The Cinderella Mission. Catherine MannЧитать онлайн книгу.
Ba Kum?”
Kelly searched her memory for the translation— “How much?”
“Excellent. Ethan always struggled with languages, no matter how many informal field trips I took him on abroad. Of course he did get an A on his volcano science project after our weekend jaunt to view one in Italy.”
Kelly smiled at the image. What had it been like for Ethan being brought up by this unconventional woman?
The answer came to her in a flash.
Fun.
No doubt spelling drills for Ethan hadn’t consisted of sitting in a straight-backed chair until his legs fell asleep. “So you got your deal on the caftan at the market?”
“Actually I bought this in the airport on my way home. I just said I like to tell people it came from a vendor. Without the story, my caftan has no allure for them.”
“Of course,” Kelly agreed, rather than admit she’d lost the thread of Eugenie’s reasoning back at the bazaar.
Where was she going with this rambling? Or was Eugenie Williams one of those people who just liked to talk? Either way, Kelly knew she didn’t stand a chance of stepping off the roller coaster. Not that she wanted off just yet. “What a, uh, fascinating concept.”
The older woman waggled a bejeweled finger. “Ethan didn’t tell me what a diplomat you are. Not one of his strong points, I might add. Diplomacy. I missed the mark in teaching him that one. But I did a fair job in showing him how to savor life.”
Kelly decided she would pass on hearing about Ethan’s exploits.
Eugenie twisted rings around her fingers with her thumb, one sapphire set in platinum, a double ruby and an emerald-cut diamond. “In the interest of savoring life, I want you to come with me to my spa.”
It sounded heavenly, but she didn’t have the time. The story of her life, but a price worth paying to rise to the top. “I’m here to work.”
“You can’t work for every waking minute. We’ll go after hours.”
“Thank you, but I really can’t—”
“We’ll have mud wraps and a massage. My masseur does the most wonderful relaxation therapy with river stones along the back to ground and center you.” Her eyes drifted closed, her fingers wavering down in front of her face as she exhaled deeply.
Kelly twitched her foot. How long should she wait for Ethan’s aunt to come to?
Eugenie’s eyes snapped open. “After that, we can indulge in a pedicure, and maybe even work in a hair trim.”
“A hair trim.” Realization trickled over her like the stinging bite and stench of the home perm solution her mother had squeezed onto her head in the eighth grade.
Kelly stared at the woman with a new understanding. She’d dodged her mother’s mall salon gift certificates often enough to recognize a makeover offer when she heard one.
Ethan had set her up again.
And that royally pissed her off.
Why hadn’t he just told her? She could have handled hearing she needed a new wardrobe to make this work. She wasn’t so socially inept that she expected to wear tennis shoes to an embassy ball.
But he’d obviously worried about hurting her feelings, and that reeked of a pathetic air she could not stomach. “So that’s why I’m here. For you to concoct a cover story. Like with your caftan, you’ll set up an allure to your social set so they’ll accept me.”
A part of her wanted Eugenie to deny it, but she knew better. Those extra IQ points carried the burden of being right quite often.
Eugenie’s bittersweet smile confirmed the scenario before her words. “Sadly, my dear, I’m afraid there are people in this world who don’t trust what their own eyes tell them. They can’t believe something has beauty or worth unless it conforms to their standards. I’m sorry about that. But most of all, I’m sorry you had to find out this way. Ethan should have told you.”
“Yes, he should have.” She couldn’t stem the anger in her voice.
“Remember, he is a man. And when it comes to second-guessing what women want, men can be the most clueless creatures since the Komodo dragon.”
Kelly couldn’t help but be affected by the woman’s whimsy. A snort of laughter slipped past her anger. “He should put you on the payroll for damage control, as well as makeovers.”
“My nephew can be an insensitive ass.”
“It’s not your fault. He’s just doing his job.” Her frustration redirected itself all onto one, all-too-deserving target. Ethan.
“Consider it a cover, like Ethan’s ever-changing hair length. We’ll drape you in Versace and diamonds. Then we’ll tell people your parents are Nebraska land barons.”
“They’re wheat farmers.”
“No, no.” Eugenie batted the air as if whipping up her story. “They launched an exclusive brand of hybrid organic wheat germ that’s all the rage in Paris.”
“Wheat germ? My father is somewhere right now cringing over his cholesterol-laden breakfast and doesn’t know why.” No doubt this woman would have her way. Kelly surrendered to the inevitable. “I guess I can live with Versace and the wheat germ. But no feathers.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
The wicked glint in cerulean eyes so like Ethan’s made Kelly doubt the woman’s word. She picked at the hem of Eugenie’s caftan. “And no sarcophagi.”
“Brat.”
Kelly relaxed into the sofa with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, then, maybe one chiffon diamond-studded turban.”
Eugenie’s face smoothed, no laughter in sight. She lifted a lock of Kelly’s hair from the sofa back. “Oh no, my dear. I wouldn’t cover this glorious mane for anything.”
Her hair?
She’d never thought of her hair as anything other than an obnoxious tangle. Kelly looked for signs that Eugenie might be flattering her just to win her point and found nothing of the sort. The woman meant it.
Not that it should matter in the least.
But it did. After years of waiting for even one affirmation from her mother, Kelly soaked up that single comment. If this woman ordered a torturous combo of a seaweed wrap and bikini wax, Kelly would be first in line.
Ethan, on the other hand, would pay big-time for his latest deception.
“It’s all about deception, Kelly. Make your attacker believe you can’t defend yourself.” Ethan stood across from Kelly on the exercise mat in his private gym. He hoped like hell this hand-to-hand combat lesson would end soon. He’d had enough of flipping, tripping and touching to last him two lifetimes. “Use your smaller size to your advantage by lulling him into a false sense of security. Then blast him with an explosive surprise shot.”
Security? He wanted the security of a mission in, say, Taiwan. Yeah, Taiwan, where he could kick butt against a pack of bad guys.
Instead, he was stuck in the mansion gym serving as Kelly’s personal trainer.
Much more body tangling and he would lose his mind. Please, Lord, he hoped she’d absorbed today’s self-defense lesson and they could move on to weaponry. He could use some time with his 9mm to blast holes in a target, a safe outlet for his frustration.
“Remember, Kelly, it’s all in the hips.” He did not want to think about her hips. “Lower your center of gravity so the power of your punch comes from your body and not just the body part.”
“Right.” She nodded, her ponytail bobbing. “Sling hips into the punch and follow through.”
“Good.