The Millionaire's Cinderella. Anne Marie Winston
some other woman.”
The ragtag pair faced him. The big one was several inches taller than the doctor and looked just as threatening. “Maybe we don’t want another woman.”
Rio wrapped one arm around Joanna in a protective embrace. She heard a click and realized someone had produced a knife or a switchblade. Her throat constricted, her body stiffened. Then she realized it was the doctor who had the weapon when the giant glanced at Rio’s hand that Joanna couldn’t see.
The man backed off, looking paranoid. “Okay. Take her. She ain’t that great, anyway.” He turned away, his partner close on his heels muttering, “Crazy cop.”
Rio braced his hands on Joanna’s shoulders and turned her to face him. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern.
“I was handling them just fine.”
“Looks to me like he was doing all the handling.”
“I’m sure he’s harmless. He certainly couldn’t get away fast enough from you. Then again, maybe it was the knife.”
Rio dropped his hands and produced the weapon in question from his jacket, snapping open the lengthy blade with a click. “I’ve had it since I was thirteen. It’s dull as dirt, but it looks like it could do some damage.” He retracted the blade and slipped it back into his pocket.
“Obviously it was convincing enough,” she said.
“Either that, or he thinks I’m your husband working undercover. He probably has some pot stashed somewhere. So is it true?”
Joanna couldn’t help but smile, mainly from relief. “He didn’t offer me any pot, just a walk on the wild side.”
Rio’s smile came halfway, but was no less effective than a complete one. “I meant the thing about your husband being a cop.”
“I’m divorced, and no, he wasn’t a cop.” He wasn’t much of anything. “Chances are my ex would’ve tried to pay those creeps to leave me alone, unless he decided to let them have me.” Joanna clamped her mouth shut. She couldn’t believe she’d said such a thing. Never had she talked so openly about Adam to anyone. She wasn’t inclined to let her bitterness show.
The doctor streaked a hand over his scalp. “Sounds like good riddance on all counts.”
She couldn’t agree more. She also didn’t understand Rio Madrid’s sudden appearance, even though she certainly appreciated it. “What are you doing here?”
“I came looking for you, and I’m glad I did.”
So was Joanna, but she wouldn’t make that admission. “Is something wrong with Mrs. Gonzales?”
“No, she’s doing great.”
“Then what can I do for you?”
“I thought I’d try to convince you to have that cup of coffee.” He studied her for a long moment. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Really.”
“You’re shaking.”
“I’m cold.” She was also lying.
Stripping out of his jacket, he put it around her shoulders. It smelled like leather and the spicy scent that had washed over her sparked her fantasies, that one memorable night in his arms.
“Better?” he asked.
She was somewhat warmer, but not as warm as she’d been when he’d held her close to his side. “Much, but now you’re going to be cold.”
He rubbed a hand across his chest, covered only by a thin black T-shirt. “Don’t worry about me. I’m hot most of the time.”
Joanna had no answer for that, at least not a verbal one. Right now she was heating up fast in response.
“I take it you don’t own a car,” he said.
“I do, but it’s at home, broken down.” A perfect match for her apartment.
“Then I’ll take you home.”
At that moment, the bus pulled up to the curb, all squealing brakes and spewing fumes. “That’s not necessary. My ride’s here.”
Rio nodded toward the two thugs now boarding the vehicle. “You really want to do that?”
She looked at the bus, then back at him, unsure of which road to take. “Well, actually…”
He raised his hands, palms forward. “I promise I’ll keep my hands on the steering wheel. You’ll be safe with me.”
Joanna didn’t feel at all safe with him, not that he presented a physical threat, or at least the kind that the seedy jerks had posed. But there was something very dangerous about Rio Madrid, the kind of danger that a woman could easily take pleasure in. The kind Joanna would be smart to avoid.
She also didn’t like the thought of him seeing where she lived, a crime-ridden neighborhood on the far side of town. But more so, Joanna hated the prospect of getting on the bus with two questionable characters, so she found herself saying, “Yes, if it’s not too much trouble.”
This time Rio’s grin came full force, a sensual explosion. “No trouble at all.”
If only Joanna could believe that she wasn’t borrowing more trouble with Dr. Rio Madrid.
Rio took the narrow streets slowly, surprised by the place Joanna Blake called home. Not that he hadn’t seen its kind before. Every town had one, an area full of lost souls caught in the throes of poverty. Not only had he seen it, he’d lived it until he’d turned fifteen. By that time good fortune had played a part in his future and he’d moved up in the world—a world he’d never quite fit into.
He passed the rows of rickety apartments and small clapboard houses, noting a lot of activity on the streets, and none that looked within the law. Probably a lot of drug deals going down, gunrunning, all kinds of dangerous happenings—things the woman beside him should never have to be exposed to.
He sent a quick glance in Joanna’s direction. “Do you live alone?”
She continued to stare straight ahead. “Yes, I do.”
He wondered about the boy in the picture. Maybe he’d been wrong. “No kids?”
“Actually, I have a son.”
As he’d suspected. “But he doesn’t live with you?”
“No.”
Rio’s curiosity got the best of him. “He lives with his dad?”
“No. He’s with my mom in the Texas Panhandle.”
“That’s a long way from here.”
“Yes, but I don’t have a choice at the moment.”
Rio hated the pain in her voice. “Why not?”
She sighed, an impatient one. “Just look at where I live. It’s not fit for most adults, much less a child.”
“Then why don’t you move in with your mother?” As if that were any of his business.
She shrugged and continued to stare out the windshield. “I wish I could, but I can’t. There are almost no job opportunities in my hometown. I have a lot of debts, and working in a larger city gives me more pay. I’m hoping to get back on my feet this year, find a better place to live so I can move my son back here with me.” She sat forward and pointed. “Up that next alley. You can park beside my car. It’s the ugly white one.”
Rio turned the truck up the potholed pavement and to the space next to the car she’d indicated. Behind them sat a brown brick building, three floors high, shutters hanging out of kilter from windows covered by burglar bars. The scraggly lawn was littered with debris and so was the alley, with several old tires stacked against the building among