Myrna Mackenzie - Inherited - Expectant Cinderella

He wanted to tell her that he wouldn’t, that she could have it, but … how did he know that? Stuff could be hard evidence and could be used against a person.

“We’ll see what’s there, but I won’t do anything right away. Today I’m just looking. All right?”

She nodded, but her body radiated tension, possibly even anger. At the top of the stairs, Daisy pushed on a door that creaked as it opened. She flipped on a light switch and motioned Parker inside. Immediately, a sparkle caught his eye and he turned his gaze to the other side of the room where several clothing racks stood end to end. One of them contained nondescript middle-aged-woman outfits in cheap fabrics. The other two sparkled and glittered with sequins and fake jewels. Some of the outfits sported feathers. All of them were barely there.

He whirled and looked at Daisy. “These were … my aunt’s? She was a …”

Daisy placed one hand on her hips. “Tillie was a showgirl, among other things.” And then she must have noticed his confused look. What did among other things mean?

“Hmmm, I’ll bet that won’t play very well in Boston,” she said. “Or with those luxury-seeking customers who like things sanitized.”

He stepped forward, then froze. “Are you threatening me, Daisy?”

“Threatening?” Looking down at her wide, startled eyes, he realized that he had been wrong. She hadn’t been. And now, once again, he was close enough to touch her. That couldn’t keep happening.

“No, of course not,” he said, backing off. “But you said … among other things. What else was she?” His breath lifted a loose lock of hair at her temple.

Daisy reached out as if to touch him … or push him away, he didn’t know which. “I’m not sure I can explain what Tillie was, and—” She took a big step back. Two steps. One more and she would be tumbling backward down the stairs.

He reached out to catch her again, but she shook her head as she turned and started down the stairs. “I have to go to work,” she said. “I have a tour group, and we have another wedding tonight and one tomorrow.”

And she fled down the stairs.

A short time later he sat staring at a fairly recent diary that—despite the fact that large parts of the book were still blank—left no doubt about at least some of his aunt’s past indiscretions and colorful lifestyle. He was wondering what he should do with the damning book.

No doubt he should pitch it, burn it, shred it. He’d think about that.

But the beep of his cell phone reminded him that this trip—and Daisy—were just detours from his real life. Fran’s text message that Jarrod was trying to finagle Parker’s private phone number in order to discuss some of the female guests the board wanted to invite to the annual Sutcliffe Industries Ball was a reminder of just how intent Parker’s relative-heavy board was on turning him into a living billboard for the company. They wanted him to adopt the role his father had taken as the aristocratic symbol of Sutcliffe’s, a sort of Prince Charming waltzing to the Wedding March, all for the sake of marketing. If he was going to come up with a better alternative to pull Sutcliffe’s out of its slump and make it a household name for the elite, he needed to come up with a brilliant plan fast. Only two things stood in the way of him devoting all of his time to finding that plan: his aunt and one caramel-eyed pixie with flowers between her pink toes.

“So do your research on Mathilda and find Daisy a viable home and get her off your plate,” he ordered himself. “Quickly.”

Good advice. With a little luck and a good real estate agent, Daisy and her “team” would be stirring up trouble for someone else soon. And he would have forgotten that he’d ever met her.

DAISY waited until Parker had left the building before she slipped back inside. She had lied about her tour. It had been canceled. That was money she couldn’t afford to lose, but right now she was more concerned about what Parker Sutcliffe meant to her and her friends … and her child.

She didn’t want to think about how crazy he made her feel whenever he got too close to her. Letting herself be even mildly attracted to the man could only end badly.

Sure, Parker was being nice by letting them live rent-free while he helped them find a place, but they were worlds apart, he was eager to get away and she had already had far too much experience with men who didn’t stay.

Even more important, she was still getting used to the scary reality that she would soon be the source of … everything for a totally helpless baby. So, for now, for the sake of the others and her baby, she would accept Parker’s help, but it had to be temporary. This situation was just more proof that she needed to become completely independent. No leaning on a man, no wanting a man. She had to make something better for her child, to find a secure fulltime job and build a protective cocoon around herself and her baby. Getting dreamy about a rich guy who was on his way back to his rich world and his rich, sophisticated, not-pregnant women would be totally irresponsible. And irresponsible was number two on her list of things she didn’t do anymore.

Number one was putting her trust in a man. She thought of that when Lydia asked her why she hadn’t told Parker that she was pregnant.

“You should tell him,” Lydia said. “You’re not showing yet, but if you told him, maybe he would …”

Daisy shook her head vehemently. “He wouldn’t understand. His type doesn’t. And if he finds out about my past or thinks too hard about the fact that we’re breaking the law by being here, he might report me as an unfit mother or something like that. Then I couldn’t keep the baby.” The thought terrified her.

“So … what are we going to do?” John asked.

Daisy took a deep breath, trying for the thousandth time not to panic at the thought of how dependent her friends were and how afraid she was of failing them. She wondered if Tillie had felt this way. For half a second she wondered if Parker felt that way right now, and she almost felt sorry for the man. He hadn’t asked to have them all dumped on him. But she had no time to mull that over. John was waiting.

“Well,” Daisy said, putting on her what-would-Tillie-do? thinking cap. “First I’m going to go be sick. No big deal. Just morning sickness. The usual. And then we’re going to get ready for tomorrow’s wedding.”

The one thing Daisy could count on to take her mind off things was her role in planning the weddings. Even if she didn’t want a wedding for herself, she loved planning weddings for others. The irony and sometimes the difficulty of creating weddings for people when she would never have a happily ever after didn’t escape her. But she’d been helping Tillie since she was a teenager, and Tillie had loved weddings. Creating special ones made Daisy feel a connection to Tillie. And the next one was a fairy-tale wedding. Literally. Tillie’s favorite and hers. Trying to forget her own troubles, she threw herself into planning a personalized ceremony.

It was only when Daisy got to the part where the groom/prince was supposed to say his special vows and take the bride in his arms that she suddenly remembered how she’d felt when Parker had caught her in his arms to keep her from falling. She’d leaned back against his chest, she’d felt his big palms on her body and—

Daisy’s pen slid across the page. “Darn it! You wanted him to turn you around and kiss you. Having felt his hands, you wanted to know how his mouth felt, too, didn’t you?”

Maybe. For sure she’d wanted to kiss him . It was a horrifying thought, except … it also made her smile. What would stuffy Parker Sutcliffe do if someone like her wrapped herself around him and kissed him?