Riches to Rags Bride / The Heiress's Baby: Riches to Rags Bride / The Heiress's Baby

An inordinate sense of accomplishment brought a smile to her face. “I did it,” she said to no one in particular.

“Did what?” Lucas’s unmistakable deep voice came from the doorway, and Gen whirled to find him studying her intently.

Automatically some major fluttering began in her stomach. She frowned at her own foolish reaction and squelched it until only a few tiny flutters remained.

“I …” She held out her hand. “It’s dumb.”

He waited.

“I cleaned an entire room by myself. I mean, it’s not perfect.” Because now that he was here, she was noticing that she had missed some dust on the windowsill and there were still a few cobwebs here and there and …

“It’s good,” he said.

Which might have seemed like faint praise to most people, but to a woman used to no praise? His words were truthful. Not overblown. He hadn’t said “great,” which she would have known was a lie. He had said “good” … which was the precise word to describe what she’d done.

“I …”

“Say thank you, Genevieve,” he suggested.

“Yes. Thank you. Did you need something? Is there something I need to do?”

He came into the room then. “Actually, there is. Have Thomas and Jorge gone home?”

She nodded. “Ten minutes ago.”

“Good. We need to talk.”

Uh-oh, the fact that he wanted her out of earshot of anyone else …

“Is there something I’ve done wrong?”

“No. It’s simply that I’ve decided that it would be a good idea if you stayed here instead of your apartment.”

“Here?” Away from that rat hole where she’d been living? Away from Mrs. Dohenny’s shrieks and accusations about the remaining few dollars she still owed? A sudden whoosh of relief rushed in. And then … it rushed out again. There was something calculating in Lucas’s expression and tone. Something wasn’t quite right.

Perhaps what wasn’t right was the fact that she had been so excited she hadn’t yet asked the obvious question. “Why?”

He shrugged. “It’s more convenient here, for one thing. Having you here will save time, speed up the process. Are you telling me that you’d rather stay where you are than live here?”

No. No. No. She just suddenly felt that there was something she was missing. Just as she had with Barry. And she felt as if a man was once again making personal decisions for her when the last time that had happened she had ended up with her self-esteem wrecked and her world in tatters.

“Mr. McDowell,” she began, trying to create some distance. It didn’t work. He raised that lofty, dark eyebrow. “Lucas,” she amended. “I know my apartment might be a bit … distasteful. And it’s probably a nuisance having to pick me up and bring me home, but I can work around that. You don’t have to drive me. Even with the construction, there’s another bus stop only a mile and a half away. I can walk from there.”

“I’m not worried about driving into your neighborhood, Genevieve. I lived in places like that long-term and I know what it’s like. It’s no place for a princess.”

She raised her chin. “I told you, I’m not a princess. Or even a debutante anymore. What I am is a grown woman, Lucas.” She wanted to add that she was a strong woman, but that would be a lie. She wasn’t there yet. Not nearly. Right now she was awkward, with no street sense, and she was making a lot of mistakes. But she wanted to be strong. And much as she wanted out of her apartment, letting a man make that choice for her, even a man she needed to please to keep her job … well, she had to try to have some say in this.

“You’re a woman, an adult,” Lucas admitted, his voice dark and deep, sending shivers through her. “But if someone bigger, stronger tried to take everything you own, you couldn’t prevent that from happening.”

Her courage and confidence were failing her. She wasn’t used to arguing. She’d never been good at it; her parents had always won every disagreement. Furthermore, Lucas was her boss. Arguing with him felt really wrong, but she just couldn’t seem to stop thinking about how Barry had bullied her and betrayed her. She couldn’t seem to stop trying to assert herself. “You don’t know that I couldn’t defend myself. I could have had kickboxing lessons.”

He tilted his head. “Have you?”

Darn her need for honesty! “No.”

At least he didn’t look triumphant the way Barry would have when he had won a point.

“Genevieve,” he said, looking suddenly tired and exasperated. He rubbed his palm over the back of his neck. “Why does this mean so much to you?”

She looked down. “I can’t afford to move here. I still owe a little money to Mrs. Dohenny, my landlady.”

“I’ll pay it.”

“No! No! I haven’t earned that much yet. And—”

“And …?”

She looked up then, daring to stare directly into those mesmerizing see-all gray eyes. “I know this sounds foolish.” And she was so tired of being thought foolish or inconsequential. Everyone she’d ever loved had thought of her that way. “The thing is … I’m penniless because my fiancé, who happened to be my financial advisor, tricked me out of my money. When that happened, I was humiliated, angry and clueless about how to go on, because all my life I’d let other people make my decisions.

“That was when I realized just how precious and important and empowering independence really is. So, I really need to make my own way in the world. No charity involved. No letting other people make my decisions. Of course, I understand that you have the right to control anything regarding my work, but please. This is where I live. It’s not work.”

He studied her for a minute, frowning.

“I apologize if I’ve made you angry,” she began, which seemed to make him really angry. He cut her off with a sudden slashing of his hand.

“If you want to be truly independent, you should speak your mind. No apologies. No letting me push you around when I’ve overstepped the boundaries of our work relationship.”

She bit her lip.

“Just as you did a moment ago,” he emphasized.

“All right. Then we can stop talking about my apartment? And I’ll take the bus from now on.”

Lucas opened his mouth to speak but the doorbell rang at that moment. He tilted his head and started to move toward the door at the same time as she did.

Genevieve stopped. So did Lucas. Then he waved her through. “My apologies. You’re the project manager, and

Angie’s House and any visitors here are in your hands. We’ll continue this discussion later.”

Which meant that she hadn’t won. Yet.

Stubborn, overbearing, infuriating man. No wonder women fell all over themselves trying to attract his attention. It must be the prospect of attaining the unattainable.

Thank goodness she wasn’t that susceptible.

Lucas watched Genevieve walk away, knowing he was handling this situation all wrong.

The truth was that Genevieve tied him up in frustrated knots. He admired her for sticking to her guns, but he needed to have her settled, clear of his conscience and out of his private thoughts. If she was here, safe, he wouldn’t have to think about her at all beyond the job. He would have compartmentalized her situation, controlled the danger zones, the loose ends, the tough, emotional stuff that had once made his life a nightmare. Plus, if she truly wanted to be empowered …