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A Millionaire for Cinderella(25)

By:Barbara Wallace


Easy to do a lot of things with, he thought with a smile.

You, pal, are in deep, aren’t you? For once, he let his subconscious speak freely. He was in deep, and, to his amazement, the thought didn’t set off alarm bells. Why should it? Patience wasn’t Gloria. Patience didn’t pretend to be something she wasn’t or tell him what she thought he wanted to hear. Instead, she was content to be with him—the real him. The one who wore thick glasses and talked about sunset differentials. Even at his most besotted, to steal his aunt’s word, Gloria didn’t make his insides feel light and joyful, the way Patience did. So, Stuart didn’t freak out at the notion he might be falling. In fact, he could see himself falling a lot deeper.

Someone cleared his throat. Stuart looked to the door, saw who it was and cringed. “Hey, Bob. Come on in.”

The overly tall, overly eager looking attorney stepped inside and closed the door behind him. No doubt meant as a gesture of confidentiality, it made Stuart wince nonetheless. “The investigator tracked down the information you needed,” he said, brandishing a thin manila envelope. “I know it took a little longer than expected, but we had a couple big cases come through, and since this was personal and you hadn’t followed up...”

“I thought I sent you an email telling you to cancel the investigation.”

“You—you did?” The color drained from Bob’s face. Associates hoping to be on the fast track hated to make mistakes, Bob more than most. “I didn’t see one.”

“A few weeks ago.” The Saturday following the dinner dance. Stuart distinctly remembered typing out the message before going to bed. Right before Nigel jumped up and demanded attention.

Damn. Was it possible he hadn’t hit Send? Now two people who didn’t need to know were aware of Patience’s secret.

Bob mistook his wiping his hand across his face for displeasure. “I am so sorry. The note must have gotten buried somehow...I...” He thrust the envelope at Stuart. “Are you sure you don’t need this information? I mean, it’s pretty interesting reading, I’ll say that.”

“You read it?”

Again Bob paled. “Um, only to make sure the report was complete. I wasn’t trying to pry...”

Like hell he wasn’t. The investigator’s notes were probably too salacious to pass up. He gave Bob a dismissive look, letting the associate know he was unhappy with his performance. “Doesn’t matter,” he made a point of saying. “I already know everything the investigator might have found.”

“You do?” Bob said. “Even the criminal record?”

Criminal record? Please no. Stuart squeezed the arms of his chair tight enough to snap them. It took every ounce of his control and then some to keep his face free of reaction. “Yes, even that.”

“Oh. Okay. I’ll go finish the brief for Greenwood then.”

“You do that,” Stuart replied. “And Bob?” Man, but it was hard to talk with nausea rising in his throat. “If you ever get a personal project from a partner again? Mind your own business.”

The associate nodded before exiting as quickly as possible. Leaving Stuart alone.

With the manila envelope.

It had to be a mistake. Patience had told him everything, right? And he trusted her.

But what if...the possibility made him gag.

Only one way to be certain. He tore open the envelope.

“Dammit!” He slammed his fist on the desk, ignoring the pain shooting to his elbow. It was nothing compared to the hurt tearing through his insides. There, fastened to the top of the report, was everything he didn’t want to know.



“All right, Nigel, let’s get this straight. This is Ana’s new bed, not yours. Meaning you will give her space to lie down when she and Stuart get home from the hospital, okay?”

Which, Patience checked the clock on the mantel, should be in an hour or so. She smoothed the wrinkles from Ana’s comforter. The setup might not be ideal, but it would work for a month. Who knows? Ana might decide she liked living on the first floor.

We can be as loud as we want. A delicious shiver ran down her spine as she remembered Stuart’s comment after Dr. O’Hara suggested the new arrangement. “Might as well make the most of what we have while we have it, right, Nigel?” she said, combing her fingers through Nigel’s fur.

Suddenly, the front door slammed with a force so hard it made the frame rattle against the wall. Stuart appeared in the doorway, wild-eyed and out of breath.

“Stuart, what’s wrong?” Instinctively, she took a step backward. He looked like a madman. The pupils in his eyes were blown wide, and while she’d seen them black with desire, she’d never seen them like this. “Did something happen to Ana?”

“Ana’s fine.”

“Then what?” This was not the man she had spent lunch sharing kisses with. This man looked like he wanted to...

Oh, no. She spied the crumpled papers in his fist. Pain began spreading across her chest, sharp like a heart attack. Why couldn’t the past have stayed buried for a little while longer?

“I can explain,” she said.

“Oh, I bet you can.” His voice had gone dead. “I bet you have a whole slew of explanations at the ready.”

“Stuart—”

“I trusted you,” he spit. “When you said you told me everything, I believed you, but you were lying.”

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “I was telling the truth.”

“Oh, yeah?” He stalked closer, waving the papers in his fist like they were a club. “Then tell me. Why do I have a police record telling me you were a prostitute?”





CHAPTER TEN

THE ACCUSATION HUNG between them, a fat, ugly cloud. Patience wished she could turn herself into Nigel. He’d run under the bed when Stuart slammed the door.

“This is what you were really hiding, wasn’t it? You didn’t want Ana to know who she’d hired. What she’d hired.”

What she’d hired? How dared he? “I am not a prostitute.”

“Your police record says otherwise.”

“Police records don’t tell the whole story.” A few sentences typed on a form. How could it possibly cover all the details?

Tell that to Stuart, though. His outburst seemed to let out some of his steam, making the anger more of a slow boil. Patience preferred the outrage. Folding his arms, he settled in a nearby chair, his eyes burning holes in her skin.

“Then by all means, enlighten me,” he said. “I can’t wait to hear the long version.”

“Why should I bother? You’ve obviously made up your mind.” Worse, she wasn’t entirely sure she could blame him after hiding the truth the way she had.

“Try me.”

Patience almost laughed, the comment was so close to his words the night of the dance. The night she should have come clean. He’d been willing to listen then. Now she wasn’t so sure.

In his chair, Stuart sat waiting. Her own personal judge and jury.

She took a deep breath. “You ever been to a place like Feathers? It’s not some upscale bachelors’ club. It’s a dive, with divey people. Some of the girls—a lot of the girls—did stuff on the side to make extra cash.”

“But not you.”

“No!” she snarled. She got it. He was angry and hurt, but to even suggest... How many nights had she spent in his arms offering herself to him, body and soul? She didn’t share herself like that with just anyone, and he should know that.

Stuart must have realized he’d crossed the line, as his voice lost its sharp edge. “How did you get lumped in with the others then?”

“One night, the cops raided the club, and hauled us all downtown. My lawyer said it would be too hard to fight the charge and I’d be better off pleading out to avoid jail time.”

“Too hard for whom? You or him?”

It was the first civil thing he’d said since walking in, and it was a question she’d asked herself dozens of time. “I just wanted the whole thing to go away so I did what he said. I didn’t want to risk breaking my promise to Piper.

“And that,” she said, sinking onto the edge of the bed, “is the long version.”

Neither of them said anything for several minutes. Patience stared at the floral duvet, counting the various blossoms. A tail brushed her ankle. Nigel making his escape to the kitchen. The lucky guy

Finally, Stuart broke the silence. “If all this is true, why did you lie? I might have understood if you’d told me first.”

“Because I wanted to forget the night ever happened. I felt dirty enough. To admit I not only danced like a cheap whore, but I was arrested like one, too?” No matter how tightly she wrapped her arms around her midsection, her stomach still ached every time she thought about it. “Do you have any idea how it felt the other night, having to tell you about my pathetic past? I wanted to salvage a little bit of dignity.” And also cling to him a little bit longer.

None of that mattered now. Patience had seen the loathing on Stuart’s face when he walked in.

“All I ever wanted from this job was respect.”

“You had my respect.”

Had. Past tense. Her insides ripped in two. Hadn’t she known from the beginning getting involved with Stuart was a bad idea. Don’t drop your defenses, she’d told herself. The crash would be worse if you let yourself care.