Cinderella for a Night
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Susan Mallery
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Chapter 1
“You look like Cinderella,” thirteen-year-old Jenny Morgan breathed as she stared at her older sister in the mirror.
“You’re right,” Cynthia Morgan said with a laugh. “All I need now are the mice!” She spread out the full skirt of the rented aqua-colored ball gown and gently swayed back and forth. “A handsome prince would be nice, too.”
“You’ll find him,” Jenny said confidently. “He’ll take one look at you and fall madly in love.”
“A girl can hope.”
But Cynthia wasn’t expecting much in the way of handsome princes at the Grand Springs Charity Masquerade Halloween Ball. For one thing, Grand Springs, Colorado, wasn’t a hangout for the handsome prince set. For another thing, she wasn’t princess material. Tonight, in her rented ball gown, with her hair pulled up and wearing more makeup than usual, highlighting her pleasant if not spectacular features, she looked pretty good. But the charity event attracted Grand Springs social elite and “pretty good” was not going to put her in the running for anyone very special. Certainly not for Jonathan Steele, a living breathing Prince Charming if there ever was one.
“Let me look.”
Cynthia turned at the sound of her mother’s voice and smiled as Betsy Morgan’s face softened into an expression of maternal pride.
“You’re a vision,” Betsy announced.
“I said she looked like Cinderella.”
“You know what?” Cynthia asked as she leaned forward and kissed her mother’s cheek. “I think I’m the luckiest person in world because I have a wonderful, supportive family and I get to go to a swishy ball tonight at the Grand Springs Empress Hotel. I promise I’ll memorize details and tell you both everything in the morning.”
Betsy exchanged a conspiratorial look with Jenny. “Not so fast.” She disappeared into the hallway, then reappeared carrying a shoebox. “We have a surprise for you.”
Cynthia stared at the box, then looked at both her mother and sister. “Tell me you didn’t.”
Jenny beamed. “We did. We voted and even Brad and Brett agreed and they’re exactly the right color and you’ll look so pretty when you’re dancing.” She crossed her arms over her chest and tightly squeezed herself. “When I grow up I want to be exactly like you, Cynthia. I want to go to a Halloween ball and be beautiful.”
Cynthia turned to her mother. “Are you sure about this? It’s just for one night.”
Betsy shrugged. “Sometimes that’s all you need to find a little magic in your life. You’ve been so good to all of us. We wanted to give something back.” She laughed. “Besides, they’re just shoes.”
They were more than that and Cynthia knew it. Money was tight in the Morgan household. Cynthia had used up the last of her pitiful savings to rent her finery for the evening. While the princess costume came complete with a tiara and fake jewelry, it hadn’t included matching shoes. She’d seen a pair of dyeable pumps on sale a week ago, but hadn’t had the money. Her mother had offered the household’s “what if” fund—a jar full of change that everyone contributed to. The rule was each member of the family had an equal vote on how the money was spent. Generally it went for a fun dinner out or an evening at a local arcade.
“I can’t believe you all wanted me to have these shoes,” she said and opened the lid.
Inside were a pair of aqua pumps that matched her rented dress perfectly. She slipped them on, then stood in front of the mirror while her mother and sister fussed over her. All of the Morgan kids were blond and fair. With the exception of Cynthia, they had big blue eyes inherited from their mother. Jenny was still too skinny and had a mouthful of braces, but in a couple of years she would be as pretty as Betsy. The ten-year-old twins—Brad and Brett—took more after their father and would grow to tower over the women in the family.
“Are you ready?” Betsy asked after smoothing the hem of the dress. “You look amazing.”
Cynthia met her gaze in the mirror and smiled. The rented dress smelled faintly of mothballs and her long, elbow-length gloves had been bought at a thrift store and mended. The tiara was rhinestones, the pearls around her neck fake, but for tonight none of that mattered.
“I feel great,” Cynthia told her and picked up her small handbag. “So if I stay out past midnight, will my car turn into a pumpkin?”
Betsy and Jenny followed her to the front door. “Not possible. It’s already a wreck,” her mother said cheerfully. “Pumpkin would be an improvement.”
Cynthia kissed Jenny’s cheek then her mother’s, and walked toward her battered car. “You’re right. Don’t wait up, Mom. I’ll be fine.”
“Promise me you’ll dance at least once with the most handsome man there,” Betsy called out as her daughter started her ugly but reliable car.
“I’ll do my best.”
She waved at her sister and her mother, then shifted into gear and started down the driveway. A shiver of anticipation rippled through her. For the first time in her life she was going to see how the other half lived. More important, she was actually going to speak to Jonathan Steele. At least that was her plan.
“I can do it, I can do it,” she chanted quietly to herself as she drove through the dark streets of Grand Springs. The mountain evening was cool and a starlit sky twinkled overhead. A magical night, she thought cheerfully. The kind of night where anything could happen. Meeting the great Jonathan Steele was the main reason she’d been so excited by the opportunity to attend the charity ball.
Two years ago she’d received a grant of seed money to start her new business. Now a relatively flourishing concern, Mother’s Helper existed because of Jonathan Steele’s generosity. The billionaire gave back to the community on a regular basis. He provided start-up capital for dozens of fledgling concerns. He was also the sponsor of the night’s charity ball.
“I will go up to him and, in a poised and confident manner, thank him. I will be gracious and brief and I will not trip or fall or forget to talk or anything else humiliating.”
Cynthia had a brief image of herself spilling punch down the front of his tailored, expensive tux and made a mental note not to be carrying anything liquid when she made her way to his side.
“Maybe we’ll dance,” she said dreamily, wondering what it would be like to be in Jonathan’s strong arms. He was so very handsome. Tall and dark and…
“And completely out of my league,” she reminded herself as she approached the well-lit Grand Springs Empress Hotel. Jonathan was a tycoon who dated incredibly beautiful, glamorous women. She was a struggling owner of a company that provided temporary live-in nanny care. If she was very lucky, she just might get to thank him, but that was it.
She paused at the crest of the rise to admire the twinkling lights of the hotel, glittering like a wedding cake in the rugged, rustic setting. The looming mountains were dark shadows in the distance. She breathed in the crisp night air and drove onto the hotel grounds.
She pulled up to the valet who took one look at her car and visibly shuddered. Cynthia glanced at the luxury car in front of her, then shrugged.
“My other car is much nicer,” she teased as she stepped out and accepted the parking ticket. “With this one I don’t have to worry about it being stolen.”
The valet, a young man about her age, relaxed enough to grin. “Like I believe that. Don’t worry, I’ve parked worse.” He jerked his head toward the open glass doors. “The ballroom is on your left. Have a nice evening.”
“I will,” she promised, speaking to both herself and to him.
Squaring her shoulders, she clutched her small, cloth bag in one hand and stepped forward, prepared to meet her destiny.
Jonathan Steele accepted a glass of champagne from a passing waiter’s tray, then took a sip. He eyed the mingling crowd filling the oversize room and knew that it had been a mistake for him to come tonight. He wasn’t in the mood to play the game of gracious host. He hated events like these. Too many business acquaintances presumed on a relationship that didn’t exist. Too many women thought it was well past time he was married. Debutantes and their persistent mothers cornered him at every turn and more married women than he could count thought he would be a fun, if temporary, companion.
But convention demanded that he make an appearance, so he was here. As soon as he was able, he would make his escape and retreat to the solitude that was more comfortable, if not more preferred.
He took a second sip of champagne only to have the fizzy liquid choke him when he spotted a familiar couple across the room. Anger burned through him—a molten rage that made his fingers tighten dangerously on the delicate crystal.
Jonathan set down his glass on a nearby table, then walked through the crowd. His gaze never left the darkly handsome pair talking with friends. The man was tall, nearly his own height. The wife, a too-thin former model in a clinging black gown, had a haughty look about her pinched features.
He stopped beside his half brother and tapped David on the shoulder. “I would like a word with you,” he said.
David turned slowly, his expression unconcerned. “Jonathan, what a pleasure. But then you’re the sponsor of tonight’s ball, so I suppose it isn’t a surprise that you’re here.”
David Steele, younger by seven years, had lived the good life since the day he was born. He didn’t know what it was to build something, to work hard and be proud of his accomplishments. Instead he expected all things would come to him and much to Jonathan’s disgust, they generally did. But that was about to change.
“Excuse me, darling,” David said, lightly kissing his wife’s cheek. “I’ll be right with you.”
Lisa Steele offered her brother-in-law a cold smile. “Don’t keep him for too long, Jonathan. I’m lost without him.”
“I’m sure that’s true,” Jonathan said smoothly, wondering how Lisa and her husband would maintain their marriage when they were in prison.
Jonathan took David’s arm and led him to a private alcove in the large ballroom. The two men were both over six feet, each with a strong build. Their gazes locked.
“The game’s up,” Jonathan said bluntly. “I’ve known about your embezzling for months, but now I have proof. Either put the money back or I’ll inform the authorities in the morning.”
David smiled slowly. “You don’t have proof. You don’t have anything. This is a bluff.”
Jonathan’s gaze narrowed. “I never bluff. You know that. It would give me great pleasure to see you arrested for this, David. Don’t push me.”
Jonathan didn’t know why he was giving his brother time. He should call in the police right now. But he knew he wouldn’t.
David raised his dark eyebrows. “You think you have it all planned out, big brother, but you don’t. This time I’m going to win. You see, Lisa and I are going away. You won’t be able to find us. In a very short period of time, you’ll have an unfortunate but fatal accident. Lisa and I can return as the grieving family. You’ll be gone and we’ll have everything.” He waved his hand like a wand. “Presto—I win.”
Coldness filled Jonathan’s chest. He hadn’t known it could get any worse between himself and his brother. He’d thought the truly low point of their relationship had been when their father had left David the family home. It had been the only thing Jonathan had ever wanted, but the elder Steele had intended to send a message from the grave. David had waited just long enough for the title to clear in his name, then he’d offered it to Jonathan at twice its value.
The house had been Jonathan’s only link with his past. He would have paid more to take possession and he’d given his brother the money.
Now David was threatening to have him killed. He almost didn’t believe they were having this conversation. “Why?” he asked.
“Why am I stealing or why do I want you eliminated?”
Jonathan shrugged. “Either. Both.”
“I would think the reason I want you gone is obvious. Father left you the firm, but I’m the heir when you’re dead. Now I’ll take it from you.”
Jonathan didn’t doubt his brother’s desire to have what he, Jonathan, had built. David had always been greedy. “If you’re planning to kill me, why embezzle?”
David leaned close and lowered his voice to a whisper. Unholy pleasure glinted in his eyes. “Because I can. Because it hurts you. I’ll miss causing you pain when you’re dead. It’s my favorite hobby. Oh, well. I’ll find another.”
With that, David slapped him on the back and walked away. Jonathan watched him go. From the moment David had been born thirty years ago, he’d been the golden boy of the family. Jonathan had never understood why. David had been given every opportunity, but he’d wasted them all. He took what he wanted and when he was tired of it, he destroyed it.
Jonathan thought about his brother’s threat to his life. He didn’t doubt that David had a plan. And just as soon as Jonathan left the party, he would call the detective he’d been working with and pass along the information. No doubt he would be told to hire a bodyguard or lie low for a few days.
He waited for a sense of outrage or anger, but he was tired of it all. There wasn’t anything left for him to feel. He’d been trying to understand his brother for too long, just as he’d been trying to get their father’s attention. It didn’t matter that Jonathan had taken a failing division of Steele Enterprises and had turned it into a multibillion-dollar success. His father had barely noticed.
Years before, Jonathan had decided that families were an invention of the devil and nothing had happened since to change his mind. He didn’t want to have to put his only living relative in prison, but David wasn’t going to give him a choice.
He swore and stepped out of the alcove. The laughter and loud conversation in the room seemed to echo in his head. He decided it was time to go home. If David really planned to kill him, he didn’t want his last night to be spent here.
He turned to leave, only to collide into a cloud of aqua silk and tulle. A young woman took a step back, then looked at him and smiled.
“You know, I had an entire conversation with myself on the way over here in which I swore I was not going to spill wine on anyone.” She looked down at the puddle on the floor, then returned her attention to his jacket. “Did I get you or miss you?”
He was sure he’d seen every debutante in the county and most of those in the state. He had a great memory for faces and knew instantly he hadn’t met this young woman before.
She was of average height, with pale skin and hazel-green eyes. She wore her blond hair up in a simple style, anchored by a ridiculous tiara. There was an air of innocence about her. If this had been another time and place, he would have sworn she was a vicar’s daughter in from the country for the first time in her life.
He touched the hem of his jacket. It was dry. “You missed me.”
She pressed a hand to her chest. “Thank goodness. I would have hated to soak you.” She waved her now-empty glass. “At least it was white wine. That doesn’t stain, does it?” She bit her lower lip and blushed slightly. “I’m babbling. It’s horrible, but you make me nervous. I mean, you’re you and I’m not. Well, I mean of course I’m not you. And spilling, it’s just so high school. Don’t you hate that?”
She paused for breath. “You’re not in costume.”
He glanced down at his dark tuxedo. “I know.” His gaze returned to her. He took in the ball gown, the tiara, the wonder in her eyes. “You must be Cinderella.”
“Almost. Cynthia.” She bit her lower lip again. “Please don’t call me Cindy. It would be too embarrassing.” She gave him a shy smile. “And you’re Jonathan Steele. I recognize you from your pictures in the newspaper. You look better in color than in black and white.”
“How reassuring.”
She glanced around, then back at him. “People stare at you. Have you noticed? I can’t decide if it’s because you’re good-looking or if it’s the money-power thing. Do you know which it is? Or is it both?”
The complete lack of guile in her eyes told him that her question was genuine, not an attempt at flattery.
“Maybe it’s you,” he told her.
She waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Oh, please. There’s a laugh. You’re the king of the ball.”
“You’re in a tiara. You must be royalty as well.”
She grinned. “Sure. I’m the Princess of Nowhere.” She set her glass on a nearby tray then curtsied. “It’s a small kingdom on the edge of town. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
Jonathan had spent the past two months confirming that his only living relative had concocted a scheme to skim millions from his business. That same relative had just informed him that he had arranged for his murder. If David didn’t put the money back, which was unlikely, Jonathan was going to have to have him arrested. It had been a hell of day.
Yet despite that, he suddenly didn’t want to leave the ball. His house was a cold, empty place and the past echoed through the many rooms. Instead he found himself wanting to be with the mysterious Cynthia—perhaps the last innocent on the planet. He wanted to hear her views on things like the best flavors of ice cream and who else had she spilled drinks on that evening and did he really make her nervous.
The orchestra in the corner started a waltz. Jonathan bowed formally. “May I have this dance, Your Highness?”
Cynthia smiled and held out her arms. “Okay, but I have to warn you the kingdom didn’t have money for a dance instructor so your toes are in danger. Just don’t try anything wild and I’ll probably be able to stumble along.”
He drew her close, enjoying the feel of her curvy body against his hard, male planes. Up close her fake finery lost some of its glitter, but he found he didn’t mind. She was, he decided, a genuine person, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had the pleasure of dancing with one.
This wasn’t really happening, Cynthia thought as Jonathan swept her around the room. It was all she could do to hold back her squeals of delight. For the first time in her life, her dreams were coming true.
She’d been wishing and hoping that she might have a chance to speak with Jonathan Steele and thank him for all he’d unknowingly done for her. But now she was in his arms and dancing with him. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she thought she might be in danger of swooning.
“Tell me about life in your kingdom,” Jonathan said as they twirled past other couples in the rapidly spinning ballroom. “Is there a prince in your life?”
She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not. “I’m not married, if that’s what you’re asking.”
A slow, male smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had a wonderful mouth, she thought dreamily as she inhaled his masculine scent. Firm, almost stern looking, and studying it made her wonder how it would feel against her own. He was tall, too, and the faint whispers of silver at his temples were so intriguing. She wasn’t sure how old he was. Several years older than herself, which meant he was probably wildly experienced with women and she was making a fool of herself with him, but she couldn’t find the will to mind very much.
“That’s exactly what I wanted to know.” His dark eyes glittered with a light she couldn’t recall seeing in a man’s eyes before. Not that she’d had much experience with being this close to men like Jonathan Steele.
They continued to dance, moving easily, as if they’d whirled around the floor a thousand times before. She found herself pressing against him, her breasts flattening against his broad chest, her legs brushing his through the yards of tulle and silk of her ball gown.
“So why haven’t I seen you before?” he asked. “Are you new in town?”
Cynthia laughed. “I’ve lived here all my life. We don’t exactly travel in the same circles.”
“But I thought all the royals knew each other.”
He was teasing her. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t know that men like him knew how to tease. “I guess you missed me, then.”
“I guess I did. I’m glad I’ve had the chance to fix my mistake.”
His gaze locked with hers. She could feel the shiver rippling through her body, making her legs weak and her heart flutter like a trapped bird. She was going to faint or start laughing hysterically, or throw herself at his feet and beg him to do whatever it was men like him did to young women like herself.
“Aren’t you going to tell me about yourself?” he asked.
“There’s not much to tell,” she said. “I work for—”
“Let me guess,” he said, cutting her off. He drew her to the edge of the dance floor, then slowed to a stop. “You teach kindergarten, or first grade. You have something to do with small children.”
Her eyes widened. “How did you know?”
“You have that look about you.”
“What look?”
“The look of an innocent.” He reached up and touched her cheek. “I can’t remember the last time I met someone like you, Princess Cynthia. I can’t decide if you’re Cinderella or the Princess of Nowhere. What happens at midnight? Do you disappear and leave me with only your shoe?”
She didn’t know how to answer. His fingers were a light caress that she felt all the way down to her toes curling in her new shoes. Goose bumps erupted on her arms and her breath caught in her throat. She and Jonathan were playing a very grown-up game and she didn’t have enough experience to understand the rules. If there were any rules. Maybe people made them up as they went along.
“I don’t have to disappear,” she whispered. Heat flared on her cheeks and she ducked her head to hide her blush.
He swore. “Don’t do that,” he told her even as he took her hand and led her into an alcove of the ballroom. One minute they were in the middle of the crowd, the next they were in a private paradise, tucked between a row of plants and a curtained wall.
“Don’t do what?”
“Blush. If you blush it means I can’t do what I want.”
She risked glancing at him. “What do you want to do?”
She asked the question with no expectation of an answer, but as soon as the words fell from her lips, she knew exactly what he wanted to do…or she had a pretty good idea.
“Find out what innocence tastes like,” he said, and gently cupped her face. Then he lowered his head and brushed his mouth against her lips.
She hadn’t been sure what to expect. If someone had asked her to guess about Jonathan Steele’s kissing technique, she would have said that the man probably took what he wanted. But this wasn’t like that at all. His touch was gentle, tender, almost asking, as if he wanted to be sure that she was fully aware of what was going on and that she liked it.
What was there not to like, she thought hazily as tiny explosions seemed to go off inside her entire body. Fire rushed through her, as if every inch of her had just had a close encounter with a major heat source. His fingers branded her, his lips teased and she knew that if she died this very moment, it would be with the knowledge that she’d experienced something incredibly perfect.
They weren’t touching anywhere but their mouths. Yet it was as if he pressed into her. She sensed his nearness and it was an intoxicating presence. His lips moved against hers…slowly, lightly but with a thoroughness that left every millimeter of her mouth caressed and aroused. His breath fanned her face. She thought briefly of opening her eyes, but her eyelids were too heavy. Besides, she didn’t want to destroy the perfection of the kiss.
He turned his head slightly, then brushed his tongue against her lower lip. She shivered and parted for him. For a man who had all the world offered and who was probably used to taking what he wanted, he entered her with a reverence that almost brought tears to her eyes.
The first touch of his tongue against hers nearly drove her to her knees. Passion exploded—a passion she’d never experienced before. Her throat was too tight for her to speak coherently, but a small sound of pleasure escaped. Perhaps he’d been waiting for that, or perhaps it was simply luck on her part. Either way, he dropped his hands to her waist and pulled her hard against him. Then he plunged his tongue fully into her mouth and claimed her.
Cynthia leaned against him because she couldn’t stand on her own. She couldn’t breathe or think or act. She could only feel the glory that was Jonathan as he continued to kiss her. She could only kiss him back and know that whatever else happened in her life, she would always have this night and the magic of his kiss. There had been other kisses before, other boys or men, but comparing their attentions to his was to compare a glass of water with the wonders of an ocean.
“Who are you?” he breathed against her mouth. “What are you doing to me?”
“I don’t know,” she said honestly and opened her eyes to look at him.
She had a brief impression of barely controlled passion and a desire that made her tremble with both anticipation and fear. Then there was a loud crack and all the lights went out in the ballroom.
