Trish Wylie - The Bachelor's Cinderella

His gaze settled there.

He touched her again and lowered his head.

Their lips had barely met, he’d hardly gotten a taste of her, when he heard an enquiring purr and looked down to see Lightning gazing at them like a mother standing guard over her daughter.

“You have a bodyguard.”

“No. She likes you.”

Etienne had some crazy urge to ask Meg if she liked him, too. He wanted to know how much she liked him.

And that was unacceptable. A man didn’t tell a woman he was leaving one day and the next day demand that she pledge her love and loyalty. Hadn’t he already destroyed one woman in a relationship where she did all the giving?

“Even if she likes me, I have the feeling that Lightning would protect you if she felt I was up to no good.”And kissing Meg couldn’t be good even if it felt right.

“Were you up to no good?” Meg asked suddenly.

He leaned in and stole one quick kiss. “Yes. I like kissing you too much. And…I want to do more than kiss you.You make me want more. So, I should thank Lightning for breaking in. And I should go before I do something we’ll both end up regretting. Besides, you need rest, and we have a lot to do tomorrow. Lessons,” he warned.

“What kind of lessons?”

“Meg lessons. Food and wine. Table settings. Just mundane stuff, in case you ever get asked to one of those boring business dinners. And you will.”

“That won’t be mundane for me. I don’t handle alcohol well at all.”

“Well, then, this should be fun.”

Then he was gone.

ETIENNE was not a happy man. It had nothing to do with the fact that during the previous day’s lessons he had discovered that Meg and wine were not a pair and that she tended to fall asleep after a single glass. There was something rather endearing about watching her struggle not to yawn and then finally succumb, her head falling softly forward and then jerking up as she attempted to keep herself awake.

Now that he knew her weakness, he could head off trouble easily. She could simply drink water and forget the wine. But drinking wine wasn’t the problem.

The problem was this matter of Meg and her family and her family-to-be, something that had been bothering him ever since the other day in her apartment. It was clear as anything that she was a nurturing woman. Just watching her interact with and talk about her cats, that was obvious. Just thinking about the fact that she had been so concerned about his welfare that she had insisted on taking him out for some playtime, or the fact that she had even agreed to come back to Fieldman’s, he knew that she was a woman who cared about the welfare of others.

But it was also obvious to him that she had had some pretty brutal parents if they hadn’t been able to see what a treasure that she was. And then there had been that complete imbecile Alan who had not recognized Meg for the talented gift of a woman she was. She’d spent too much time trying to please people who couldn’t be pleased, but…her cats weren’t judgmental. A good scratch behind the ears, a little food and shelter and a woman had a friend for life, one who wouldn’t turn on her.

And now she was planning on raising a baby alone.

That wasn’t right. Not that she didn’t have the talent or the ability or enough love to go around. It was just…she shouldn’t always have to be shouldering everything alone.

It burned him. And yet he could do nothing about it. He was, after all, no better than any of the others. He would spend time with her, accept her aid, enjoy her talent and her company and her warmhearted, friendly teasing ways. He had even several times broken his rule of maintaining his distance and she had ended up in his arms. He liked having her in his arms…too much. He wanted to have her in his bed…for hours. But that, all of it, was wrong, because in the end, he would leave her as everyone else had.

So why was he so angry at her parents and Alan? He had no right to be angry on her behalf if he was going to act no better than anyone else had. And maybe that was why he was so upset. Because he had no right. And he never would have.

The phone on his desk rang. When he picked it up, it was the receptionist, Dora, telling him that there was a woman to see him. A woman named Paula Avery. She said the name as if he should know who it was, and it did sound slightly familiar but not enough for him to figure out who the woman was.

And when Paula Avery walked into his office, he still didn’t have a clue. It was only after she began talking, her voice fast and nervous as she kept looking over her shoulder, that Etienne began to understand.

He held up both hands. “What you’re telling me is that you’ve worked here before.”

“Yes. Recently.”

“Who hired you?”

“Alan Fieldman did,” she said.

Etienne automatically frowned. He couldn’t seem to help it. It was difficult not to hold that against the woman even though it wasn’t fair at all. “What was your position?” he continued, trying to soften his tone and set aside his prejudice.

“I was the office manager.” And that was when Etienne’s resolve flew out the window. He looked down at her application and saw that she had been hired not long before Meg left the company and that she had worked almost up until the time that Alan left. This was the woman Alan had hired instead of promoting Meg.

Anger as hot as a flame rolled over him, but he fought it. Meg had been a total hit with the reporters from the local newspapers and television and radio shows, and she was developing a bit of a fan club. Owning a Fieldman’s piece of furniture was becoming trendy. Everyone wanted to be like Meg. It was good for her to finally have some true adulation. She deserved so much more, and he didn’t want her associated with anything negative. Following through on his inclination to yell at this woman would only harm Meg. Etienne fought for calm, for a sense of quiet purpose. Years of training kicked in, thank goodness, and he was able to modulate his voice. “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid we don’t have anything here for you, Ms. Avery,” he said.

“Are you sure? Please. I don’t expect anything like the position I held before. But after Alan fired me, I couldn’t find work. I…I have children,” she said, just as Meg poked her head around the door.

Amazingly the look on Meg’s face wasn’t as shocked as Etienne would have expected. She was staring at Paula Avery intently and moving closer. He realized that the woman’s voice would have carried out into the hallway and that Meg might have recognized it.

“You’re applying for a job,” she said to the woman.

The woman turned as white as schoolroom paste. “I—I guess I didn’t think. That is, I just thought…with Alan gone…I’m sorry. I’ll go. Right now.”

Her hands shook, her shoulders slumped and she rose to leave.

“Paula, stop. I heard you before,” Meg said gently. “You need work.”

The woman looked at Meg with suspicion and fear, and her eyes were dark and haunted. “I’ve tried other places, but my record isn’t too great. Alan wouldn’t give me a reference. He blamed me for the fact that the company wasn’t doing well.”

“Why here?” Etienne said suddenly. “Why would you return to a company where you got fired?”

As if he’d just realized what he’d said, as if he’d forgotten that he had begged Meg to do the very same thing, he looked up and his gaze locked with Meg’s. Was she all right? She looked tired and sad, but there was a softness about her, a sense of resignation and…acceptance. She didn’t look as tense as he might have expected.

“I know it sounds crazy, but…you were hiring. I heard that and…I need to make a living somehow. I’m willing to take whatever you can offer me. Whatever you’re willing to give me to do.”