hold, and she slid around in his arms, finding him not even a breath away. Blazing blue eyes gazed down at her, his lips a heartbeat away. He held her snugly against him, one of his hands at the side of her face.

  “I meant what I said that night at the beach. It’s time to let it all go. Forget about that man. Forgive yourself for whatever it is you think you did wrong and get on with your life.”

  “It’s not that simple. I don’t now how I’ll ever trust anyone again.”

  “You trust me, don’t you? You know me. You know what I’m like. I’m an up-front kind of guy. I’ll tell you exactly what I want in this relationship. I won’t lie to you, and I won’t make promises I don’t intend to keep.”

  “So what is this all about, Josh. What do you want?”

  “You. I’ve always wanted you,” he groaned. “You never even gave me the time of day.”

  Of course not. She’d been too smart for that. At least, she thought she’d been smart. But what had she done instead? She’d been with Rob, the liar, the traitor, the man who’d used her and then left her to face the mess he’d made all by herself. There was nothing Josh could do to hurt her a fraction as much as Rob had, she realized. Josh wouldn’t. He wasn’t that kind of man.

  Josh would leave her eventually, and that would hurt. But how did a broken sexual liaison ever compare to falling in love with a man, planning a life with him, a marriage and children and all that went along with it, then seeing it had all been a lie. Rob had never loved her, never intended to marry her. He’d used her, and she must have made it so easy for him. A man she knew died because of Rob, and other people were hurt, people she cared about.

  “Ouch,” Josh said. “What was that? What were you just thinking?”

  “About how wrong I was thinking I was so much safer with a man like Rob than I would be with you. You’d never hurt me like that.”

  “Not in a million years,” he promised.

  She thought he would have kissed her then, then realized he wasn’t going to do that. He’d made her a promise, and he wouldn’t come an inch closer without an invitation, one she felt inclined to give. But before that, there were details to discuss. She wanted to be absolutely clear about what this was.

  “You want me in your bed? What else?”

  “I want to see you smile again, Amanda. I want to make you happy. I can do that. I know I can.”

  “For a while?” she asked.

  “For as long we both want to be with each other.”

  “You have a short attention span, Josh.”

  He drew in a breath. She felt his chest rise and fall, let herself lay her head against his shoulder and slide her arms around him more tightly, holding him close, to soften the criticism in her words.

  “I’ve waited a long time for you,” he said. “So if this is going to happen—you and me—it’s going to take some time. I want to know every inch of you. I want to please you in a way no man ever has before. I want to spoil you, take care of you. I can make you happy, Amanda. I wouldn’t be doing this if I didn’t think I could be good for you. But I’m not the kind of man who’s going to put a ring on your finger. If that’s what you want, what you honestly think you need, I’ll back off. I don’t want anything from you that you’re not willing to give.”

  “I don’t know what I want, Josh.”

  He backed up, cupping her chin in his hand, his exquisitely gentle hands, bringing his face in close, until they were practically nose to nose, and he gave her a little smile. “Think about it, all right? I won’t push.”

  “You? Not push?”

  His lips formed into a mischievous smile. “I’ll consider it a test of my willpower. I do have some, you know.”

  “I’m sure you do. I just don’t think it’s ever been seriously tested.”

  “Then this will be good for me, too,” he said.

  She laughed a bit. “You’re incorrigible.”

  He nodded. “And you’re laughing. Doesn’t it feel good?”

  There it went again—that little zing of emotion, zipping right through her. That warm, tingly feeling. The dangerous one. She was important to him. Her happiness meant something to him.

  “Oh, Josh.” It was all she could manage. He’d taken her breath away.

  “I do care about you. Promise.”

  “I’m glad,” she said. “I need someone to care about me right now.�
��

  “Then it’s a good thing I’m here.”

  She snuggled against him, thinking that she could have the right to be here, any time she wanted. He would be generous with his affection. She shivered a bit, thinking of being indulged by Josh, physically and emotionally. He’d be extravagantly attentive, lavishly attentive. He could spoil a woman like no one else.

  “I like this,” she confessed. “I…I don’t think anyone’s touched me in a long time.”

  She felt his chest slowly rise and fall with the force of a long, deep breath, wondered if her words had any power over him, if she could touch him, just as deeply as he touched her.

  Finally, quietly, he said, “Then I’m your man, Amanda.”

  She buried her head in the side of his neck, finding warm, smooth, sun-browned skin and that smell she loved so much. She thought about nuzzling her cheek against the underside of his jaw or pressing the tip of her nose flat against his neck, toying with his ear, maybe even kissing him herself, all on her own.

  All this time, she thought. She could have been with Josh.

  It thrilled her, almost as much as it unnerved her, thinking of what he might expect from her, what he might demand. She had no doubts that he’d be a demanding lover, that he could please her in every way imaginable, and lots of doubts about whether she could please him. Lots of insecurities about all the women he’d been with and the things he’d done. There probably wasn’t anything he didn’t know, which made her wonder what she had to give him.

  “I’m afraid if we… Well, that you’d be disappointed.”

  “With you?” he growled.

  She nodded.

  “No way,” he said, sounding the way he almost always did—completely sure of himself.

  “But, Josh—”

  “It’s not a test, Amanda. I’m not giving you a grade. It’s about enjoying each other, exploring, learning, pleasing each other. I want very much to please you, and I know I can. I know I’ll find the whole thing quite pleasing myself. I have no doubts about that, and you shouldn’t, either.”

  She sighed and snuggled closer, loath to give up this spot. He had a way of making the most outrageous things sound perfectly reasonable. Reach for him, and he’d be hers. He’d take care of her. Make everything all better, for a little while. She shivered, thinking about Josh, utterly intent on pleasing her.

  “I have to think about it,” she said, moving it into the realm of possibility.

  “And here I thought I’d rip this pretty blouse off you and have you for breakfast,” he said, deadpan.

  And she laughed. He was right, she hadn’t laughed in a long time.

  “That’s better,” he said, giving her a blazing smile. “Take whatever time you need. I’ll be here.”

  “You’re so sure I’ll agree?”

  “I usually manage to get people to come around to my way of thinking, sooner or later.”

  Amanda nodded, thinking maybe it was inevitable. He always got what he wanted. She used to think that was a bad thing, but maybe she’d been wrong. Maybe it wasn’t. Maybe it was time she became more like him—reaching out and taking what she wanted, taking what life had to offer her.

  And at the moment she wanted only one thing. Him.

  Chapter 6

  “Ever hold one of these things in the palm of your hand?” Josh asked as he held out a gun to her, a polished, black, sinful-looking thing. She didn’t even want to touch it.

  “Do I have to?”

  “Yes,” he insisted.

  He’d brought her to a private, deserted firing range in Maryland, which unnerved her. So did the way she kept forgetting the danger. Josh had a way of pushing every other thought out of her head. She wanted to let herself fall completely under his spell. She nearly had until he tried to give her his gun.

  “It’s an inanimate object, Amanda. It won’t hurt you. It takes a person to load it, point it at you and pull the trigger to hurt you.”

  “I could never do that,” she said.

  “Maybe not, but if you ever change your mind, I might not be there to teach you how to use it first. You don’t want to shoot a gun for the first time when your life is on the line.”

  “I could never shoot someone,” she insisted.

  “I’m not going to make you. But humor me and at least learn how.”

  She sighed, staring at the wicked-looking thing. He was right, she supposed. Even if she didn’t like it, he was right. Still… “I hate guns.”

  Josh said nothing. He had that “nothing is going to change my mind” look on his face, and, at the moment, nothing of the easygoing man she’d always known. Odd, how she kept finding a new side to him. Odd how utterly appealing all of them were. This one, especially, Josh her protector.

  Amanda looked up at him, burnished-gold hair and bright-blue eyes and the potential for a mind-numbing grin never far away, and she complained, “You keep surprising me.”

  “And I won’t let you change the subject. Pick up the gun, Amanda. I’m not asking you to make friends with it or to like it. Just to pick it up.”

  “You said you don’t think anything’s going to happen.”

  “I don’t. But I don’t know that for sure. We plan for what we hope will happen and anything else we can imagine that might. If everything goes wrong, and you could save yourself by using this—” he held the gun right in front of her “—I want you to know how.”

  She sighed, unnerved. “I don’t know if I can.”

  “You’re not getting out of this building until you do. I mean it. And it’s time we got something else straight, too. We have two things going on here. A business relationship and a personal one. You’re in charge of the personal one, and I’m in charge of the business one. That means you will do exactly what I say, when I say it. Now pick up the gun.”

  She closed her eyes and blurted out, “My mother’s brother shot himself, Josh.”

  He waited, gun in hand, not backing down.

  “It happened when I was in grade school. They said it was an accident, but…I don’t think so. I think he meant to do it.”

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “Pick up the gun.”

  “My mother found him,” she rushed on. “I was with her. She was in front of me, so I didn’t really see much. I just remembering my mother crying in the most awful way and looking so sad and so scared. I don’t think I’d ever seen my mother scared before that day. She’s always been a little irrational where guns are concerned, and I guess I have been, too.”

  “So you have a reason for the way you feel. I understand. But don’t blame the weapon for what happened to your uncle,” Josh said evenly. “If he hadn’t had a gun, he would have used something else.”

  “But a gun is so fast, so easy. Move one finger a centimeter or so, and it’s done. There’s no time to think it over, to change your mind.”

  He frowned. For a second something flickered across his face, something he hid quickly, but still…something. Was it her imagination or had she touched a nerve?

  “People who want to kill themselves can always find a way,” he said finally.

  “Josh—”

  “Take the gun, Amanda.”

  She gave in and picked it up. It wasn’t very heavy or very big. He’d told her what kind it was, but she honestly hadn’t been paying attention, hadn’t wanted to know. He was going to Rudy’s dinner with this strapped to his ankle. Just in case.

  Amanda let it rest on its side against her palm. Even knowing it wasn’t loaded, she was still scared of it. Odd how anything could be so small and yet so deadly. Odd that he could be this way—immovable, so serious, so stern.

  “Have you ever shot anyone?” she asked, the thought just occurring to her.

  “Yes.”

  Amanda shivered. He sounded so matter-of-fact, his normally wonderful voice totally devoid of emotion. She found she couldn’t leave the subject alone. “Have you ever killed anyone?”

  “Yes.”

  She flinched. Even thin
king she was prepared for it, she couldn’t quite see it. It made her even more curious. “Have you ever been shot?”

  “Yes,” he said easily, with a wry smile. “Blows the playboy image all to hell, doesn’t it?”

  “Yes.” She looked up at him, studying his features anew. He was still much too pretty to be real. She noticed now more than ever how very imposing he was. Tall, broad-shouldered, moving with such an easy grace. But obviously, there was much more to him. “I’ve never seen you like this.”

  “You’ve only seen a little part of me, Amanda. But I’ll show you the rest, if you honestly want to know me. But not now,” he said. “For now you have to load the gun.”

  She did. He showed her how to take off the safety, how to stand, how to aim, how to fire. So she did it again and again until he was satisfied, and she hoped he was right, that nothing would go wrong and she’d never have to do this again.

  “I want her out of this,” Josh told Jamie an hour and a half later. “Rudy called her last night. She’s scared to death of him. I took her to the firing range this morning. I thought she was going to pass out the first time she fired a gun.”

  Jamie was curled up in the big chair in the corner of her office that she liked so much. “Did you figure out why this is so important to you?”

  “God, you’re annoying,” he complained, sitting down on the arm of her chair. “I don’t know how I forgot that so quickly.”

  “And you’re changing the subject. It’s not going to work.”

  “Okay. You were right yesterday. She is important to me. She’s way too vulnerable and impossibly naïve, and I should stay the hell away from her, too.”

  “But you’re not going to.”

  “I can’t,” he complained. “And before you start in on me again, I’ve been up-front with her. We had the talk. She knows exactly what I want, exactly what I have to offer her. I told her it won’t last.”

  “Josh, women don’t listen to things like that.”

  “I said it in plain English. I looked her right in the eye. She heard me. I made sure of it.”

 

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