A Millionaire for Cinderella(10)

Maybe he could find out what they were. That is, if he could keep his attraction—and his hands—to himself.



Surprisingly—or perhaps not so surprisingly—Patience left for the hospital without him. The hastily scrawled note pinned to the coffeemaker said she needed to stop at the tea shop to buy Ana her Russian caravan tea. “A reasonable excuse,” he said to Nigel. But the tea shop was only a block away, and in the direction of the hospital. He would have gladly waited while she ran her errand.

No, more likely, she wanted to avoid being in the car with him. For him to care about her decision was silly, but care he did. Why didn’t she want to ride with him?

Unfortunately, any answer had to wait because when he arrived at the hospital, his aunt was awake. Someone had raised her bed so she was sitting upright. Patience stood by her head, brushing out her hair. Stuart watched as her arm moved with long, slow strokes, each pass banishing the tangles of hospitalization. “Do you want to leave the braid down or wear it coiled?” he heard her ask.

“Coiled,” Ana replied. “Of course.”

He smiled. His aunt always insisted on looking as regal as possible. She was wearing the serenest of expressions. Her eyes were closed and the hint of a smile played across her lips. For the first time since he’d come home, she resembled the Ana he remembered.

His chest squeezed tight, his heart and lungs suddenly too big for his body. He was afraid to cough lest he spoil his aunt’s moment.

“Good morning.” The moment ended anyway, as Dr. Tischel, Ana’s primary care physician boomed his greeting from behind his shoulder. “Lapushka!” Ana greeted with a smile. “How long have you been standing there?”

“Not long. I didn’t want to disturb your beauty session.” He locked eyes with Patience only to have her break the gaze and resume brushing. “How are you this morning, Tetya?” He kissed Ana’s cheek.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “How am I, Karl?”

“Remarkably lucky, for one thing. You’re too old to be rolling down staircases. We all are.”

All the more reason not to stare at women two-thirds your age, thought Stuart. The good doctor’s gaze had locked itself to a spot below Patience’s neck. The housekeeper had angled her body toward the wall, but that didn’t stop the man’s blatant assessment.

“Will she be able to go home soon?” Stuart asked in a loud voice, drawing the man’s attention. A question to which he already knew the answer, but then he wasn’t asking because he wanted information.

“I’m afraid not,” the doctor replied. The man didn’t even have the decency to look embarrassed. “You took a nasty fall, Ana.”

He lifted the sheet from where it covered the upper part of her legs. On the leg without a cast, a large bruise turned Ana’s kneecap purple. Dr. Tischel touched around it, causing Ana to wince.

“Knee’s pretty tender,” he said, stating the obvious. “You’re definitely going to have to stay off your feet for a little while.”

“Are we talking about a wheelchair?” Stuart asked. He was having trouble imaging his great-aunt managing crutches as the moment.

“At the very least,” the doctor replied. “For a little while anyway.”

“Don’t worry,” Patience said. “I’ll push you around the house.”

“Oh no, the brownstone has way too many stairs,” Dr. Tishcel said. “That’s what got you in trouble in the first place. The rehab hospital has a terrific orthopedics wing. They’ll take good care of you.”

“What?” In spite of her pain, Ana stiffened. “You’re sending me to another hospital? For how long?”

“Depends,” Dr. Tischel replied. “At least a couple of weeks.”

“A couple weeks!” Patience and Ana spoke at the same time, although he was pretty sure their furor was for two different reasons. Stuart tensed at the announcement himself, and he’d been expecting the news since the day Ana fell. Two weeks sharing a house with Patience. Alone.

“I’m afraid so,” Dr. Tischel replied. “We want to make sure that ankle heals properly. I’ll give them a call this afternoon and check on availability. With luck there’s a bed open and we can transfer you tomorrow.

“In the meantime,” he said, pulling the sheet back over her legs, “I want you to try and sit up in a chair for a few hours.”

Ana gave an indignant cough. “Don’t know why if I’m just going to be laid up in another hospital bed.”

“Because the movement will do you good. You don’t want to develop blood clots, do you?”

“No, she does not,” Stuart answered. Seeing the doctor was getting ready to leave, he rose from his chair, hoping to keep the man from giving Patience another once-over. Granted, he shared Dr. Tischel’s appreciation of her beauty, but the woman wasn’t standing there for his viewing pleasure. He held out a hand. “Thank you for your help.”

The gambit failed as the older man shook his hand only briefly before reaching across Ana to grasp Patience’s. “It’s my pleasure. Ana has always been one of my favorite patients.”

Ana coughed again. “Favorite, my foot,” she grumbled once the doctor left. “Stupid old fool wants to stick me in a nursing home.”

“Rehab facility, Tetya.” Stuart replied. Out of the corner of his eye, he caught Patience wiping her hand on her jeans. Apparently, she wasn’t impressed with Dr. Tischel’s behavior this morning, either. “It’s only for a little while. You’ll be back at the brownstone before you know it.”

Ana shrugged. She looked so sad it made Stuart almost want to tell her Dr. Tischel had made a mistake. In a way, he understood. The news probably did sound like a sentence. She was losing her freedom.

He grabbed her fingers. “I’ll visit every day, I promise.”

“And me,” Patience said. “I’ll even find out if I can bring Nigel so you can see him, too.”

“Will you?” Ana’s face brightened. “I’ve been so worried about him. He acts tough, but on the inside, he’s really very sensitive.”

“I’ll do everything I can. I promise.”

Stuart watched while the two women talked about the cat, his chest squeezing tight again. The soft, caring tone in Patience’s voice mesmerized him. She sounded so genuine; it made him want so badly to trust her intentions.

Could he?

Just then, Patience reached over to brush a strand of hair from Ana’s face, sending his mind hurtling to the night before. Parts of his body stirred remembering how soft Patience’s hair had felt sliding through his fingers. How on earth was he going to spend two weeks with Patience, get to know her and keep his attraction under control?

“Oh, no!”

Ana’s cry shook him from his reverie. She sat straight, her face crumpled in distress. “What’s wrong, Tetya?” he asked.

“The humane society dinner dance. I totally forgot, but it’s tonight.”

Was that all? Stuart let out his breath. “Looks like you’ll have to miss this year’s festivities.”

“But I can’t,” Ana said. “I’m being honored as the volunteer of the year. I’m supposed to be there to accept my award.”

“I’m sure people will understand why you’re not there, Tetya. You can have your friend, Mrs. Calloway, accept on your behalf.”

“Ethyl Calloway is not my friend,” his aunt snapped.

Stuart should have remembered. Ana and Ethyl weren’t friends so much as friendly society rivals. The two of them had worked side by side at the Beacon Hill Humane Society for years, competing to see who could do more to further the organization’s good work. As a result, hundreds of homeless cats and dogs had found new homes. Personally, he thought it incredibly fitting that Ethyl accept the award on his aunt’s behalf, but what did he knew?

“Missing the ceremony isn’t going to diminish what you’ve done for the shelter,” Patience said. “People will still know about your hard work.”

To Patience’s credit, her comment worked. Ana settled back against her pillow, her agitation fading. “Will you accept the award for me?” she asked.

Stuart cringed. The humane society dinner dance was a nightmare of society women and their spouses who made it their mission to offer up single granddaughters to every eligible bachelor who had the misfortune of attending. Those without granddaughters used their time to strong-arm donations. The last time Ana had convinced him to attend, he’d left four figures poorer and with a pocket full of unwanted phone numbers. But the organization was Ana’s pride and joy. Accepting her award was the least he could do.

“Of course I will,” he told her.

His aunt and Patience exchanged an odd look. “What?” he asked.

“I think she meant me,” Patience said.

The blush coloring her cheeks couldn’t be as dark as the one heating his. “Oh. I didn’t...”

“I had no idea you’d be home this week,” his aunt said, her eyes looking deeply apologetic, “and you know how I hate to attend alone.”

“You’re more than welcome to go in my place,” Patience added. “I don’t mind.”