Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After: Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texas Billionaire's Baby. Lois Dyer Faye
you grow up here in Boston?” she asked, settling for a standard, getting-to-know-you topic.
“No.” He shook his head. “I spent my childhood in upstate New York. I moved here when I took the job at the Armstrong Institute. What about you—did you grow up in Boston?”
“No, I lived in a small town in Illinois until I moved here last year.”
“What made you choose Boston?”
“I had a friend from high school who moved here. She encouraged me to join her. She loved the city, especially all the American historical sites. We used to visit a national historical treasure nearly every weekend.”
“Used to? Why did you stop?”
Jennifer shrugged. “Renee met the man of her dreams and it was love at first sight. They married after dating for three weeks and have been traveling the world ever since. He’s an archeologist and they’re currently living in Central America while he helps excavate a Mayan temple.”
“No kidding?” Chance looked intrigued. “Now there’s a job that sounds interesting.”
Jennifer laughed. “Every guy who hears about Renee’s husband’s job says that. There must be a frustrated adventurer hidden in every male on the planet.”
“Maybe.” He grinned.
The waitress arrived with their food, interrupting their conversation. Jennifer indulged in crepes drizzled with chocolate sauce while Chance tucked into a Spanish omelet. By the time they’d finished eating and had poured a second round of coffee, they were deep in a discussion of movies they’d seen.
“You like chick flicks,” Chance told her. “Most of the movies on your best-of list are romantic comedies.”
“I liked the movie Hunt For Red October and that’s not a chick flick,” Jennifer protested.
“No kidding—you like that movie?” He lifted his brows in surprise. “I’ve seen it about a dozen times.”
“Me, too.” Jennifer sipped her coffee. “Of course,” she added, “the film’s stars are Sean Connery and a young Alec Baldwin. To be honest, I’d be tempted to watch it over again just to see them.”
“So the big attraction isn’t the incredible underwater sub maneuvers or the great suspense plot, it’s the handsome actors?”
She considered the question, eyes narrowed, before nodding firmly. “Pretty much.”
Chance’s face lit with amusement, his deep, rich laughter drawing the attention of nearby diners.
Jennifer suspected her smile was besotted but she couldn’t help it. The sunlight gleamed in his black hair, laugh lines fanning at the corners of his eyes.
His gaze met his and his laughter died.
“Let’s go home,” he said roughly, the curve of his mouth sensual.
“Yes,” she breathed, caught up in the heat that flared between them. “Let’s.”
Jennifer woke slowly, stretching and smiling contentedly at the warmth against her back. A weight lay over her waist, anchoring her to the hard male body she lay tucked against and she realized Chance was curled around her, his arm holding her close.
There was a great deal to like about waking up with a man, she thought with a smile.
She opened her eyes. Just beyond the edge of the white sheet-covered mattress was the oak nightstand with a brass clock, its numbers glowing in the dim bedroom.
Her eyes widened. It was almost four o’clock. And Linda had promised to return Annie to the apartment by 6:00 p.m.
Her weekend was over.
She wasn’t ready to let it go. She’d lost track of the number of times they’d made love and yet she wanted more. But reality intruded and she bit her lip, knowing she had no choice.
Carefully, she lifted Chance’s arm and slipped out from beneath his hold. He muttered, protesting, and she froze beside the bed, holding her breath and hoping he wouldn’t waken. Then he shifted, sprawling on his stomach over the place where she’d lain moments before. His eyes remained closed and the tension eased out of his big body as he relaxed, clearly asleep again.
Jennifer lingered a moment, her gaze tracing the beard-shadowed line of his jaw, the black lashes fanning against his olive skin and the sensual curve of his mouth. The white sheet was bunched at his waist, leaving the powerful muscles of his upper body and arms bare.
Reluctant to leave him, she forced herself to turn her back and pad silently into the bathroom where she’d left her borrowed clothes earlier. Dressing quickly, she slipped through the connecting door to the hall and let herself out the front door of Chance’s town house.
As she hurried down the street on her way to the bus stop on the next block, she was assailed by a barrage of memories of the hours spent with Chance.
He was a man she could easily fall in love with, she realized. She hoped fervently that she hadn’t already done so—because she knew there wasn’t, could never be, a future for them together. She reached the end of the block and a bus wheezed to a stop, the doors opening. She climbed the steps, determined to put Chance Demetrios out of her mind.
Whether she could put him out of her heart remained to be seen.
Chance knew the moment he woke that Jennifer was gone. He swept his hand over the sheet but felt no warmth left by her body. He sat up, scrubbing his hands over his face, then tilted his head, listening. The complete silence was broken only by the soft ticking of the bedside clock.
“Damn it,” he said into the stillness. He’d wanted to take her home. He hadn’t counted on being so relaxed and wrung out from making love this morning and last night that he’d sleep through Jennifer’s leaving.
Nails clattered on the oak flooring and Butch nosed the hall door open wider before bounding across the room, tail wagging. He laid his head on the bed, big brown eyes pleading with Chance.
“What?” Chance groaned. “I suppose you want to go out?”
The big rottweiler barked, one sharp, approving sound that made Chance wince.
“Not so loud, buddy,” he muttered. “I’m getting up.”
He tossed back the sheet and sat on the edge of the bed.
Butch barked again and nosed the sheet a few inches from Chance’s hip, burrowing beneath the sheet until his head was out of sight beneath white cotton.
“Hey, cut that out.” Chance tossed the sheet aside. Silver glittered and he pulled the sheet aside to find a necklace peeking out from under the pillow. He grabbed the chain and locket just before Butch could reach it. A low whine rumbled from the dog’s throat and his brown eyes were reproachful. “Oh, come on.” Chance ran his hand over Butch’s head and scratched him behind his ear. “You know this is Jennifer’s. And you know you’re not supposed to have it.”
Butch plopped down on his haunches and eyed the locket, dangling by its chain from Chance’s fingers.
The oval-shaped locket had a delicate latch. Chance felt as if his fingers were giant-size as he carefully maneuvered the tiny mechanism. The locket opened and he held it on his palm. One side held a photograph of a little girl, her impish face smiling up at him. The other half held a tiny curl of auburn hair, gleaming brightly against the silver metal.
Cute kid. I wonder who she is? He ran the pad of his index finger over the small, bright curl. And I wonder if this is her hair?
He had no answers, but he was going to ask Jennifer as soon as he saw her again. There were lots of things he wanted to know about her. Their one date— and the best sex he’d ever shared—had only led him to be more intrigued about her.
Butch whined and nudged his damp nose against