Cinderella and the Playboy / The Texan's Happily-Ever-After (12 page)

“Much as I hate for the night to end, I don't want to be responsible for you being exhausted tomorrow,”
Chance assured her. He stopped a waiter to request the bill and moments later, they left the restaurant.

Despite needing sleep, Jennifer wished the drive back to her apartment wasn't quite so short.

“Wait,” Chance muttered as she twisted her key in the lock of her apartment door.

Jennifer paused, looking up at him, and he bent his head, his mouth covering hers in a kiss.

Sweet, sensual and so arousing that Jennifer's insides melted like warm chocolate, the kiss lured, enticed and made desire and need beat through her veins.

When at last he lifted his mouth from hers, she realized that she was pinned between his hard body and the wall next to her door. The cove of her hips cradled his, the hard proof of his arousal snugged against her abdomen, and the tips of her breasts ached under the pressure of his chest.

“Honey,” he rasped against her throat, “it's damned hard to leave you.”

She smiled, eyes half-closed at the caress of his lips against her skin when he spoke. “I know,” she murmured. “It's hard to let you go.” She planted her palms against his shirt and gently pushed.

He retreated a bare half inch, and his head lifted so he could look down into her face.

“But if you don't leave, I won't sleep and that's why you brought me home, remember? So I could sleep.” She wasn't sure if she was reminding him—or herself.

“Damn.” He sighed, a short gust of air that stirred the tendrils of loose hair curling at her temple. “You're right.”

He pressed a final hard kiss against her lips and stepped away from her. The loss of his weight and warmth made her want to grab him and pull him back.

A smile lit his dark eyes and his lips curved in a half smile.

“I know how you feel, honey. If you didn't have to work early tomorrow, I'd kidnap you and take you home to bed.” He reached past her and pushed the door partially open. “I'll see you tomorrow at the diner for breakfast.”

“Okay,” she whispered breathlessly. “Good night.”

The door clicked shut behind her and she twisted the lock, sending the dead bolt home.

“Did you have a good time?”

Margaret's voice behind her snapped Jennifer out of her daze.

“Yes.” She turned, carrying her books into the kitchen area to drop them on the end of the table. “I had an absolutely lovely time.”

Margaret's eyes sparkled behind the lenses of her glasses. “I'm glad—and I'd like to meet the man that put that glow on your face,” she teased.

Jennifer laughed. “He's pretty terrific, Margaret.”

“Good. It's about time you met someone terrific.” The older woman turned to collect her knitting, tucking the length of cable-knit red and cream-colored afghan into her bag. “I'm heading home so you can get to bed. Now what did I do with my book?” She searched and found a paperback mystery stuck between the cushions. She slipped the book into her knitting bag and took out a key chain. “Walk me to the door?”

“Of course.” Jennifer freed the dead bolt and opened her apartment, waiting in the doorway while Margaret crossed the hall to unlock and go inside her own home.

“Good night.” Margaret lifted her hand and closed the door.

Jennifer waited until she heard the click of the locks sliding home across the hall before closing and securing her own front door.

The apartment was quiet without Margaret's cheery presence. Jennifer turned off the living-room lights and went to her bedroom, switching on the bedside lamp before tiptoeing into Annie's bedroom.
The little girl was sprawled on her back, red-gold curls a tangle on the pillowcase and the blanket half on, half off the bed.

Jennifer straightened the blanket and tucked it in at Annie's waist before leaning over to kiss her daughter's cheek. Annie mumbled and stirred, rolling over to snuggle her face against the soft fur of the stuffed brown bear in her arms.

A surge of love and affection swept over Jennifer. Once again, she was caught off guard and staggered at the depth of her love for her daughter. Annie was a treasure and in so many ways, a constant source of surprise for Jennifer. The little girl enriched her life in ways she'd never envisioned before she became a mother.

And Jennifer loved every one of them.

She moved quietly back into her own room, stripped out of her clothes to take a quick shower, then pulled on her pajamas and climbed into bed and switched off the light.

After a long time, her world now seemed to be full and the future stretched ahead of her, filled with possibilities.

What could possibly go wrong?
she thought with a drowsy smile just before she fell asleep.

Jennifer's sense of well-being and happiness lasted less than twelve hours.

Due to working a split shift at the diner, she was alone in her apartment just before noon the next day. Annie was at school and Jennifer was almost dressed and ready to return for her second four-hour shift, padding about barefoot as she quickly dusted and neatened the rooms after assembling a casserole and tucking it into the refrigerator for Annie's and Margaret's dinner.

A knock on her door interrupted her and, thinking it might be Margaret, she hurried out of the kitchen. A quick glance out the apartment door peephole startled her speechless and she froze, staring at the man who stood outside in the hallway.

“What on earth is
he
doing here?” she murmured to herself, nonplussed.

The man knocked again, an impatient rap of his knuckles against the door panels.

Annoyed, Jennifer threw the dead bolt and yanked open the door. “Hello, Patrick.”

“Hello, Jennifer.” Her ex-husband smiled, exuding boyish charm.

His endearing smile had no effect on Jennifer.
Fortunately, she thought dispassionately, she'd been well and truly inoculated.

“What are you doing here?” she asked.

“I'd like to talk to you.” He peered over her shoulder and gestured at the room behind her. “But I'd rather not have this conversation in the hallway. Won't you ask me in?”

Jennifer narrowed her eyes, studying him. She knew very well that Patrick wanted something but she couldn't imagine what it could be. He'd blithely walked away from their short marriage before Annie was born and hadn't contacted her since.

Nevertheless, whatever he wanted to talk to her about, it was probably best done in the privacy of her apartment.

“Very well, come in.” Reluctantly, she stepped back and waved him inside.

“Nice,” he commented, his gaze running over the small rooms. “You always did have a natural ability for decorating, Jennifer.”

Jennifer ignored the comment, knowing full well his compliments were always charmingly insincere. “I have to leave for work, Patrick, so maybe you can cut to the chase and just tell me why you're here.”

His gaze sharpened with swift annoyance and then
he shrugged, his expression bland once more. “You always were appallingly direct, Jennifer.”

“I prefer to call it being honest,” she told him. “So…?”

“Very well.” He reached into the inner pocket of his suit jacket and took out a newspaper clipping, handing it to Jennifer.

She unfolded the newsprint, frowning when she saw it was the photo of her and Chance, dancing at the Founder's Ball, and the accompanying gossip column notation listing their names.

“I'm afraid I don't understand.” She looked at him, confused.

“It appears you're dating Dr. Chance Demetrios.”

“And if I am?” Jennifer couldn't imagine where this conversation was going. Granted, she hadn't dated anyone since the divorce but surely Patrick wouldn't care if she went out with someone.

“I don't know if you're aware, but I've finished med school and completed my internship.”

“Congratulations.” She eyed him, waiting, wishing he'd get to the point.

“I'm applying for various positions—including an opening in the research department at the Armstrong Fertility Institute.”

Jennifer stared at him, beginning to guess where
the conversation was going. “And you're telling me this…why?”

“Dr. Demetrios and his partner are doing cutting-edge research in his field. I want to be a part of that research team.”

Slow anger began to churn in Jennifer's midsection. “What does this have to do with me?”

Patrick smiled, shaking his head at her. “Jennifer, Jennifer,” he chided. “I'm sure you can see my point. I want you to use your influence with your boyfriend to move my name to the top of the hiring list.”

“No.” Jennifer shoved the newspaper clipping into his hand. “If that's all you wanted to talk to me about, I really have to get to work.” She walked to the door.

“How's Annie?”

Jennifer froze, hand on the doorknob, then slowly turned to stare at him. “I'm surprised you know her name.”

“Of course I know her name,” he said, faintly reproachful. “After all, she's my daughter.”

Unease shivered up Jennifer's spine. “I thought we resolved your connection to Annie when you agreed to give me full custody in return for my not asking for child support. You've never shown any interest in her before.”

“That's true,” he agreed blandly. “But I've been rethinking my position as her father. I'm wondering if I shouldn't ask the court to set up a visitation schedule so I can get to know my daughter.”

“You don't want to get to know Annie,” Jennifer told him, coldly furious. “You're using her to threaten me so I'll ask Chance to hire you.”

“You always were quick to grasp the basics,” he conceded. “I don't want to take you back to court and force you to let me have Annie for alternate weekends. If I were involved in demanding research, perhaps I would be too busy to have her with me, anyway.”

“This is blackmail,” she said, fighting to keep her words even. Anger warred with worry, threatening to make her voice tremble.

“Blackmail is such a harsh word, Jennifer,” he informed her. “I prefer calling this a…negotiation for mutual benefits.”

“You've always been good at hiding your selfish interests behind pretty words,” she retorted bitterly. “I won't do it, Patrick. I can't do it. Chance and I don't have that kind of relationship but even if we did, I wouldn't ask him to hire someone like you.” She pulled open the door and stood back. “Now get out of my house.”

“I suggest you think it over.” He moved toward her, stepped into the hallway. “I'll call you soon.”

“Please don't,” she insisted. “My mind isn't going to change.”

He merely smiled and walked down the hall.

Jennifer closed the door with quiet force and threw the dead bolt before she turned, the solid door panel supporting her when she slumped.

Eventually she'd learned Patrick hid a snake's personality behind the charming, handsome facade. Their divorce had certainly shown her a side of him that was unattractive and selfish, but threatening her with Annie's welfare if she didn't help him use Chance to further his career…well, it was beyond belief, even for Patrick.

Glancing at the clock again, she realized more time had slipped away than she'd realized.

“And now I'm going to be late for work,” she grumbled, hurrying to the bedroom to grab her shoes.

She wasn't sure how she was going to stop Patrick without endangering Annie, but she was determined to do so.

Jennifer was certain that the day that began with the unexpected visit from her ex-husband could not get any more complicated.

Never had she been so wrong.

Midafternoon found Chance pushing open the door to the diner and striding inside, pausing to swiftly scan the long room. He didn't see Jennifer and a wave of disappointment washed over him.

Damn.
He scanned the room again, slower this time, but still didn't see Jennifer's blond hair.

Enthusiasm dampened, he took a step toward his usual booth but paused abruptly, his gaze sharpening. A little girl sat in the back booth where he'd often seen Jennifer studying on her breaks. The child's head was bent over a book lying open atop the table, long red-gold curls falling forward over her shoulder as she focused intently on the crayon she moved over the page.

She looked up, her gaze unerringly finding his as if she'd felt his stare. Chance went still—he knew those deep blue eyes. They were duplicates of Jennifer's—same color, same shape beneath the arch of delicate brows. He had an instant mental image of a small curl of red hair tucked into the silver locket he'd found in his sheets after the unforgettable night Jennifer had spent in his bed. This child's hair had the same sheen of glossy, burnished red-gold. And the pixie face framed by that mane of curls was the same as in the locket's tiny photo.

Intrigued, he immediately changed direction.

“Hi, there,” he said when he reached the back booth.

The little girl studied him gravely, her blue eyes inspecting him with curiosity. “Hi.” Her childish voice was a clear treble. “Who are you?”

“I'm Chance. Who are you?”

“Annie.”

“Nice to meet you, Annie. You have blue eyes just like my friend Jennifer. Do you know Jennifer?”

“That's my mom!” A smile lit her face and she beamed up at him. “I'm waiting for her till she gets off work.”

“I see.” Despite his suspicions, Chance was stunned when the little girl cheerfully confirmed his guess. Jennifer had a child and she'd never told him. In fact, she'd never even mentioned being a mother. Why not? Was she keeping the child a secret? He glanced at the papers and books spread out over the tabletop. “What are you doing?”

“Coloring.”

He tilted his head to better view the page under her hand. “Nice,” he commented. The ballgown on the drawing of a gold-crowned princess matched the magenta crayon in her hand. “Who is she?”