Overnight Cinderella. Katherine GarberaЧитать онлайн книгу.
might not be drop-dead gorgeous but with a little effort you could be passing-pretty.”
That’s it, she thought. I’m going to pick up the crystal paperweight and do him in. But something in his eyes stilled her hand.
He wasn’t getting the same enjoyment out of insulting her men in the past had. There seemed a deeper pain in his eyes that made her want to go to him and comfort him. That made her wish she was drop-dead gorgeous.
“Are you trying to make me lose my temper?”
“Yes, I am.”
“Try harder,” she said.
He almost cracked a smile. His lips twitched and he looked away from her.
“I saw that.”
He cocked his head to one side.
“You almost smiled.”
“Show me your legs again, and I’ll stand up and cheer,” he said.
Cami blushed. He was a man who could be her match in the wit department but was light-years ahead of her in the sexual arena.
Two
Three days later Duke was still devastated by her charisma. His life had become a cold wasteland after his wife’s death six years earlier, but losing her had proven what he’d always suspected—love wasn’t for him. But a ray of sunshine had penetrated the gloom—Cami Jones and her vibrant zest for life.
If only the woman possessing that energy had been a lady with loose morals. He could tempt her into an affair, take what he needed, then let her go. But those eyes of hers were innocent. And he couldn’t forget those knockout legs of hers. He wanted to watch her walk across the room toward him in nothing but her silk stockings and a pair of high heels.
But as he stared across the noisy employee’s cafeteria in the Pryce building, he knew Cami Jones was the decent sort. She was an oasis of quiet in the bustling metropolis of humanity swarming around her.
He grabbed his lunch container and headed for the door, not ready to confront Miss I’m Gonna Make You Smile. Her ability to make him smile would remind him he was alive. And alone. It would remind him of how long it had been since he’d really enjoyed life and living. It would remind him he wasn’t the man he’d always hoped he’d be but rather the man that life had made him.
He’d almost reached the door when she looked up almost guiltily and met his gaze straight-on. Blushing, she glanced away. He should leave the room, go back to his office and work through lunch as he’d planned. But her blush was a beacon. What in the world had triggered such a reaction?
Ignoring the corporate climbers who tried to cultivate him daily, he made his way to her table. Because of his position within the company and known friendship with Max, he endured no end of politicking from his co-workers. It annoyed the hell out of him.
“Cami, may I join you?”
She wanted to say no; it was written on her face like a flashing neon sign, but she nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from her.
To rattle her, he sat next to her. The remains of a brown-bag lunch lay on the table, the trash folded into neat little squares. A book lay face down on the far side of the Formica tabletop.
“What are you reading?”
“Just a book a friend recommended,” she said, fidgeting with her glasses, pushing them up her nose.
“Ten Steps for Effective Presentations?” he asked.
She gave him a wry smile. “No. It’s a fiction book. Did you get the background files on the vendors I asked Shelly to forward to you?”
“Yes, but I’m still waiting for the catering files. I’d like them before our meeting today at three.”
“No problem. My secretary’s copying everything for you now. I’m sorry I was so obstinate about the location in our meeting the other day.”
“No problem. I was a little heavy-handed.”
“Why?” she asked.
Because your legs were affecting me, he thought. But he couldn’t say that. He shrugged.
He opened his lunch container and took a healthy bite of his bacon cheeseburger. He ran an extra five miles at night to be able to afford the calories he ingested at lunch and, though he cursed like a sailor on the last mile, it was well worth it.
He wanted to know what had caused her to blush. She aimed him a tight little smile. The silence at their table was deafening in the noisy room. Nearby, a woman laughed loudly and Cami glanced at her.
He used the opportunity to snag her book and saw the cover depicted a man and a woman smiling at each other while draped in a seductive pose.
“Hey, give me back my book.”
He handed it over. “Sure.”
He bit into his burger before he realized he hadn’t brought anything to drink. He’d planned to grab a bottle of water from the refrigerator in his office.
“What? No snide comment about how this is as close as a woman like me will ever get to a man–woman relationship.”
Obviously he’d stumbled onto one of her hot buttons. “Nope. Never read one, so I can’t rightly comment on it. And I know nothing about your personal life.”
“Right, but you can take one look at me and see I’m not torrid love affair material.”
“You’re not convent material, either, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to assume you’re an atheist.”
She bit her lower lip, and he wanted to lean over and kiss her. To take her in his arms and protect her from the cruel world, but he wasn’t a good protector of innocence. And he knew that better than anyone. For the first time since Rebecca’s death he regretted that.
“Sorry. I’m just not myself today.”
“No problem.” He had more than his fair share of hot buttons so he couldn’t fault her. Now he knew more about her than he’d ever thought to. This woman with the naughty underwear was unsure of herself. This woman who had fought him to the wall over control of a million-dollar event didn’t trust herself on a basic man–woman level.
This woman with the average surface intrigued him in ways Rebecca never had because Rebecca had been a feminine version of himself. They’d shared everything from background to likes and dislikes. Rebecca had been a safe person to involve himself with because she’d understood about protective barriers and holding back emotion. She’d even been a cop, like him. They’d met at the police academy.
Get up, he told himself. Leave the table before this developing relationship goes any further. Sure, right now all they had was a business partnership, but he wanted more. He was nothing more than a scarred ex-cop who’d grown up in an orphanage and never been adopted because he’d never talked until he was seven. According to Janie O’Malley, his early development counselor, his parents’ death caused his silence. He knew nothing about building someone else’s self-image. He’d developed into the man he was through blood and sweat. No tears, never tears, because tears required emotion he didn’t have.
Being involved with Cami would require emotion. He sensed the tenderness she evoked when he’d watched her make her presentation was only the tip of the iceberg. Just being in the same room with her made him react—like a teenager with his first glimpse of a girlie magazine. He hadn’t spent so much time acutely aroused since he’d discovered why boys and girls were different.
He closed his to-go container and stood. “See you at three.”
He walked away without looking back. How was he going to work with the woman who’d made him remember why he’d stopped caring? She was intelligent and gutsy and should think of herself as attractive. She reminded him of himself in