Page 4 of Seducing Cinderella

“Okay, last one. Place your hand in front of your stomach and try to hold it there as I pull it away from your body.”

Clenching his jaw and his left fist, he tried thinking of something other than the sickening pain shooting from his shoulder. But as bad as the pain was, the fact that he was so weak and couldn’t hide it was much worse.

“All right, you can relax now.” She made some notes in his file, then turned back. “On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the worst pain you can imagine, how are you feeling at the moment?”

“A four. Maybe even a three.”

She arched her brow and crossed her arms over her chest. “Spare me the macho shit, Andrews. I’m not here to challenge your virility. If you want me to do my job, then you have to be one hundred percent honest with me.”

He pinned her with a glare that made men twice her size reconsider stepping into the octagon with him, but Lucie didn’t even flinch. He would’ve commended her for it had he not been so aggravated with the whole situation. “Fine. A six,” he grumbled. “But some days are better than others.”

“Don’t worry, that’s normal. Now lay face down on the table. I want to do a couple more things.”

“You got awfully bossy in your old age, you know that?” He was a tad disappointed she didn’t rise to the bait but offered a sarcastic Mm-hmm instead as he arranged his body on the table. With his left arm up to cradle the side of his face, he let his eyes close as she began to work on him.

Her delicate fingertips probed the muscles around his shoulder. He had no idea what she was looking for, but he hoped she searched for a while. Her touch felt so much better than how he was usually handled. Of course, Scotty’s hands weren’t as soft, but it was more than that. It was the technique she used; like he wasn’t just a fighter made of hardened muscle that could handle rough, prodding fingers, but rather a man who’d asked for a gentle massage after a long day.

He heard a soft sniffle, and it set his mind to wondering what had upset her so much. Growing up he’d practically been Lucie’s second older brother, and it bothered him to know something was wrong.

Whatever it was, she was doing her best to avoid— “Ah, shit!”

“Sorry.”

“Yeah, right,” he said wryly. “That was probably payback for using your floppy bunny as a lawn-dart target.”

He couldn’t see her face, but he heard the smile when she spoke. “I forgot all about that. Jackson got grounded for three days, and my mom had to sew all the little holes together. She told me he was a war hero who was going through surgery to get patched up before receiving a medal from the president.”

“Your mom was always good for a story. Jax and I counted on her to give us all our background information for our pretend missions as kids.”

“Mom was something special all right. I still miss her bedtime stories.”

Lucie and Jackson’s parents had died in a car accident the summer he and Jax graduated high school and she was only thirteen. Jackson chose to raise Lucie instead of pawning her off on another relative, which is why he wasn’t as far in his MMA career as Reid. It was a selfless and honorable decision, and it was obvious he’d done a damn fine job.

Just then it hit him. “It’s a guy, isn’t it?”

Her hands stilled for only a moment, but it was long enough to give him an answer. “Is it tender when I press here?”

Like bad heartburn, an unfamiliar lividity rose up for the general male population until he could aim it at the one who deserved it. Pushing up with his left arm he swung his body around to face her.

“What are you doing? I’m not done.”

“You are until you tell me who he is and what the hell he did,” he growled.

“Reid—”

“Quid pro quo, Lu. You tell me who made you cry and why, and I promise to not find out on my own, hunt him down, and kick his teeth down his throat for putting that look on your face.”

He almost regretted throwing down the harsh threat when she blanched, but if that was the only way he could get her to open up, then so be it. “Here, hop up on the table. We’ll switch places,” he said as he stood. When she opened her mouth to brook an argument, he narrowed his gaze to show her he wasn’t kidding. With a resigned sigh she did as he wanted, albeit not happily.

“There, now you’re the patient.” Despite the pain it caused in his shoulder, he braced his hands on either side of her hips, preventing an escape should she decide it was the better alternative. “So, Miss Miller,” he said looking into her soft gray eyes, “tell me where it hurts.”

…

Lucie still couldn’t believe Reid Andrews was in her therapy room. When they were younger, she’d trailed after her older brother just to be in his best friend’s presence. But since Reid had always treated her like a big brother would, much to her young heart’s dismay, she’d always looked up to both him and Jackson.

Now she was having a hard time lookingawayfrom him.

He’d always been toned in high school, but this was ridiculous. The man redefined Michelangelo’s idea of perfection, making the statue ofDavidlook like a flabby wuss. His dark blond hair was cut close to his head and brushed forward and to the center, creating the tiniest of faux-hawks, and giving his model-perfect good looks a slight edge. Then there were the tattoos…good Lord, the tattoos.

---