Caroline Cross - Cinderella's Tycoon

It was a fair exchange. So why didn’t he feel better?

Well, hell, that was easy. It was her. Susan. In the course of twenty-four hours, she’d gone from being so unassuming she was practically invisible, to being the sort of woman who could get under your skin if you let her.

Not that he was going to let her. Sure, the kiss they’d shared earlier in the judge’s chambers may have gotten a little out of hand. But then, she’d caught him totally off guard. The last thing he’d expected was for her to respond to an obligatory buss on the cheek by twining herself around him like some fragrant clinging vine. Much less that she’d practically melt with pleasure from something as basic as an everyday, elementary, closedmouth kiss.

But she had. And he’d been so nonplussed that for a few seconds there he’d had an inexplicable urge to clear off the judge’s desk, lay her down on top of it and see what happened next

Dammit.

Sterling shoved a hand through his hair, frustrated and a little embarrassed at the memory of his heated response. Okay. So maybe she had gotten to him just a little. It didn’t mean a darned thing. He’d simply been knocked temporarily off balance by the startling change in her appearance and things had gone downhill from there.

But that was over. Done. In the past. He now had himself well in hand and he wasn’t about to let a brief lapse in judgment ruin a perfectly good marriage of convenience. All he wanted out of this union was the right to his child. He did not want to be attracted to that child’s mother. And the sooner the new Mrs. Churchill understood that, the better off they’d both be.

“Sterling?”

He turned. Susan stood just inside the interior doorway, awkwardly clutching a large Cachet box under one arm, while she held an old, mismatched suitcase in each hand. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair slightly mussed, her skin glowing from her recent exertion. It was a damn good thing he wasn’t letting her get to him, he thought sourly. Because if he was he’d be forced to admit she looked good. Real good.

He indicated the bags. “That it?”

“Yes. Except for my books. And some household items, towels, linens, knickknacks, that sort of thing.”

“Like I told you,” he said as he closed the distance between them, took the suitcases from her and set them by the door. “I’ll send one of my men over with a pickup tomorrow to get the rest of your stuff. Once you’ve seen my place, you’ll have a better idea what you want to keep.”

She nodded. “Yes. I know. Thank you.”

There was a brief pause as Sterling gathered his thoughts. “There’s something we need to discuss,” he began.

“Oh! I almost forgot—” Susan said simultaneously.

They both fell silent. Sterling managed a terse smile. “Ladies first.”

“It’s nothing really,” she said quickly. “That is, it is to me, but it may not be to you. It’s just...about my job...”

He frowned. “I thought we agreed you were going to quit.”

Inexplicably the faintest flicker of disbelief came and went on her face before she said, “Well... yes. But you see, it’ll take some time for them to replace me, and I can’t just leave them in the lurch that way, so I’ve agreed to work part-time. It’ll just be for a while,” she was quick to assure him. “And I did arrange to take the rest of this week off.”

He supposed he couldn’t fault her for being conscientious. “Okay. Is that it?”

“Actually, there is one other thing...” Her voice trailed off as she walked over and picked up her purse off the sofa. She opened it and pulled out a roll of bills. “Here.” She offered the money to him.

He frowned. “What’s that for?”

“It’s yours. You gave it to me yesterday. Remember?”

“Yeah. So?”

“So it was very kind of you, but as it turned out, I didn’t need it. I took care of things myself.”

He gave her lavender dress a quick glance, staunchly trying not to notice the way it clung in strategic places to the slim body that shaped it. He might not be an expert on women’s clothing, but he knew it hadn’t come from the Bargain Mart. Just as a single glance around the rather shabby living room was proof enough that his bride was hardly rolling in money. Wondering what her game was, he said carefully, “Look, I expect to pay your way. Even though this isn’t a conventional marriage—” it couldn’t hurt to lay a little groundwork “—you’re still my wife. Legally at least.”

“But I wasn’t yesterday,” she countered earnestly. “And it just doesn’t feel right to take your money. Not that I’m not grateful. It—it was very sweet and very generous of you to give it to me. But I think it’s important that we start out on the right foot and I don’t want you to think I’m some sort of gold digger.” When he still didn’t make a move to take the cash, she carefully reached out and slipped it into his coat pocket.

His lips involuntarily compressed at the jolt of awareness that shot through him at her innocent touch.

Oblivious to his discomfort, she took a few steps back, linked her hands together and smiled tentatively up at him. “Now. What did you want to tell me?”

He stared back at her. Well, shoot. What was he supposed to do now? Tell her to hell with starting off on the right foot, it would make things a whole lot easier if she was just a tad bit less ethical?

Then, at least, they could have a nice, straightforward business arrangement. Instead she was complicating everything by her insistence on being so...nice. Not that he wasn’t pleased that the mother of his child appeared to have some standards, he was quick to assure himself. He was. But still...between the way she looked, the way she kissed, and now this, nothing was going the way he expected. And he didn’t like it. He didn’t like it at all.

On the other hand, they did have to live together. And it was sort of flattering—in a totally annoying way—how she’d gone to such lengths to spruce herself up for him. More important, given her delicate condition, he sure as hell didn’t want to take a chance on upsetting her. Which was a distinct possibility, he realized uneasily as he gazed into her concerned brown eyes.

Damn. What if he said the wrong thing and she got hysterical and fainted or something and hurt herself or the baby?

His stomach hollowed and he came to a sudden decision. He’d lay down the law in a few days, after she’d settled in at his place. And in the interim he’d keep to himself until she got the picture. Then, when she’d had some time to accept how things stood, they’d talk.

“Sterling?” Susan said. “Did you want to say something?”

“No,” he said decisively.

She worried her lower lip, then released it. “Are you sure?”

With a start of disgust, he realized his eyes were riveted on the full, soft curve of her mouth. Jerking his gaze away, he wheeled, picked up the suitcases and nudged open the screen, holding it open for her. “I’m sure. I think we ought to get going.”

She hesitated, then nodded. “Okay.” Taking a deep breath, she drew herself up and took one last look around the room. Then she picked up the Cachet box and her bridal bouquet and walked resolutely toward him and the door.

Stopping as she drew abreast of him, she caught him by surprise as she lightly laid a hand on his forearm. “I realize this isn’t an easy situation for either of us,” she said softly. “But I want you to know, I’ll do my best to be a good mother to the baby and a good wife to you.”

Great. Just what he wanted to hear. “Yeah. Me, too,” he mumbled in return. Since he didn’t mean a word of it, for a second he felt like the biggest heel on earth.

Then she nodded, glanced shyly away and set off for the car—but not before her hip brushed against his thigh as she passed by.