Cinderella's Tycoon. Caroline Cross
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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.
His body instantly tightened.
So did his resolve. For whatever reason, there was something about her that seemed to have a disastrous effect on his self-control. And he. liked that the least of all.
The quicker he established some distance between them, the better off they’d both be.
Three
“Oh, my,” Susan said softly.
Standing beside the car, she stared at the house before her. Like everybody in the area, she’d heard about Sterling’s place. She’d even driven past the ornate entrance gate once with Callie to see for herself the emerald green pastures, man-made lake and graceful groves of trees that made the lush estate such a novelty in the arid scrubland of West Texas. Not surprisingly, the locals had taken to calling it the Oasis and the name had stuck.
The house couldn’t be seen from the road, however, set back as it was in a screen of trees at the end of the long, straight driveway. Secretly she’d been worried that it was going to be so imposing she’d never feel comfortable in it.
Now, some of her tension melted away. Instead of the formal, white-pillared mansion she’d expected, the structure rising before her was a big, sprawling two-story surrounded by a wild profusion of bushes and flowers. From what she could see, it was warm rather than palatial, charming rather than impressive, welcoming rather than intimidating.
It didn’t seem to suit Sterling at all, she thought ruefully, watching him from under her lashes as he got her suitcases from the trunk.
So far, he’d been anything but warm and welcoming. Not only had he barely spoken a word on the drive over, but it had almost seemed as if he’d been trying to avoid looking at her. And though she’d told herself that it didn’t mean a thing, that he was just being a conscientious driver, she had to admit that his aloofness was starting to get to her.
Waiting until he looked up, she bravely met his cool gray gaze. “This is lovely, Sterling.”
His expression lightened for a moment. “Yeah. It’s okay.” Closing the trunk, he picked up her suitcases and led the way across the paved circular driveway and up the wide, shallow stairs to a trellised entryway. Overhead, a leafy vine abloom in white flowers gave off a faintly spicy perfume.
Captivated, Susan again tried to start up a conversation. “Oh, how pretty. Is that a clematis?”
He set down the suitcases and reached to open the door. “Beats me. You’ll have to ask Maxine.”
“Maxine?”
“My housekeeper.” His voice took on a distinctly sardonic tone. “She likes to think she knows everything.”
“Oh.” Susan felt a pang of dismay. While she was relieved to discover that they weren’t going to be all alone in the house, she didn’t know a thing about having hired help. Heavens, she’d never even had a cleaning lady. What if this Maxine didn’t like her?
She didn’t have to wait long to find out. She’d barely crossed the threshold before a tall, energetic woman dressed in trim white slacks and a bright turquoise blouse materialized at the end of the hall. “Well, I declare, it’s about time you two got here,” the newcomer