Page 39 of The Billionaire's Cinderella

10

Ella

“No, I don’t get it,”I say on a shaky laugh tinged with relief and maybe a bit of hysteria. I’m having a tough time dealing with the emotional highs and lows of the last couple of days, to be honest. “If you’re so wild about me, why act like such a hardass on the ride home?”

“A hardass?”

“Yes! I thought you were sick of me. You were acting like my ex did on our last weekend away right before he dumped me. That’s what men do. I thought you couldn’t wait to get rid of me and get back to your regularly scheduled life— Stop looking at me like that. I didn’t imagine it.”

He’s all lowered brows and squared jaw right now, the sort of look David Beckham and male models use when glaring out at you from the pages of GQ.

“Obviously, I’m getting this wrong,” he says after an endless pause, his voice gravelly. “This thing with you is freaking me the fuck out.”

Utter disbelief gets the best of me. “Ryker. I don’t have the power to freak men out. Trust me.”

He makes a disparaging sound. “You have the power to freak me out. My last weekend away with someone? It was a day and a half too long. Way too much togetherness. We had nothing in common. Nothing to talk about in more than five-minute increments. I’m sure I also got on her nerves, but she was more willing to pretend that I was because of the perks that come with my lifestyle. I was tempted to make up some business emergency in Singapore just so I wouldn’t have to fly home with her. You get me? But with you—”

He breaks off and shakes his head at himself.

“What about me?” I ask quietly.

Like magic, a warm front sweeps away all the hardness from his face. He melts right in front of me, his glittering eyes watching me with that slow smolder that I love so much.

“I want more. More time. More laughter. More surprises. More sex. Just more.”

By now I feel as though I’m glowing from the inside out as I stare at him. I really need to watch myself around this man. It would be so easy to relax my guard around him—a second is all it would take, I’m guessing—and discover that I’d fallen hopelessly in love.

What the hell would I do then?

“That’s the kind of thing it seems like you would mention before you dropped me off,” I grumble, trying to control my smile. “You barely brought the car to a complete stop at the curb before you kicked me out. And then you threw my overnight bag out after me and zoomed off into the night.”

Ryker flashes a grin that engages both his dimples and his crow’s feet. He seems boyish again. Relaxed. Happy. It’s enchanting to see him like this, especially after feeling so certain that it was over between us.

“I keep telling myself not to come on like a ton of bricks. Don’t be needy. Don’t get clingy. Let the poor woman catch her breath. Let her sleep in her own bed. Don’t be a stalker. It won’t kill you to spend the night alone in your own damn apartment. Only stalkers do crazy things like standing in the rain outside someone’s apartment.” The rain seems to be letting up now, but he uses the back of his hand to wipe his face as he laughs at himself. “You’re not giving me enough credit. I thought I did a decent job of being cool and calm.”

“You did a great job,” I say, raising my brows. “You did such a great job that I was going to have cold stir fry, half a bottle of wine and a pint of ice cream for dinner, cry myself to sleep and update my profile on all the dating websites tomorrow morning.”

My little attempt at humor snatches all the amusement from his expression.

“I’m not going to make you cry, sunshine,” he says, cupping my face in his hands and leaning his forehead against mine. His skin feels wet but still radiates a powerful warmth that does a real number on the night’s cool breeze. “And you are done with dating websites. Done.”

I’m smiling, but he doesn’t let that stop him. He kisses me with a hot urgency that leaves me breathless and agitated. It’s no surprise that he’s got me where he wants me once again. I’m so grateful to be back in his arms that I don’t even mind the flash of his pirate’s smile when we pull apart.

“So?” He presses a final kiss to my forehead and eases back enough to see me while still caressing my cheeks with his thumbs. “Are we spending the night here or at my place? I vote for here. I need to get inside before I drown. Plus, I want to see you on your own turf.”

The suggestion catches me completely by surprise. It shouldn’t, but it does.

I always feel so unworthy. It’s like the hallmark of my life. My touchstone.

The anvil chained to my ankle.

I stiffen and look away, startled to see that the rest of the city is still here. Taxis and other cars whizzing by on the street. A few passersby on the sidewalk, probably walking to the gelato shop on the corner. A regular summer night, even if it feels as though everything is changing.

“What is it?” he asks, and I hear the concern in his voice.

I want to be honest with him about my financial situation relative to his, but my pride is a real nightmare. She hates it when I reveal any sign of weakness or low self-esteem. I may be ninety percent weakness and/or low self-esteem on any given day, but I’d better not admit it.

On the other hand, he’s probably noticed already. And he can’t seriously expect the rest of the world to live like he and his brothers do.

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