Secret Cinderella. Dani SinclairЧитать онлайн книгу.
fiercely, trying not to let him know how scared she was for him.
“Be careful. Boswell’s willing to kill for it. I don’t want to be an only child, either.”
Her heart plummeted to her toes, her wild imaginings reinforced. But she kept her tone light, trying not to let him hear her fear.
“Mom and Dad would be ticked,” she agreed. “Don’t worry, Gary, he’ll never feel a thing.”
Chapter One
Mel hated it when her words turned prophetic.
Carl Boswell had been past feeling anything at all when she found him. Now she clutched the slim plastic card and the keys she’d removed from his wallet an instant before she’d been discovered going through the dead man’s pockets. She continued to ignore the horrified, sick feeling in her stomach as she paused to get her bearings. She didn’t have time for sick. Not then, and especially not now.
From the elevated balcony, Mel frantically scanned the noisy crowd below, landing on a tall, imposing figure in an immaculately tailored tuxedo. The stranger moved alertly among the room’s occupants, nodding to acquaintances, but not stopping to speak to anyone. His purposeful stride was carrying him toward the exit at the far end of the ballroom.
Perfect.
As she skimmed down the stairs keeping her gaze focused on the man, she watched him pinch the bridge of his nose as though he had a headache. Understandable in this din.
He continued on his path with the sense of purpose that had first drawn her eyes—a lean, feral cat among the pigeons. People parted instinctively to let him pass.
Not a good mark. He was too alert for that. But she was desperate and his size alone might present a shield. He’d have to do. Everyone else seemed to be with someone.
She shot a glance over her shoulder. Still clear.
Mel darted amid the clusters of people while trying to keep him in sight. Her spiked heels didn’t add nearly enough height. Fortunately, the stranger was lofty enough that his perfectly groomed, thick dark hair stayed visible.
Another glance over her left shoulder confirmed the worst. Someone had figured out where she’d gone. A tall man in a perfectly fitted tuxedo appeared on the balcony near the entrance she’d just used.
He was not alone.
Mel bit back a groan of dismay. This was bad—very bad. With an imperious sweep of his arm, the man sent two burly security men scurrying into the crowd.
Looking for her.
Her throat went dry. Renewed adrenaline sent her pulse racing faster. Now she blessed her short stature as she ducked behind a man and woman who blocked the aisle. They chatted with a table full of laughing people, oblivious to the others around them. Mel managed what she hoped was a cheerful smile as she edged around the couple, aware of several startled looks from some of those seated there.
Cursing the shiny beacon of a glittery dress she wore, she kept moving. Her choices had been severely limited after Gary’s frantic call, and the borrowed dress had accomplished its original purpose. No one had questioned her right to join the noisy private party upstairs when she timed her arrival to coincide with a large, boisterous group.
Up there, the gaudy dress had been an asset. Unfortunately, most of the women down here had opted for black, which meant that any minute now one of the men pursuing her would spot the bright kelly-green color. If she could make it to the tall stranger she had a slim chance of getting away.
RODERICK LAUGHLIN DRUMMED his fingers in annoyance as he waited for the coats. His headache seemed to be growing in direct proportion to the noise. The blue haze of cigarette smoke wafting in from the balcony outside added yet another layer to his discomfort. He’d had more than enough frivolity for one evening. As soon as his companion came off the dance floor they were leaving.
Parties like this were Shereen’s forte, not his. To see and be seen was everything in a modeling career and Shereen relished every moment. Roderick, on the other hand, had never been fond of large crowds but he’d promised to bring her tonight, so he had. Still, enough was enough. In his opinion, there were better ways to start a new year.
The pain in his head lightened a bit as he pictured several alternatives. Unfortunately, Shereen wasn’t likely to want to spend the early hours of the new year in bed when she could be dancing and drinking and posing to be admired. Convincing her to leave would probably cost him a fortune for some trinket that had caught her eye. Roderick didn’t care. He wanted to go home.
The young woman manning the coatroom set aside some sort of textbook she’d been studying and returned promptly with his topcoat and the full-length sable fur that had been his Christmas present to Shereen. Shereen wasn’t interested in being politically correct and the coat had caused more than one furrier to throw up his hands in despair. She’d insisted on an exact match for her shoulder-length dark sable tresses. Now that brunettes were all the rage on the runway, the silver fox fur that had matched her hair last year was no longer adequate.
Roderick rubbed fiercely at his temple as he withdrew his wallet and generously tipped the tired-looking woman behind the counter. Anyone who could study an anatomy text in this crush deserved all the help she could get. Her face brightened in gratitude when she saw the bill’s denomination.
With her heartfelt thanks echoing in his ears, he shrugged into his coat and lifted Shereen’s. Mentally he had to admit that the garment had been worth all the effort. Shereen looked exquisite framed in fur, particularly when the coat was all she wore. But then, Shereen looked terrific in anything—and especially in nothing at all. It was her most endearing quality.
Roderick turned, deep in rumination of his new plans for ushering in the new year, and nearly bowled over the petite young woman who had sprung from nowhere to stand directly in his path.
“Darling! Thank you. Are we ready to leave now?”
In a single motion almost faster than the eye could follow, she lifted the sable from his careless fingers and disappeared inside. He only had an instant to notice the shocking bit of glittery green that posed as a dress on her provocative form before both were totally concealed in the voluminous folds of the coat.
“What the devil do you think you’re doing?”
She didn’t even look at him. Her gaze seared the crowd at his back. Instinctively, he raised his head to see what had caused the flash of fear that darkened her lively blue eyes. He was still surveying the crowd when without warning she turned back to him and stretched up on her toes. Clasping his face, she tugged it down to within inches of her own.
“Please help me.”
At least, that’s what he thought she said. Then her lips covered his, whisper-soft and tasting of champagne. Her hands delved beneath the tuxedo’s jacket and slid around his waist. Her enticingly feminine body arched boldly against him.
The unexpected kiss was urgent, lacking all trace of finesse. Reckless, almost frantic, her lips moved against his mouth. His shock and annoyance faded under the impact.
Her lips were incredibly soft.
The warm, velvety feel stirred an instant, unanticipated reaction. He took control of the kiss without making a conscious decision. Slowly he moved his mouth over hers in a gentle but insistent demand. Her lips parted in surprise. Roderick slid one broad hand beneath the threads of her long, silky hair and cupped the back of her head to deepen the kiss. She froze.
He’d meant to shock her, but he found himself strangely reluctant to let her go. He allowed himself another brief moment to trace the outline of her mouth with his tongue. Startled eyes opened in alarm. Bright crystal blue, they held his gaze as she stood rigidly in his arms. Her breath felt warm against his skin even as Roderick nibbled gently on her bottom lip. He was mildly astonished when she made no effort to pull free of his embrace.
“What are you doing?”
Her