The Glass Shoe (18 page)

She reached up to touch his cheek with her fingertips. "1 wasn't trying to deceive you, Ryder. I mean, not you specifically."

He smiled. "I know.
One night to be Cinderella instead of Amanda Wilderman?"

She had to laugh, albeit weakly. "I lost a bet. My two cousins set the whole thing up.
The costume, the shoes, the wig, and the limo.
Everything.
It was their present to me, because they thought I was getting cynical.
A night to be anonymous, to believe in fairy tales."

"But you didn't believe in princes."

"No. Long ago I stopped expecting men to be princes. The whole time I kept telling myself how absurd it was. I even meant to take off the mask at midnight. But I couldn't. I was afraid that if you knew who I was, it would spoil everything. So I ran." She managed another laugh. "I never meant to drop that shoe, I swear. It just happened."

Ryder chuckled suddenly. "No wonder you were so appalled when I showed up here."

"I felt like a fool," she confessed in a small voice. "And then I had to tell you I was using Mother's name. I wasn't about to admit to having been Cinderella—especially since, for all I knew, you didn't even remember her."

"I remembered her. Oh, how I remembered her." He kissed her gently. "I had pushed her to the back of my mind because I was involved with you so quickly. But Amanda, I couldn't forget her. When I realized that she was you, I was delighted."

She heard something in his voice, a kind of restraint, and felt tension seep into her body.

Ryder felt the reaction, and his arm tightened across her middle as he smiled at her quickly. "I have to apologize to you, beloved."

The endearment sent such a rush of happiness through her that she almost forgot to ask.
"For what?"

"The things I said to you yesterday. I wanted to get through to you, to make you respond to me emotionally, and I resorted to shock tactics. It was wrong, and cruel, and I'm sorry."

Amanda shook her head. "I think I needed to hear some of those things you said. It...
it
shook me up. I was being so careful to protect myself, to avoid pain—"

"No, Amanda, your reaction was the natural one. You'd been hurt. Of course you protected yourself. I was pushing too hard, expecting too much of you too quickly."

"I should have risked more. I—"

"It was too soon for you."

She gazed up at him, her eyes a little fierce, and said suddenly in a raw, shaking voice, "I love you. Ryder, I love you so much."

He caught her in his arms, lifting her against him, his face buried against the warmth of her neck. She could feel him shudder, as if some dreadful tension had snapped.

"Thank God," he muttered thickly. His eyes were burning silver as he raised his head to meet her gaze. "I was afraid you wouldn't be able to love me. Afraid you couldn't trust me enough not to hurt you."

Amanda smiled up at him with a glow in her eyes he'd never seen before. It wasn't, he knew, the unshadowed trust of a child. It was the trust of a woman who knew all the potential pain trust brings— and was willing to risk it.

"You shook me off that fence," she said softly. "You made me see that by hoarding the love I felt for you, by locking it away inside me, in the dark, I was hurting myself. I have to trust you. I love you too much to have a choice about it."

He kissed her, over and over, holding her tightly in his arms and murmuring love words in a fierce, hoarse voice. Her response was instant, fiery, and her own voice was shaken by the intensity of what she felt.

The force caught them, and for the first time neither of them held anything back.

It was late that afternoon when Amanda closed the front door and stood in the foyer holding a manila envelope. She tapped the edge of it against one hand thoughtfully. It was bulky, securely sealed, and in the upper left-hand corner bore the logo of Wilderman Electronics.

She knew what was sealed within, since she had discussed the details with both her uncle and the CEO of her company at considerable length the day before. And she knew as well that in terms of dollar value, Ryder couldn't possibly offer a better deal for the rights to the patent.

She knew, now, that whatever the outcome of this "fight," nothing would change between her and Ryder. She also knew that he would manage to build Foxfire until it was competitive with her own company, because he was too honest and too ambitious to have it any other way.

And Amanda had expectations now. She thought that one day Foxfire and Wilderman Electronics might possible merge, or join forces in some other way.

One day.

"A bit late, isn't it?" Ryder asked briskly as he came in. "You said early afternoon."

"The driver told me he got stuck behind a snow-plow
. "
She looked at him with a tiny smile. "Is yours ready?"

"Yes.
Up in that room that used to be mine.
Cyrus says hell have an answer for us by tomorrow morning."

She handed him her envelope. "Then you do the honors and take this up to him."

Ryder weighed it in his hand and lifted a brow at her. "The best deal you can offer?"

Amanda's smile widened. She felt secure enough in their love to be unworried by which of them would acquire the rights to Dunbar's patent. "You told me to fight. In that envelope is the offer we would have made Dunbar—and more. It's the best offer we could possibly make."

He bent his head to kiss her briefly. "Good."

"Does it really matter now?" she asked him curiously.

"Yes. I'm going to make a point. It's why I wanted you to fight me in the first place."

Mildly Amanda said, "It sounded like you wanted me to fight because you didn't want to win by default."

"That too."

"I thought pride was a sin."

"Not pride.
Arrogance.
You said so."

Amanda thought about that,
then
studied him speculatively. "You're very sure of yourself. I wonder why."

"Sweetheart, I can't lose." He kissed her again. "I've already got you."

"Yes, but—"

"Patience.
I'm not ready to make my point yet. You'll just have to wait until Cyrus gives us his answer."

She had to be content with that.
And was.

Since she and Ryder couldn't stay away from each other for more than ten minutes at a time, Amanda didn't get very much work done that day. She was already framing a mental apology to her uncle for abandoning the project halfway through, because she knew she'd return to Boston with Ryder.

She didn't think Uncle Ed would mind, particularly since she had a sneaking suspicion that he had offered her this job more to appease Samantha than out of desperate need. Whatever had happened to overset Sam's plans, she had obviously intended to get Ryder out here one way or another.

As far as Amanda was concerned, it had worked out fine.

She woke the next morning even later than usual— sort of. She had actually awakened fairly
early,
seduced from sleep by the scent of the coffee Ryder had brought her. Then she was seduced again, very thoroughly, and participated in her own seduction with such intensity that the aftermath became a sated, peaceful sleep.

When she woke the second time, she was alone in bed, which didn't surprise her. Ryder, she had discovered, had enough energy for three people, and although he channeled a considerable amount of that into lovemaking, there was always plenty left over.

She took a shower and got dressed, and was sitting on the bed brushing her hair when Ryder came in.

"Hello," he said, dropping two manila envelopes on the nightstand and then bending down to kiss her. The position was obviously unsatisfactory to him, because when Amanda became aware of her surroundings again, she found herself lying back on the bed with him smiling down at her.

"If," she said, "we could bottle that, we could both retire."

"Technology will never be able to bottle that," he said with conviction.

"Then we'll keep it our secret."

"Agreed.
Now, shall we take care of business before we get down to pleasure?"

Amanda glanced toward the nightstand. "You've obviously seen Cyrus. He turned us both down?"

"No. He's gone, by the way. Said he had to get back, and to thank you for an enjoyable stay.
And for your offer."

She blinked. "He accepted yours?"

"Uh-huh." Ryder was matter-of-fact.

Her first feeling was one of surprise, quickly replaced by satisfaction for Ryder's sake—and curiosity. "What did you offer him?"

He sat up and reached for one of the envelopes on the nightstand. Amanda pushed herself up as well, and accepted the sheaf of papers he handed her.

"See for yourself."

Amanda was no stranger to contracts, and swiftly located the relevant paragraphs. She read carefully, silently calculating that Ryder's offer would net Cyrus Fortune less than half of what her own company had promised. Then she read the final paragraph. She lifted a stunned gaze to Ryder. "I don't get it," she said somewhat weakly.

Leaning back on an elbow on the bed, Ryder said gravely, "In the course of casual conversation he mentioned that he'd always wanted a particular thing—and it isn't the kind of thing you buy—much less buy for yourself."

"You aren't going to—"

"No, of course not.
I told you I didn't approve of that kind of thing. But I have a friend who wants to sell his."

She stared at him for a long moment,
then
began to giggle. "Wait until the members of the board find out what beat us."

Ryder grinned at her. "When you want something from somebody, the first thing you do is find out what they want. Then you can bargain."

"I'll remember that." She sobered, and leaned back on the bed to face him gravely.
"And your point?"

He nodded. "Why I wanted you to fight for the deal. You avoided expectations because you didn't want to be disappointed. With this deal you couldn't help but expect to win; it was the only rational way to look at it, since you knew damned well you could outbid me."

"Yes.
And so?"

He reached out to touch her cheek gently. "My point is that winning is never certain. And losing is never certain. But you should always expect to win. You should always have a goal worth fighting for."

Amanda smiled slowly. "I love you, you know."

He pulled her over into his arms. "I love you too, Cinderella. But with the best will in the world, I can't be a prince."

"Can't you?" she murmured, tracing the outline of his lips with one fingertip.

His arms tightened around her, and his eyes burned silver. "Tell me how, sweetheart."

She held her voice steady. "Princes... fulfill expectations. I have only one."

Ryder gazed up into her heartbreaking green eyes for a long moment. "I want to spend the rest of my life with you," he said simply. "Marry me, Amanda."

Her smile grew, lighting her eyes with a glow of sheer happiness. "That was it," she whispered.

"Manda—" Samantha stared down at the dog and nudged his limp form with one cautious foot. "What on earth is wrong with him?"

"You startled him bursting through the door like that," Amanda told her. "He was already tense from the flight out here, and very nervous. He fainted."

"Fainted?"

"He'll be all right in a minute." Nemo was, in fact, already stirring.

Samantha shook her head as one who refused to ponder unfathomable things. "Oh."

"What was the rush anyway?" her father asked, looking up from his breakfast.

Sam went around the table to her place and slid into her chair. She looked across at Amanda and Ryder who, along with Edward Wilderman, had been enjoying a peaceful morning meal. "Well..."

"Give," Amanda invited firmly.

"Oh, it was just that I thought it'd be perfect, and I can't imagine what on earth happened to it. I mean, I didn't think about it last night when you two got here because you were married already and it was so exciting." Almost immediately she added in an aggrieved tone. "Though I still think a big church wedding—"

"Samantha, I love you dearly, but the thought of giving you a chance to arrange a wedding filled me with profound misgivings." Amanda winced.

Sam's green eyes were innocent.
"But why?
Such a perfect ending to the story.
So romantic.
You in your costume and Ryder in his.
Both of you with crowns.
And a huge church with a long aisle like in The Sound of Music. It would have been so great."

Ryder looked at his new wife and grinned. "Now I understand what you warned me about."

Amanda nodded. "I knew you had only to meet Samantha to appreciate her."

"Hey, guys," Sam said mildly, "I'm still here."

"We know," Edward murmured. "And you didn't answer the original question, Sam. What was the rush?"

Leslie, entering the dining room just then in a hurry but without the violently banging door that had so startled poor Nemo, immediately demanded of her sister, "Did you tell them yet?"

"She was about to," their father said patiently. "Sit down, Les. Sam?"

Samantha looked at Ryder. "After Manda dropped the shoe that night, did you get it? And keep it?"

"Yes."

She sighed. "Well, at least you'll have one of them, then. I was hoping... But it'll be a terrific memento of the night you met. You can put it on a cushion under glass or something.
A great conversation piece."

Amanda and Ryder exchanged glances and then, in mutual silent agreement, looked at Edward Wilderman.

"This time," he said, "she's lost me."

Samantha looked mildly frustrated. "You people are terribly dense this morning."

Helping herself to bacon from a tray on the table, Leslie said, "Some stories can be told from the middle, because everybody knows how they start. But if they don't know, you should start at the beginning."

Sam looked at her, then at the others. With exquisite clarity she said, "It's gone."