A Millionaire for Cinderella(9)

“He ran upstairs,” Stuart replied, helping her to her feet.

“With his tail between his legs, I hope. If you didn’t believe me before about Nigel causing Ana’s fall, you have to believe me now.”

“The evidence is definitely in your favor. Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Positive. My butt didn’t even hit the ground.”

“Good. Hate to see you bruise something you might need,” he said with a smile.

That’s when she realized he still held her. His arm remained wrapped around her waist, pulling her close, so that their hips were flush. The odd angle gave Patience little choice but to rest her hand on his upper arm,

They might as well have been embracing.

He smelled of soap and laundry detergent. No aftershave—a testimony to his innate maleness that he didn’t need anything more. Awareness—no, something stronger than awareness—washed over her, settling deep in the pit of her stomach.

Fingers brushed her bangs away from her temple. Barely a whisper of a touch, it shot straight to her toes. Slowly, she lifted her gaze. “I’ve been wanting to do that all night,” he said in a voice softer than his touch.

“I—I’m growing out my bangs. That’s why they keep falling in my face.” Why did she think he wasn’t talking about her bangs?

Maybe because his attention had shifted to her mouth. Staring, studying. Patience caught her lip between her teeth to stop it from trembling. All either of them needed to do was to move their head the tiniest bit and they would be close enough to kiss.

“I should check on Nigel...” She twisted from his grasp, combing her fingers through her hair in a lousy attempt to mask her abruptness. She needed to...she didn’t know what she needed to do. The blood pounding in her ears made it hard to think.

She needed space. That’s what. Turning on her heel, she headed upstairs, forcing herself to take one step at a time. She lasted until the second flight, when Stuart was out of sight, before doubling the pace.

Smooth going, Patience, she thought when she finally closed her bedroom door. Why don’t you break out in a cold sweat while you’re at it?

What on earth was wrong with her anyway? She’d dealt with literally dozens of unwanted advances over the years. Losers, pushy drunks, punks who couldn’t keep their hands to themselves And she freaks out because Stuart touched her hair? The guy didn’t even try anything.

Oh, but you wanted him to, didn’t you? That’s why she’d bolted. In spite of everything that had gone on between them in the past twenty-four hours, she actually wanted Stuart Duchenko to kiss her.

Heaven help her, but she still did.





CHAPTER FOUR

THE NEXT MORNING, Patience woke up with a far clearer head. Tossing and turning for half the night did that for a person.

When she thought things through, Patience wasn’t really surprised that she was attracted to Stuart. Along with being handsome, he was the polar opposite of every man who had ever crossed her path. Sadly, that difference was exactly why she had no business kissing or doing anything else with him.

Throwing back the covers, she stretched and headed for the shower. Back in her and Piper’s old apartment, a long hot shower was her way of scrubbing away life’s dirt. The close, fiberglass stall had been her oasis. This morning, she was using Ana’s Italian marble shower to rinse away last night’s fantastical thoughts. There was probably some kind of irony in that. All she knew was she had to go back to keeping her distance before she made a fool of herself or, worse, said something she shouldn’t.

The brownstone was empty when she finally came downstairs. A quick look toward his bedroom door—because she needed to prepare breakfast, not because she was thinking about him—showed Stuart was already awake. Up and out, apparently. A good thing, Patience told herself. She still wasn’t sure how to explain her behavior last night, and Stuart’s absence gave her the space she needed to come up with one.

Nigel was sitting by the kitchen door. The food littering his mat said he’d already had breakfast. There was coffee in the coffeepot, too.

“He sure is making it hard to stay unaffected, isn’t he, Nigel?” She gave the cat a scratch behind the ear. “But we’re going to do our best.”

Just then the front door opened, signaling the end of her solitude. With a soft meow, Nigel trotted toward the entryway. “Hey, Nigel,” she heard him greet. “Told you I’d be back.”

Patience rubbed her arms, which had suddenly developed goose bumps. Amazing the way the air seemed to shift every time he entered a building. Like the atmosphere needed to announce his arrival.

And thank goodness, too. She turned to the door at the same time he entered, and if she hadn’t been forewarned, her knees would have buckled underneath her completely.

He’d lied last night. No way the man walking into the kitchen was an unathletic nerd. His thin cotton tank might as well be nonexistent, the way it clung to his sweaty body. She could see every muscle, every inch of nonexistent fat. His arms alone...were lawyers allowed to have biceps that illegal? All those thoughts she had about his being commanding and superior? They doubled. And she’d thought he might kiss her last night? Talk about being a fool.

“Good morning.” He barely looked in her direction as he made his way to the refrigerator. “Going to be a scorcher. You can feel the heat in the air already.” Grabbing a bottle of water, he downed the contents in one long drink. “Did you sleep all right?”

Clearly last night’s encounter hadn’t affected him. “Fine,” she lied, ignoring the hollow feeling threatening to take hold of her insides. “You?”

“As well as anyone with a furry bed warmer can sleep. Nigel has apparently appointed me the substitute Duchenko.”

“I noticed you fed him. And made coffee. Thank you.”

“Since I was awake first, it seemed only logical. Plus, Nigel would never have let me leave the house, and I wanted to get a run in before it got too humid.”

“I didn’t know you were a runner.”

“Grandpa Theodore’s idea. He thought it would help keep my lungs strong. The habit just sort of stuck.” As he talked, he crossed the kitchen to the side where she stood. Patience gripped the counter a little tighter. Even sweaty, his skin smelled appealing. Instead of stale and dirty, it was the fresh, clean scent of exertion.

“I called the hospital before I left. Ana had a good night,” he said, reaching into the cupboard for a mug.

He offered her a mug, as well, but Patience shook her head. Sharing coffee together felt too domestic and familiar.

“Oh, good. I was thinking of taking her some of her favorite tea and cookies when I visited her today. Since you were concerned about her eating and all... what?”

He was giving her one of those looks, where he seemed to be trying to read her mind. “That’s very thoughtful of you.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Actually...” His expression turned inward. “I’m beginning not to be.”

“Thank you. I guess.” Maybe he was finally realizing she wasn’t some kind of criminal mastermind out to take his aunt’s money or whatever it was he suspected her of being. Maybe this meant he would back off and her insides could unwind.

Or maybe not, she corrected, taking in his muscular arms.

“Don’t get too comfortable. I’m still keeping an eye on you.” Damn, if the smile accompanying the remark didn’t make her insides grow squirrelly. He finished pouring his coffee and headed toward the door. “I’m planning to stop by the hospital before work this morning. If you’d like, I can give you a ride.”

“Thanks,” she replied as Stuart left to get a shower. Sitting in close quarters with him while they wove through traffic was not her idea of fun. She’d bet he had a tiny Italian sports car so their knees could bump on every turn, too.

“Like I said,” she remarked to Nigel, who had returned and was weaving in and out of her legs, “he’s making it awfully difficult.”



Stuart took the stairs two at a time. So much for the restorative powers of a good run. Five miles and his thoughts were still racing.

Not just his thoughts. All he could say was thank goodness Patience wasn’t trying to look sexy or he’d have a heart attack.

It was time he accepted the fact that he’d gone from finding the woman attractive to being attracted to her. His fate was sealed the second his arm slipped around her waist. She fit so perfectly, her hips aligning with his as though they were meant to be connected...

Giving a groan, he kicked his bedroom door shut. It was all that damn tendril’s fault. If the strand had stayed tucked in her band where it belonged, he wouldn’t have been compelled to brush the hair from her face, and if he hadn’t brushed her hair, he never would have considered kissing her.

And oh, did he consider. He owed her a thank-you for bolting upstairs. Kept him from crossing an improper line with his aunt’s employee.

Raised a few more questions, too. Mainly, what made her flee in the first place? Stuart swore that for a few seconds before Patience took flight, he saw real desire in her eyes. Did she back off because she realized the mistake they were about to make or because of something more? The lady sure had her secrets.