A Millionaire for Cinderella

Even if the whole situation was built on a lie, she thought, guilt washing over her the way it always did.

She wasn’t proud of her behavior—add it to a long list of regrets—but she made amends every single day by working hard and taking care of Ana. You wouldn’t find a better housekeeper and companion on Beacon Hill. She would never—ever—jeopardize the gift Ana had given her.

Tell Stuart Duchenko that, though. If he learned she’d lied her way into the job, he’d kick her to the curb before she could say but... And who knows what he’d do if he learned what she used to do for a living before finding Ana? She shuddered to think.

The sound of rustling papers caught her attention. Looking over, she saw Stuart pinching the bridge of his nose. The man looked worn-out. Patience had to admit, for all his jerkiness, he appeared genuinely concerned for his great-aunt. The adoration Ana talked about seemed to run both ways.

“Mr. Duchenko?” A small African-American nurse in a bright pink smock rounded the corner, bringing them both to their feet. “Dr. Richardson just called. He’ll be down shortly to talk with you, but he wanted you to know that your aunt came through the surgery without problem and is on her way to recovery.”

“Oh, thank goodness.” The words rushed from Patience’s mouth, drawing Stuart’s attention. Their eyes met, and she saw agreement in their blue depths. In this, they were on the same page.

“Can we see her?” he asked.

“She’ll be in recovery for several hours, I’m afraid,” the nurse replied with a shake of her head. “In fact, considering the hour, they might not move her until morning. You’re better off getting some sleep and coming back tomorrow.”

Patience watched as a protest worked its way across the man’s features. She had a feeling if he insisted, he’d get his way. Better judgment must have stepped in—either that or fatigue—because he nodded. “How long before Dr. Richardson gets here?”

“He said he was on his way down, so I don’t think it’ll be more than five or ten minutes.”

It turned out to be closer to twenty. When he did arrive, Dr. Richardson gave a succinct report, without a whole lot of new information. They’d inserted a plate and some screws to stabilize the break. Ana came through the surgery without issue. They’d monitor her throughout the night for complications. No, he wasn’t sure how long she’d need to stay in the hospital.

Still, Patience left the waiting room feeling that Ana was in good hands. Another plus: Stuart was on the phone so she was spared any more accusations. From here on in, she’d do her best to avoid the man.

A pair of angry green eyes greeted her when she unlocked the door to Ana’s brownstone. Patience wasn’t intimidated. “Don’t give me attitude, mister. This whole night is your fault.”

With what Patience swore was a huff, Nigel jumped down from the entryway table and ran toward the kitchen. An urgent wail traveled back to her ears a second later. “Puleeze,” she called, “like you were ever in danger of starving.”

Arms hugging her body, Patience made her way along the corridor, thinking the slap of her sandals against her feet sounded abnormally loud. It felt weird being in the brownstone alone. While Ana went out a lot, the woman was seldom gone past eight o’clock and so her absence hung thick in the emptiness. A gleam caught Patience’s eye as she passed the dining room. The silver set she’d been polishing when Ana fell still sat on the table, the cloth on the floor where she’d dropped it upon hearing Ana’s cry. The moment replayed as she curled her fingers around the soft material, the image of her savior crumpled at the base of the stairs making her nauseous. Thank goodness, Ana was going to be all right. Tomorrow she would work on making the house perfect for her return. Starting with making sure the tea set gleamed.

Nigel had resumed his meowing. Patience tossed the cloth on the table. “Oh, for goodness’ sake, I’m coming. Five minutes will not kill you.”

She turned around only to walk into a tall, muscular wall. “What the—” Why hadn’t she brought the teapot along with her as a weapon?

Stuart Duchenko arched a dark eyebrow. Even in the partially lit hallway, his eyes shone bright. “Did I startle you?”

He knew perfectly well he had. “How did you get in?”

“Same way you did. With my key.” He held up a key ring. “Or did you think you were the only one Ana gave access to?”

“Don’t be silly. I didn’t hear the doorbell is all.” They were way too close. Close enough she could smell the breath mint he’d obviously just finished. She wasn’t used to sweet-smelling breath, not from men anyway. It caught her off guard, which had to be the reason she didn’t step back at first contact. She stepped back now, and spied a pair of suitcases at the base of the stairs.

Seeing where her gaze had gone, he gave a shrug. “I sold my condominium before leaving for LA. Until I find a new place, this is more convenient than a hotel.”

Convenient for what? Keeping an eye on her?

It was as if he read her thoughts. “Ana made the suggestion back when I first left. Of course, I’m sure she wasn’t expecting to be in the hospital at the time. My being here won’t be a problem for you, will it?” he asked. The gleam in his eye dared her to say that it was.

Patience would be damned if she’d give him the satisfaction. “Of course not. Why would your staying here be a problem for me?”

“Extra work for you. I know you’re used to it being only you and Aunt Ana.”

Another veiled comment. The man was full of them, wasn’t he? “Extra work won’t be a problem. Cleaning is cleaning. Besides, like you said, it’s temporary, right?”

“We can only hope. I figure I’ll stay until Ana gets back on her feet. Make sure there aren’t any problems.”

What kind of problems? Was he afraid Patience would take off with the silver? Why didn’t he just come out and say what was really on his mind?

“You don’t trust me, do you?”

“No, I don’t.”

Finally, the truth was out in the open. She appreciated the bluntness. Beat phony friendliness any day. Didn’t mean she wasn’t going to set him straight though.

“Your aunt trusts me. Are you saying Ana isn’t a good judge of character?”

She stepped back into his personal space, making sure to maintain eye contact and letting him know his answer didn’t intimidate her one bit. The posture brought her close enough that she could smell his skin. Like his breath, his body smelled clean and fresh, despite having been traveling all day. An antsy, fluttering sensation started in the pit of her stomach. Butterflies, but with a nervous edge. The notion that she was out of her league passed briefly through her mind.

Stuart’s eyes stayed locked with hers. A Mexican standoff, with each of them waiting for the other to blink. “My aunt has a generous heart. I, on the other hand...”

“Let me guess. You don’t.”

Patience sensed rather than saw his smile. “I prefer to lead with my head. Less chance for mistakes.”

“Except, in this case, you’re already mistaken.”

“We’ll find out, won’t we?” he said. “Since I’ll be living here, we’ll have plenty of time to get acquainted. Who knows what secrets we’ll learn about each other?”

Patience managed to wait until he disappeared upstairs before hissing. What was it with him and secrets?

You didn’t exactly help your cause, did you? Challenging him like that. A smart person would have let his comments pass, refused to give him the satisfaction of a reaction. But, nooo, she had to call him out. Might as well hold a sign over her head reading I’ve Got a Secret!

So much for leaving her past behind. She should have known that a future built on a lie—even an innocent one—wouldn’t last. Ana was going to be so disappointed in her.

She bit her knuckle, forcing down her panic. No need to start packing just yet. This bluster was probably nothing more than a scare tactic to put her in her place. To make up for not having a say in hiring her, no doubt. A few days from now, after seeing how well Patience did her job, he’d back off and leave her alone.

It could happen, right?

CHAPTER TWO (#ulink_7ed77647-7b77-5dcb-bba2-823258fa6fd1)

THERE WAS A weight vibrating on his chest. He must have left the door open when he came upstairs. “It better be light out, Nigel,” he muttered. Freeing a hand from under the covers, he felt around until his fingers found fur. Immediately, the purring increased as Nigel leaned into the touch. A sad voice in his head noted this was the most action he’d had in his bed in way too long. “Hey, be careful with the claws, buddy,” he said when the cat began kneading the blanket. “I might need those parts someday.” You never knew. A social life might spontaneously develop. Stranger things had happened.

At work, people considered him a workaholic, but the truth was, he’d never been what people would call popular. He discovered early that being a Duchenko heir meant being judged and misunderstood. As a kid, his awkwardness was labeled snobbery. As he got older, his social desirability was measured in terms of his bank account. He had to be constantly on guard, assessing the motives of every person that crossed his path. The one time he hadn’t...well, that had taught him two more lessons: Don’t let sex cloud your judgment and even family members will screw you over. Except for Ana, that is. Ana was the one family member who loved him for him.

Nigel’s head butted his hand, a not so subtle way of saying more petting, less thinking. Giving a half sigh, Stuart opened his eyes, then blinked when he saw Nigel in perfect focus. He’d forgotten to take out his contact lenses again. No wonder his eyes felt as if they had sand in them. What time was it anyway? Yesterday had wiped him out so badly he barely remembered falling into bed.

Not too wiped out to go toe-to-toe with the housekeeper, though. It was a bit arrogant of him showing up without warning, but he’d wanted to catch her off guard. To see how she’d react to learning she wouldn’t have the run of the brownstone.

Turned out she reacted to the blind side better than most of his legal opponents.