Susan Mallery - Cinderella For A Night

Colton didn’t bother to respond.

A shadow fell across her. She looked up and saw that Jonathan had entered the kitchen. He’d pulled on jeans and a sweater, but his feet were still bare. The sight of his toes was oddly intimate. She noticed that his hair was mussed and he had a catlike contented quality in his eyes.

Because they’d made love, she thought with some pleasure, and had the sudden desire for them to do it again.

“I don’t know what to think,” he said, then folded his arms over his chest. “How do you feel about all this?”

I love you.

The words came from nowhere and for a second, Cynthia was afraid that she’d spoken them aloud. But Jonathan’s steady gaze didn’t alter, so she figured she was safe.

He continued to talk, but she wasn’t listening. Instead she thought about those three words and wondered if they were the truth. Did she love him? Is that what this was about? Love? She searched her heart, probing and questioning until the truth appeared with sudden clarity. She did love Jonathan. That was the reason she’d wanted to make love with him. She’d wanted to bond with him in the age-old way women had since the beginning of time. She wanted him to be a part of her. “…and, frankly, I don’t know what to do with you,” he was saying.

She blinked. “Why do you have to do anything?” She was pleased that her voice sounded so normal. She didn’t want him to know what she was thinking. “Can’t we continue as we were? Or as we are now?” She felt herself blushing at her forwardness, but didn’t look away.

His expression tightened in what she now recognized as desire. “You mean why can’t we be lovers?”

“Exactly. I think you liked it and I know I did.”

He ran his fingers through his hair and turned away. Bracing his arms against the counter, he dropped his head. “You have no idea what you’re saying. This game is beyond you, Cynthia. If you insist on playing, you’re going to get hurt.”

“I don’t think so,” she said, struggling to keep her tone light. “I know what I want. And it’s you.”

He spun to face her. She noticed that he was aroused again. If she wasn’t mistaken, there might even be a faint tremor in his hands.

“Don’t say that,” he growled. “You’re out of your league. I’m too old for you.”

“Nonsense. If you don’t want me, or are afraid, just say so. Don’t hide behind excuses.”

He surprised her by smiling. “You are always fearless.” The smile faded. “This is your last warning. You’re not prepared to do this with me.”

“I’m a grown woman. I know what I want.”

He didn’t look convinced. “Let’s give it a couple of days. You’ll probably find yourself drowning in second thoughts.”

“I won’t change my mind,” she said.

“We’ll see.”

Jonathan escaped to the office early Saturday morning, mostly because he couldn’t stand being at home with Cynthia. Of course being away from her wasn’t that easy, either, so he wasn’t able to get a lot of work done. Mostly what he did was pace and think.

Think about what it had been like to make love with her. Think about how soft her skin was and how she tasted and smelled and responded. Of the sweet cries as she climaxed and the way she clung to him. Since they’d made love, he’d spent even more time ready to be with her again. It was as if their single act of lovemaking had opened a door better left closed. Now he didn’t have to imagine what it would be like to be with her. He knew…and it was slowly killing him.

If he was any kind of a decent human being he would find a way to forget what had happened between them and make her forget, too. They were too different to ever have any kind of a relationship and if he didn’t figure out how to end it gracefully, Cynthia was going to get hurt.

He might be a real bastard, but he didn’t want that. And if there was a way to take back what he’d done-to make her as innocent as she’d been when he’d first met her, he would do it in a heartbeat. No matter the price. He would give up the glory of having been with her to have left her as he’d found her.

He didn’t want to be the one she remembered when she thought of the first time because he knew however this ended, it would end badly, and it would be his fault.

He had no experience with a woman like her. Someone who was normal, who had expectations of a forever kind of love and a family. Her world view let her believe that people cared about each other and always did their best, regardless of the personal cost. He believed that everyone was selfish and out for what he could get. There weren’t any heroes. Just regular people constantly on the verge of going bad.

And yet he didn’t think that about Cynthia. If there was one good person alive, she was the one. He could trust her to lead with her chin and her heart. She wasn’t afraid of getting hurt. Hell, she wasn’t even afraid of him. She would stand up to him because…He frowned. He didn’t know why.

He paced to the window and stared out at the view of Grand Springs. He couldn’t change the past, however he might like to, but he could affect the future. He had to promise himself that he would continue to stay away from her. He couldn’t touch her again. They could speak about Colton and be pleasant, but no more personal conversations. They would be business associates.

The phone rang. Jonathan turned and stared at the instrument. Tightness gripped his chest. He had a wild and fleeting hope that it was Cynthia calling him. That would be just like her. To demand that he quit hiding and return home to face her like an adult.

He crossed to the desk. A smile tugged at his lips. He could anticipate the frustration in her tone and the way she would be so careful not to call him names, even if she was thinking them. She would rip off his hide…in the politest way possible.

“Steele,” he growled into the receiver.

“Don’t you sound crabby,” a female voice said.

But it wasn’t Cynthia and his smile faded. “Hello, Martha Jean.”

She sniffed. “Try to sound a little more enthused, darling, or I’ll think that you want to get out of our date.”

Date? His brain stalled, then retrieved the memory. Of course. They were supposed to go out tonight. “I remember.”

“Good. That’s the reason I called. I have a silly committee meeting that’s going to end with a small cocktail party. So I’ll be out and dressed. Instead of you picking me up, why don’t I come get you. Then we can return to my place. For dinner.”

The last was an afterthought. She wasn’t interested in sharing a meal with him and he was supposed to feel exactly the same. He and Martha Jean had always only wanted one thing from each other. Sex.

He tried to picture the raven-haired beauty and could not. He couldn’t imagine any other woman except Cynthia. Her hazel eyes and mobile mouth came to him instantly.

“Is seven all right?” she asked.

He wanted to tell her no. He wanted to tell her that he could never be with her again because something had fundamentally changed in his life. He wanted to explain that he’d touched something wonderful and good and because of that he could never touch her again.

Instead he took a deep breath. “Sure. Sounds great.”

“See you then, lover.”

She hung up. Jonathan stared at the receiver for several seconds, then replaced it. He felt cold and empty, yet he knew he’d done the right thing. Being with Martha Jean would remind him of who he really was. Going out with her after making love with Cynthia made him a real bastard. Cynthia would be hurt, but eventually she would come to see that it was for the best.

He walked back to the window and stared out at the city. He wondered how it was possible to do the right thing and feel that it was incredibly wrong.

Cynthia entered the hall from Colton’s room. The baby had just gone down for the night. Now her excuse for being busy was gone and she was left with her thoughts. Unfortunately she was as confused about them as ever.

She didn’t know what was happening with Jonathan. He’d been avoiding her ever since they’d made love. He’d buried himself in work and had slipped in and out of the house like a ghost. She didn’t regret what they’d done, but he was making her feel that he did.

She stood in the center of the hall, not sure what to do next. There was a sound from Jonathan’s room, which made the decision for her. She would confront him. If they talked about the problem, surely they could fix it.

She walked to his closed door and knocked firmly. “Jonathan, it’s Cynthia. We have to talk.”

“Come in.”

She drew in a deep breath and turned the handle of the knob. She hadn’t been back in this room since they’d made love and she was more than a little concerned about all the memories that awaited her. So instead of looking around the room, she stared at the floor as she entered.

“This is crazy,” she said, coming to a stop about five feet from the bed. “We can’t keep avoiding each other as if one of us is contagious. I know that you’re upset because I was a virgin and you think it’s a big deal. I guess I should have told you, but I was afraid of your reaction. Besides, the fact that I picked you to be my first time should be a little flattering, if nothing else. But I meant what I said before. I don’t have a lot of expectations.” She raised her gaze to look at him. “No, I take that back. I do have one expectation.”

Words fled her. She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. Jonathan stood in the doorway to his private bath. He’d obviously showered and shaved. He wore an elegant dark suit. Not the casual clothes he usually wore when he was home.

He stared at her, his face unreadable. “What is your expectation?”

“That, ah, that we maintain our friendship. I hate that you’re avoiding me.” Her chest felt funny. Tight, but it was more than that. She couldn’t seem to breathe. “Are you going out?” she asked, her voice barely audible.

“Yes.”

His curt response cut through her. She had to bite on her lower lip to keep from crying out. She took a step back. “I-I don’t understand. It’s a business dinner, right? You can’t mean on a date.”

“That’s exactly what I mean.” He walked to his dresser where he slipped on his watch, then tucked his wallet into his jacket pocket. “I made these arrangements some time ago and I can’t cancel them now.”

“But, I don’t understand.”

He turned to face her. His gaze hardened. “No, you don’t. That was my point. You say that you’re willing to play my kind of game, but you’re not.”

Pain blossomed inside of her. It grew and flowered until there wasn’t room for anything else. He was going out with another woman. They were going to be together. At dinner, possibly dancing…making love.

The vision of him with someone else filled her brain. The need to cry out was almost primal. She wanted to run and hide, but where was there to go? She wanted to attack him, to pummel him, to scream that he didn’t have the right to treat her this way.

But she didn’t do any of those things. Not with him watching her, waiting for her to act like the innocent young woman she was. He expected her to fall apart and that expectation gave her the courage to be strong.

“Stop looking at me like that,” he growled. “I told you I wasn’t a saint.”

“I certainly believe you now,” she managed to say.

The doorbell rang.

“That would be my family,” she said. “Tonight is Jenny’s dance. My mom said they’d all come by so I could see her. If you’ll excuse me.”

She forced herself to turn and walk away even though it felt as if a thousand shards of glass were cutting through her body. She didn’t know what to say or how to act, so in the end, she simply put one foot in front of the other and made her way down the stairs.

Another woman. There was another woman. All this time she’d thought that Jonathan was closed off from the world. That he didn’t believe in anyone or anything. That he needed her to emotionally take care of him the way that Colton needed her to physically take care of him. When all the time he’d been seeing someone else. She’d assumed he was broken and that she in her wisdom could heal him.

She’d been a fool. Worse, she’d made a fool of herself. He wasn’t worried about not being worthy of being her first time. He was terrified that she wouldn’t recognize a one-night stand when it happened. He thought that she expected more of him than he wanted to give. It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable, it was that he wasn’t interested.