The Bachelor's Cinderella: The Frenchman's Plain-Jane Project. Trish Wylie
figure out all the ways to make Fieldman’s come back to life. He and Meg oversaw the day-to-day operations, the cleanup of the building. He bought new computers, had the outside of the building sandblasted and had the new sign installed.
A photographer came and took photos of the interior, the exterior and of the three sample pieces of furniture Don Handry had managed to complete in record time.
Not trusting himself to spend too much time alone with Meg, Etienne drove himself, but the day came when there was no getting around what came next. He had a feeling Meg was going to…what was the term? Freak out just a little.
After everyone went home, he walked over to the open door of her office and peeked inside. She was bent over her desk, her soft, pretty hair swaying softly. As she worked, she ran those pretty long fingers over the keys of the keyboard gracefully, her eyes intent on the screen. She had no idea that he was there.
Etienne cleared his throat, and she jumped. One hand fluttered at her throat. She was wearing a plain white blouse and a navy skirt today. Very prim, except for the three red bracelets that clanked on her wrists and the red toes of her navy pumps. Meg certainly loved red. And red loved Meg, he couldn’t help noticing. It looked good against her pale skin. Which was as far as he was going to allow himself to take that train of thought.
“I’m sorry that I startled you, but I had something I needed to speak to you about,” he said.
“Of course,” she said, rising as he entered the room.
“I have to apologize to you,” he said.
“For what?”
“We have an appointment with some of the smaller local newspapers in—” he looked at his watch “—about forty-five minutes.”
Meg’s eyes widened. “Etienne, I’m—You know I’m not ready for this.” Her voice cracked and then it rose.
“You are. You know every plan we’ve made, every step we’ve taken. When I leave here, you’ll be the one in charge if you opt to stay. You’re the voice. You’re the face. You can do this, Meg. I’ll be with you,” he said. “Every step of the way.”
“I don’t know enough to do this.”
“You know you do. Already, you’re overseeing a lot of the operations.”
“But that’s different. People here are people I know. Some of them were here when I got here. They don’t mind when I trip with these new shoes and end up slamming into a desk. They just smile and go on. And when I laugh too loud or wear colors that clash, they don’t mind. It doesn’t matter. They don’t write it in a newspaper so everyone can read about it with their morning coffee.”
Etienne stepped closer. He took her hands in his own. “Meg, look at me.”
She did, and he was shocked to see that her eyes were glistening.
“You’re—Meg, you’re…Tears? I—Dammit, I didn’t tell you ahead of time because I didn’t want you to make yourself sick worrying. Now I’ve frightened you so much that you’re going to cry.” If ever a man wanted to kick himself, it was him right now, Etienne thought. “Meg…I’m…Forgive me, but…”
“No. I am not going to cry just because I’m a little scared,” she said, shaking her head vigorously. “It’s embarrassing and silly and unacceptable and juvenile and…I just won’t. I never do. Not for years.”
His heart split right there and then. She hadn’t cried for years and he was the jerk who had brought her to the verge. But he could see that she was going to be as good as her word. She was fighting her fear with every ounce of strength she possessed.
“Ah, Meg, I’m so sorry,” he said, pulling her to him, his arms going around her. “I thought that I could easily convince you of the truth, that you’ll be just fine. I won’t let you fall. I won’t sacrifice you.”
He wanted to look into her pretty brown eyes so that she could see that he meant every word. But Meg had hidden her face against his chest. She was probably embarrassed.
“Fine independent businesswoman I’m turning out to be. I ask for your help and then at the first hint of anything stressful, I’m running away and squawking. Etienne, I’m truly ashamed for carrying on this way,” she said, confirming his assumptions. “I should know better. It’s just…I’m not very good yet at being a public person with strangers. I haven’t learned enough yet.”
“You’re very good with me.”
“You’re different.”
“How?”
“You’re…you.”
He smiled as the muffled word echoed through his skin against his heart. He started to tighten his hold. She felt good against him, but suddenly she pulled back and looked directly up at him, straight into his eyes, her caramel eyes glistening, although no tears had fallen.
“I really am sorry for being such an idiot,” she said. “I…The only very bad explanation I can give is that…my parents had me when they were older. They had a grown daughter by then and they didn’t want another. In fact, they had been planning to divorce, but then I came along and they felt they had to stay married. My father might have been okay with me if I had been a son, my mother might have been okay if I had been pretty like Ann, but I wasn’t either of those things. I was…not what they had signed on for, and then, one of those rare days when my mother was happy, she swung me in a circle, playing, but I was too big and we fell. I cut my cheek. After that, she not only wished I was pretty like Ann, she wished she could wipe away the scar she felt she had caused. To her I was a reminder of the mistakes she and my father had made. After that, they more or less ignored me.
“I read a lot, camped out in front of the television and gained weight. My reticence, my awkwardness and my height made me stand out at school, and not in a good way, either. So, I kept to myself and I never learned how to interact with people the way most women do. Except for here where Mary protected me.”
“Meg, don’t criticize yourself,” Etienne said, stroking her hair.
She shook her head. “I didn’t tell you this so that you would feel sorry for me.”
“I don’t. You’re unique and I mean that in the best way.”
“It’s just…I’m sorry that I made such a fuss. It’s hard for me to be a public person. It’s what I want to be able to do. It’s why I asked you to help me, and all right, I’m past my little fit. I’ll be better in a few minutes.”
Etienne saw red. He absolutely shouldn’t have done this without telling her. What’s more, he should have known all this about her background. Many people, maybe even most suffered from stage fright, but Meg had been forced to apologize for her appearance and for her very existence to the two people who should have pledged themselves to nurture and love her. And here he had gone and made things difficult for her and she was actually trying to apologize to him!
He gazed down into her eyes, those earnest, lovely eyes. Her lips were parted and he just knew she was going to try to reassure him some more and tell him that she would be fine, that he was not to worry that he had ambushed her.
It was too much. Etienne gave a small tug and pulled her deeper into his arms. He took her mouth with his own and swallowed her soft gasp of surprise.
Her body molded to his and for several seconds she was still as he tasted her, breathed her in and worshipped her lips. She was soft and very sweet and…
Meg shifted against him. She looped her arms around his neck and tilted her head. Her lips slid beneath his own, and flame shot through him.
A small moan escaped her, driving him insane to have more of her. He deepened the kiss, took more of her. He plunged his hands into those soft curls to hold her still.
But she wouldn’t be still. Her body slid over his as she returned his kiss, and