The Cinderella Rules Read online

  And maybe she really shouldn’t care about all this shit. No one had bothered to tell her what the hell was really going on, so if she said something inappropriate, it wasn’t her problem, now, was it? Pepper hadn’t said anything about not discussing certain topics. But then, she supposed Pepper might have assumed Darby wouldn’t lead off with any information. She’d seen her sister “at work” on several occasions, and Pepper’s modus operandi generally had a whole lot more to do with carefully placed nods and laughter, combined with carefully exposed sections of flesh, than it did any kind of cerebral interaction.

  Darby let her hand flutter above her knee for a moment, in that indecisive, yet dismissive way women did. Ditzy women, anyway. She was a natural blonde, after all, so maybe along with her Inner Cinderella there was a little Inner Bimbo inside of her, just dying to get out.

  It could happen.

  “Or maybe it was Belgium,” she said with a light laugh. “Honestly, my sister and I don’t generally involve ourselves in our father’s business dealings, other than from a social standpoint.” She bluffed her way through a dismissive head-tilt-one-shoulder-shrug combo. “Pepper travels a great deal with her friends, and I’m wrapped up with the business back West.” She noticed that they were approaching the Kennedy Center, and breathed an inward sigh of relief.

  “What was it you said your family business venture dealt with?” he asked.

  Feeling bolder now as they pulled around in front of the sleek white structure, she shot him a real smile, perhaps a bit more cocky than was strictly intended, and with one hand on the handle, said, “I don’t believe I did mention it. Look, here we are.”

  Darby tugged on the handle the moment the car stopped, and at the precise moment the valet pulled the handle from the outside, which nearly caused her to fall out of the limo and almost into the gutter.

  “Oh, dear. I had rather hoped we’d corrected that little problem you seem to have with making entrances.”

  Darby’s head snapped up. “Vivian?”

  Her Glass Slipper godmother smiled grimly at her as Darby untangled her legs from the limo, hopping a little bit on her heels until she steadied herself.

  “Why, yes, darling.” Then she leaned closer and said, “You didn’t think we’d abandon you during your first outing, now, did you?”

  Darby’s mouth went slack. “Is that really why you’re here?”

  “Actually, it’s a combination of things, as always. Never do one thing when you can be doing three.” Her eyes widened a little as her gaze went beyond Darby’s shoulder.

  Darby knew that look. Any woman would know that look. Stefan must have emerged from the limo.

  “My heavens.” Vivian sighed. Darby wasn’t sure, but she might have even purred. “Why do one thing, indeed,” she murmured, then glanced back at Darby with a bright, conspiratorial smile on her face. “You will introduce me, darling, won’t you?” She shifted a little, smoothed her hair, then her skirt. Her ensemble was as outrageous as ever—a black, sheer-sleeved top that bloused just perfectly over the pencil-straight skirt, that naturally ended well above her knee. All set off with a hat that only she, or maybe Joan Collins, could pull off with any real panache. “As a matter-of-fact, if you’re not otherwise inclined, I might suggest we bend the rules and commit the social faux pas of swapping dates for the evening. He is just a business acquaintance of your father’s, correct?”

  Darby could only gape at the unexpected proposal.

  “Press your lips together, dear,” she said. “And use liner next time; you’ve all but chewed off the color. You did bring—”

  Darby pulled back before Vivian could pull a Kleenex from her sleeve and dab at her mouth for her. “I can’t possibly switch dates with you. I’m supposed to escort—”

  “Honey, I don’t think he’ll mind. And the way you popped out of that limo made it seem as if you weren’t exactly yearning for more alone time with him.”

  She was right about that. “But—”

  “But nothing. Besides, I don’t think my date will mind the switch at all. I brought him along for you, anyway.”

  Now Darby’s mouth dropped fully open. “I beg your pardon?”

  Just then, she felt a hand press warmly at the base of her spine. It didn’t feel at all cold . . . or alienlike. Which meant—

  She turned, and it was all she could do not to throw herself into Shane Morgan’s very human arms, and beg him to take her away from all this. Far, far, away. Very uncharacteristic behavior for a woman used to pulling her own weight. But then, everyone else was behaving however the hell they wanted. Why not her?

  “Hiya, sweetheart,” he said into her ear.

  Out of view of everyone, or so she hoped, he stroked a finger down her spine, stopping just above the curving slope of her buttocks.

  He grinned. “Miss me?”

  Cinderella Rule #9

  Public displays are never encouraged. However, never underestimate the value of well-timed flirtation. For both professional gain . . . and personal advancement.

  —VIVIAN

  Chapter 9

  Shane glanced over at Vivian, who smiled innocently at the two of them. So, she’d done more than rescue him . . . she’d set him up. He’d make sure to reward her amply later. “Thank you,” he mouthed.

  Vivian nodded, then shot her gaze behind Darby and wiggled one eyebrow—a talent she was especially good at. Shane understood the signal. “So,” he said conversationally as he stepped back to encompass Darby and her guest, “why don’t you introduce us.”

  It was only when Darby moved that Shane got his first eyeful of the man she was in town to escort. Far from the stooped geezer he’d imagined—hoped for?—the man was the living embodiment of every Norse mythological god he’d had the misfortune to learn about during one of his Scandinavian boarding school pit stops.

  “Vivian, Shane, may I introduce you to an associate of my father’s, Stefan Bjornsen.” She smoothly turned her smile on Bjornsen and said, “Stefan, this is Vivian dePalma and Shane Morgan.”

  Shane didn’t miss the quick flicker in Bjornsen’s eyes, though his smile never wavered as he extended a perfectly manicured hand. “A pleasure.”

  Shane gave his hand a quick, measuring shake. Strong, but smooth-skinned. No calluses. No character. His affable smile wasn’t quite as sincere as he’d hoped for. “Likewise, I’m sure. So, how are you enjoying Washington? Is this your first visit?”

  “No, I’ve enjoyed your fair city in the past.” He paused for a brief second, as if he were about to say more, but smiled instead and placed a hand on the center of Darby’s back. “Never with quite so lovely a hostess, though.” He shifted his glowing goldenness to Darby, and there was no doubting the message he was telegraphing.

  It wasn’t that he was claiming Darby as much as tossing out a challenge of sorts. Not atypical when two alpha males find themselves in the presence of a desirable member of the opposite sex, but a challenge Shane would nonetheless do well to walk away from. He had quite enough on his plate at the moment. Better to be the bigger man, and concede the field of battle without firing a return volley. Darby had been one of the better distractions he’d ever come across, but pursuing a few more days with her wasn’t worth this kind of trouble.

  He decided to wind up the small talk ASAP and shuffle a sure-to-pout Vivian inside and lose them both in the crowd. He could always send a bouquet of “It was fun. If you’re ever in Bali, look me up” flowers over to the Landon homestead later. In fact, he was already shifting back by Vivian’s side when he made the mistake of glancing at Darby.

  She’d subtly shifted away from Bjornsen’s touch and was busily trying to mask her irritation behind a face he almost didn’t recognize, for all the makeup and gloss. Then she shot him a quick “Can you believe his crap?” look that was pure Darby. He had to hide his bark of laughter behind a sudden cough. Then her face smoothed, her eyes warmed just the right number of degrees, her mouth curved in a smile that, if he hadn’
t met her before her Cinderella transformation, he’d have thought she’d perfected in the cradle. With a graciousness that had Vivian beaming in approval, she stepped in and said, “Why don’t you both join us?” She tossed her hair over her shoulder in a silky wave and swung expertly back to Bjornsen. “You don’t mind, do you, Stefan?”

  Shane struggled not to shoot Bjornsen a smug smile of his own. She’d played him perfectly. Shane, too, as it turned out, since any ideas he’d had of bowing out now had been firmly pushed aside. What was one evening? If anyone could keep his mind off his worries for a few hours, it was this woman.

  And although she’d made it perfectly clear that she didn’t need a rescue, he was more than happy to play temporary White Knight. A slightly tarnished one, anyway.

  Shane moved, expertly shifting Vivian into the midst of the fray. Right where she best loved to be. “Vivian, I wouldn’t be surprised if you and Mr. Bjornsen share any number of acquaintances.”

  Vivian took her cue, as he had known she would. She gave his arm a little squeeze of thanks, then moved in for the kill. With a smile that would make a lesser man quail in his Gucci leathers, she expertly slid her arm through Bjornsen’s. “Surely you’ve been out to Marrowood and met the Kingsleys?” she asked sweetly, already guiding him into the throng.

  If Bjornsen was frustrated by the coup d’etat that had just been staged, he didn’t show it. He smiled down at Vivian, whose teased updo barely brushed his bicep. “I don’t believe I’ve ever had the pleasure.”

  “Well, we can certainly rectify that. They do a lot of import/export business in Northern Europe.” She batted her perfectly placed false eyelashes. “Not a bad contact to have.”

  Shane and Darby exchanged a look as the five-foot-nothing Vivian steered the towering Bjornsen deeper into the crowd as expertly as she might lead a lapdog on a leash.

  “My, you are a tall one” was the last thing they heard Vivian murmur before she and Bjornsen entered the soaring white building.

  Darby turned to Shane. “I bow to the queen. A hundred years at Glass Slipper and I could never master that.”

  “She is something. But don’t underestimate yourself. You played the field with the strategy of a four-star general.”

  She laughed. “Beginner’s luck. Or maybe it was just desperation.”

  Shane stared at the back of Bjornsen’s gilded head, easily spotted above most of the crowd, as he and Darby followed Stefan and Vivian into the building and started down the flag-draped Hall of Nations. “He’s not what I was expecting.”

  “Me, neither.”

  “Is he giving you a difficult time?”

  Darby smiled dryly. “Why, are you going to offer to beat him up after school for me if he is?”

  Just like that, he had to touch her. Actually, he wanted to do a great deal more. If she was trouble, then he was already hip-deep in it. So what else was new? He slid her hand through his arm as he guided them through the fray. “What, you don’t think I could take him?”

  “It might be fun to watch you try. But we can’t just go beating up guys because they’re better-looking than you.”

  Shane was all ready with a rejoinder, but stopped with his mouth open. “Because what?”

  She hooted, then quickly ducked her head when other heads turned in their direction. “You should have seen your face,” she said, then quietly snickered. “Nothing wrong with your ego.”

  He pulled her closer and slid his fingers into the palm of her hand, stroking the soft center. He was rewarded with the slightest falter in her step, the tiniest catch of her breath. It was enough. “I thought we covered that in the limo.” He pushed his fingers through hers. “And in the dressing room.”

  She gave him a look, then jerked her hand free, but he kept it trapped beneath his elbow. He leaned in close. “Maybe we should sneak off into a corner of the cloakroom,” he whispered as they drew closer to the line queuing up to check their silk wraps and beaded jackets. “I could refresh your memory.”

  “You wish.” She tried to snort, but the sound was seriously compromised by a slight gasp when he let his knuckles drift over the swell of her breasts.

  “I know.” He shifted back to an acceptable distance as they entered the red-carpeted grand foyer, lest people start to talk. Not that he gave a damn about himself, but it was clear that Darby had her hands full with Bjornsen, and didn’t need the extra hassle of tongues wagging over the sight of her canoodling with the Morgan black sheep. So he’d make sure that when they did canoodle, it was in private. Which meant no more public teasing. Only it was so much damn fun with her. There he went again, thinking about having fun. Bad Morgan, bad.

  They shuffled past the immense bust of J.F.K. as they drew closer to Eisenhower Theater, where the evening’s program was to be held. “My God,” Darby whispered, “there’s enough jewelry on display right here in this foyer to make a sizable down payment on the national debt.”

  Shane bit back the urge to trace his fingers along her neck. “I think you look quite stunning without all that colored ice hanging off your ears.”

  “Yeah, but what about draped around my neck, halfway up both arms, and sewn into every stitch of my clothing?”

  “Don’t talk to me about stitches of clothing. I’m trying to be good.”

  She shot him a look. He shrugged and winked, then said, “So, your sister failed to fill you in on a few details, did she? Have you talked to her since meeting Stefan the Stupendous?”

  She fought not to laugh. “You really have to stop that. Now I’ll think of that every time I look at him, thanks.”

  “What, you weren’t already?”

  “Maybe. But your term was more accurate.”

  Shane shot her a look. “Gee, glad I could help.”

  “You’re a regular Samaritan.”

  “I’ll have you know that I have every intention of continuing my good deeds.”

  “I bet,” she said, eyes dancing. “But I’m afraid you’ll have to squeeze them all into the next hour or so. Mr. Stupendous and I are joined at the social-obligation hip for the next three days straight.”

  They paused at the rear of the crowd, close to the doors that led to the River Terrace, with its excellent view of the Potomac. He debated stealing outside with her and forgetting the event altogether. “Maybe you should give me a rundown of your schedule.”

  She looked at him as if he were out of his mind. “I’m having a hard enough time pulling this stunt off. For whatever reason, Bjornsen is already suspicious of me playing hostess rather than my sister, and you want to stalk the fringes of society so you can lure me into some sort of scandalous sexual fling.” She paused a beat, then said, “You know, I’m kind of liking that scenario.”

  He’d started to ask her what she meant about Bjornsen being suspicious, but that last part tripped him up. “And I’m really liking how our minds work the same way. Tell me something, since you’ve been with me for the past ten minutes or so, have you thought once about your makeup, hair, or proper society etiquette?”

  “No. Which is probably exactly why I shouldn’t fall for your little schemes.”

  “Little schemes, is it now? What happened to scandalous sexual fling? I liked that much better.”

  “You’re incorrigible. Which, of course, you know. With anyone else, I’d be completely and totally turned off by that, but somehow with you . . .”

  Shane tugged on her hand as he pushed the door open, quickly ducking around the back side of one of the towering pillars that marched along the terrace front.

  “What’s wrong?” she said, darting a look back through the door to the foyer.

  He didn’t care if anyone had witnessed their sudden defection. “I don’t want this to be the last time I see you.”

  Her mouth stayed open for a beat, then snapped shut.

  He couldn’t help himself. He suddenly had to take just one minute out of the swirl of social chaos to let her know that, while their teasing banter was fun and exciti
ng, his attraction was more than sexual, more than finding another ship in the night that he could bump hulls with while they waited to set out to sea again. And the very thought that in three days he’d have no way to see her again, short of showing up at her spread in Montana, had, in the span of the last ten minutes, somehow become a completely unacceptable notion.

  Of course, that would likely freak her out. Hell, it was freaking him out. So he told her the truth she could handle. That they could both handle. “And I want to kiss you so badly right now, I ache.”

  “I—I do, too,” she managed, then forced a grin that didn’t hide the concern in her eyes. “Why the sudden seriousness?”

  “I’m not a complete scoundrel, you know.”

  She feigned a pout. “And here I was, so counting on that. Well, I guess this is good-bye, then.” She pretended to pull away, then dropped the act when he didn’t laugh and go along with her. “Okay, now you’re beginning to worry me. I don’t think I’ve seen you remain unsmiling or unteasing for more than two minutes since we met. I count on you for that, don’t you know?”

  “I could say something completely ridiculous right now, like I’d like to believe you could count on me for far more than that. Only I couldn’t promise you that you could. And I’d hate like hell to ever disappoint you.”

  Her attempts to tease him out of this little moment disappeared completely. “Are you okay?” she asked quietly, and with such sincerity, that he felt a momentary pang for worrying her at all.

  But the fact that she did care meant too much to him to shrug off. Other than the godmothers, he essentially had no one. And, until lately, that had been perfectly fine with him. But right now, he needed someone. Just for himself. Maybe he was the selfish bastard Hal accused him of being, after all, because just then, he couldn’t seem to find the strength to put her needs ahead of his own.