A Millionaire for Cinderella(16)

“You do matter,” Stuart whispered.

She hated the way his words warmed her from the inside out. More so, how she couldn’t help following them up with a pitiful “I do?”

“Yeah, you do.” His thumb brushed her cheek, chasing away tears she didn’t know had fallen. “And you deserved better.”

She was too tired to argue otherwise. He’d asked for her story and she’d told him. “If you want me to leave, I will,” she told him. She’d lied, and deception came with a price. Thankfully she’d squirreled away enough money so she wouldn’t have to worry about living on the streets this time around. If she kept her expenses low, she’d be all right. She was a survivor.

“You don’t have to leave,” Stuart told her. “We all have things in our past we regret.”

Tears turned her vision watery, but they were happy tears this time. “Thank you...I know I should have told the truth from the start, but I was afraid if Ana knew what I was, she would want nothing to do with me. And then, of course, you arrived, talking about how you didn’t trust me and...”

“I was pretty inexorable, wasn’t I?”

“If that’s your way of saying you were acting like a jerk?” She was finally beginning to relax. “Then yeah.”

“I’m sorry about that. You can blame Gloria.”

Right. The step-grandmother. “I think I’m beginning to dislike her as much as you do.”

“Trust me, that’s not possible.”

It was, once again, a comfortable silence wrapping around them. Patience felt lighter than she had in months—since the day she accepted the job, really. It was as if a thousand pounds had been lifted from her shoulders. Maybe, if she was lucky, the rest of her story would die a silent death, and she could enjoy that relief, as well.

“It’s late,” Stuart said. “You look exhausted.”

She was drained. And sad, in spite of her relief. This wasn’t how she’d expected the night to end. There had been magic in the air on that dance floor. For a little while she’d felt like Cinderella at the ball. But it was time to come back to reality. Having told her story, there was no way Stuart would ever look at her the same way again.

How could he? She was no longer a housekeeper; she was a housekeeper who used to take her clothes off for money.

“If it’s all right with you, I think I’m going to go to bed.”

“Yes, of course. I’ll see you tomorrow. Good night.”

“Good night.” She had moved to leave when the need to say one last thing stopped her. “Thank you again for understanding.” He’d probably never know how much it meant to her. On so many levels.

She expected a simple you’re welcome in return, mainly because there didn’t seem to be anything more to say. But Stuart didn’t utter a word. Instead, his hand reached out to cradle her cheek. Patience’s breath caught. How could a man’s touch be so gentle and yet so strong? Her body yearned to lean into his hand. To close her eyes and let his strength hold her up. He swept his thumb across her cheekbone, stopping at the top of her scar. After what felt like forever, his hand dropped away. “Good night.”

Patience’s heart was racing so fast she was convinced it would reach her bedroom first. Twice in two nights, she’d come dangerously close to breaking the rules when it came to keeping her distance. The third time, she might not be able to walk away.



He’d wanted to know her secret. He finally did and, man, was it a doozy. Never in a million years would he have imagined Patience was...had been...he couldn’t even think the word. That she’d been forced to make those kinds of choices... It made him sick to his stomach to think that in this day and age she’d felt there was no other way.

Took guts, what she’d done. And strength. Real strength. She was barely an adult and yet she’d kept her family together.

If her story was true, that is, and not some ploy for sympathy.

Immediately, he shook the distrust from his head. Damn, but he’d become such a skeptical jerk. Patience was telling the truth. He saw it in her eyes. At least he wanted to believe that’s what he was seeing. He wanted to believe her as badly as he wanted to hold her. Which, he thought, washing a hand over his face, was pretty damn bad.

They were two very scary realizations.



“Nigel, why do you insist on being in the one place that makes doing my job difficult?” Patience narrowed her eyes at the cat, who, as usual, was ignoring her question. He was too busy poking at imaginary enemies in Ana’s dresser drawer.

It’d been twelve long days since the dinner dance, and she was finally starting to believe that she was keeping her job. Stuart hadn’t brought up the confession again. Of course, he also made himself as scarce as possible. He was on his way out the door when she woke up, and away until she went to bed. Except for that first morning when they’d recapped the dance for Ana, he’d even taken to keeping a different visiting schedule. None of his avoidance surprised her. Understanding was one thing, wanting to associate with her was another.

Back at the club, they had a saying: Prince Charming ain’t walking through that door. No matter how good-looking or how amazing some guy might seem, the two of you weren’t going to ride off into the sunset on his white horse. She was smart enough to know the same rule applied to housekeepers and their bosses. Say she and Stuart had slept together that night. It wouldn’t have been anything more than a short-term fling, right? Being help with benefits wasn’t her style. What self-respect she had, she’d like to keep, thank you very much.

So Stuart avoiding her was a good thing. Honestly.

“Will you quit it?” She found a way out of her thoughts in time to catch Nigel snagging the lace on a pair of Ana’s undergarments. “I’m pretty sure Ana wants her clothes unmolested,” she said. The cat pawed at the air as she took the panties away and refolded them. Feeling bad that she’d disturbed his fun, Patience scratched behind his ear. She had a feeling part of Nigel’s more-than-usual peskiness was because he missed Ana. Their promise to bring him for visits, it turned out, had been a bad idea. Nigel treated the rehab facility as he did the brownstone and wandered at will. It had taken her almost an hour to find out what room he had moved into for naptime.

“Ana will be home in another few days. In the meantime, how about you give me ten more minutes, and then we’ll have a good long petting session.”

As usual, Nigel wasn’t interested in bargaining. He wanted his attention and he wanted it now. Somehow he managed to wedge his head and paws into the drawer opening, and began chewing on something.

Patience rolled her eyes. “What are you doing now? Please tell me you’re not trying to eat Ana’s underwear.” She opened the drawer and saw that the cat had found a box and was attempting to bite the corner of the cover. Her sorting and taking things the past few days must have unearthed it from the bottom of the drawer.

“You really do want to eat everything in sight, don’t you?” Lifting them both free, she plopped Nigel on the bed before placing the box on the bureau. As soon as she was finished, she’d put the box back safely at the bottom of the drawer.

A knock sounded behind her. “Somehow I didn’t picture you as a granny panties kind of girl,” Stuart said. The sound of his voice made her stomach tumble. Swallowing back the reaction, she glanced over her shoulder. “I’m putting away Ana’s laundry and packing some new items. You know, for a woman with expensive tastes, she has the most disorganized drawers I’ve ever seen.”

It didn’t skip Patience’s notice that only a week before, he would have questioned what she was doing rather than make a joke. While she was touched by the show of trust, she sort of missed the protection her defensiveness gave her. When he was nice, it made keeping her distance that much harder.

“Surprised to see you here so early,” she said. Here at all, really.

“We closed shop early for the holiday, and since Ana takes her post Physical Therapy nap around this time, I figured I’d work at home.”

“That’s right, tomorrow’s Fourth of July.” With all the coming and going, she’d forgotten the date. “Ana told me once how she usually has a barbecue on the roof deck.”

“Barbecue in the sense that she has a caterer bring in barbecued chicken,” Stuart replied. “She and her humane society buddies have been doing it for years.”

“She must be devastated to have to cancel.”

“Not as much as you’d think. Last I heard, Ethyl was moving the event to the rehab hospital.”

Patience envisioned Ana, Ethyl and the others invading the rehab terrace with their catered dinner and cocktails. “Maybe I should be devastated on behalf of the hospital.”

“Don’t be. I’m sure there’s a donation involved.” He sat down on the edge of the bed. It was the longest and closest they’d been together since the dance. Patience studied the hands clasped between his legs. All too clear was the memory of those hands holding her close. Fingers burning a hole in the fabric of her dress. She turned back to the underwear drawer.