Anne Winston - The Millionaire's Cinderella

“True. The room didn’t have anything in it when I bought the house, so I turned the space into play town.”

Play town was an accurate description, Joanna decided. Perfect, since it seemed Rio Madrid was still a little boy playing at being an adult—conservative doctor by day, adventurous adolescent by night. She’d known his kind before, been married to his kind, as a matter of fact. The kind of man that should be avoided at all costs.

But she couldn’t avoid him at the moment since he was still holding her hand, looking as though he was awaiting approval on a job well done. Looking devastatingly handsome.

Tugging from his grasp, she walked to the leafscrolled wooden pool table, obviously expensive, maybe even an antique, more than likely five times more costly than her car.

She faced him and immediately noticed the pride in his expression. “Very interesting, Doctor. Is this what you do in your spare time when you’re not in the hot tub?”

“Yeah. It helps me relax.” He cocked one eyebrow. “Can I interest you in a game?”

Oh, yes. Oh, no! “What kind of game?”

He made a sweeping gesture around the room. “Take your pick, but I was thinking pool.”

Now, this could be great fun, a chance for Joanna to play her own little game. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been a long time. I’ve never been all that good.” Not quite as good as her dad, but she could definitely hold her own.

“I’ll go easy on you.” His mellow, hypnotic voice made her think of slow and easy lovemaking. She suspected he would take his time, using his skilled hands, his mouth…

She should be horsewhipped for thinking such things, but Joanna couldn’t deny that Rio Madrid was the kind of man that fantasies were made of. Nothing wrong with fantasies, she guessed, as long as she didn’t allow them to take flight into reality.

Rio crouched at the end of the table, retrieved the balls from beneath and rolled them onto the felt surface. After he had them racked, he made his way to the cues hanging on the only bare space of wall. He grabbed two then came back to her. “Exactly how much experience do you have?”

A loaded question, especially since he posed it as if it had nothing to do with billiards. She took the pool stick he offered and a deep breath, but couldn’t avoid brushing his hand, couldn’t ignore the electric current that his touch generated throughout her whole body.

“As I’ve said, it’s been a while.” Been a while since she’d played pool, since she’d made love, since she’d even wanted to make love.

“I’ll let you break then. Give you a head start.”

She could use one at the moment, but she inherently knew it would take little time for Rio to catch up.

Determined to focus on the game, she rolled her shoulders to loosen up then walked to the end of the table, lined up the cue ball and studied the angle. Feigning ignorance, she asked, “Is this okay?”

“I’d say that.”

Rio didn’t appear to be looking at the ball, or the cue. He was looking straight at her cleavage, slightly exposed beneath her cotton blouse because of her position. Normally she would scold him. Normally she would button up to the neck and give him a dirty look. But she didn’t feel all that normal. She felt wicked, delighting in the power she seemed to have over him at that moment.

About time. He’d mesmerized her on more than one occasion.

Finally he looked away and removed the rack. “It’s all yours.”

With a little thoughtful planning, Joanna managed to hit the cue ball exactly right, causing it to bounce twice but landing short of the other balls.

She straightened and tried to look contrite. “Sorry. Guess it’s been longer than I thought.”

“Maybe you’re not holding the cue right.” He took his time traveling to the other end of the table but didn’t hesitate when he came up behind her and circled his arms around her, positioning her hand on the end of the stick. Joanna had all the confidence in the world on how to handle a cue, but she didn’t have a clue on how to handle his nearness and still remain composed enough to play the game. He was warm against her back, hard, male, making her feel intoxicated as if she’d raided the old-timey bar and downed all the whiskey.

His breath fanned her face, fed the flame now spanning the length of her. He smelled like incense, spicy and exotic and tempting. Joanna continued to play ignorant, play at this game of chance where the stakes were high and losing all common sense could be the price she would pay if not careful.

“Now hold it steady,” he said in a warm honeyed voice, thick and seductively sweet.

Steady? How could she? “I’ll try.”

The feel of him molded to her backside in all the right places had knocked her self-control for a loop, disturbed the timbre of her voice. She sounded like a mouse and felt like a woman. A woman in dire straits, enveloped in the solid arms of a man-boy with too much charm and the means to make her tremble, which she did, but only slightly.

With Rio’s assistance—help she didn’t really need— she broke the balls, effectively scattering them over the green felt surface, the way her composure scattered in his presence.

Much to her disappointment, and relief, he straightened and moved away.

His grin was confident, distracting. “You don’t have to call the pocket right now since you’re getting reacquainted with the game.”

Joanna smiled to herself. Little did he know, the charade was now off and the competition on.

She leaned forward over the table, sensing Rio’s scrutiny and trying hard to ignore it. If she didn’t, she’d probably bounce the balls like ball bearings across the room with her first shot. “Twelve ball, corner pocket.” After she said it, she did it. And again and again. With little effort, she cleared the table of all the striped balls.

Feeling sassy and satisfied, she said, “Well, Doctor, do you want to take a shot now before I take on the eight ball? I’ll be glad to let you.”

His smile looked sinister, and totally sexy. “You little sneak. Where’d you learn to play like that?”

“My dad.”

“He taught you well.”

“Yes, he did. As a matter of fact, he made a living at being a teacher. English teacher. So did my mom.”

“Do you two still play?”

“He died when I was in college.”

“I’m sorry.”

“So am I, but he led a full life. I only wish he’d known his grandson.” Joseph had been lacking a good male role model because of that fact, and his own father’s apathy.

Rio laid his cue on the table, not bothering to take a shot. But he sure as heck was shooting holes in Joanna’s resolve when he took the cue from her and laid it next to his then brushed his knuckles across her cheek. “Best I can recall, none of my teachers were pool sharks. But then, I don’t remember any of their daughters looking like you, either.”

Joanna forced herself away and strolled to the end of the room near the large picture window. She came upon a train set, intricately detailed down to the tiny pines and miniature houses. She bent and studied the tunnel opening from the foot of a tree-dotted hill. “Joseph would love this. The train I gave him for Christmas is cheap plastic.”

She heard a thwack and glanced over her shoulder to find Rio dispensing the remainder of the balls into the pockets. His thermal shirt, pushed up at the sleeves, revealed his caramel skin threaded with masculine veins. His dark hair veiled his beautiful face when he leaned over, but it didn’t matter. Joanna had practically memorized every detail.

He moved around the table and leaned over to make another shot. “I used to watch one setup from the window at a train shop when I was a kid.” He sent one ball into the pocket then straightened. “I waited a lot of years to have one of my own.”