The Millionaire's Cinderella

Taking a deep breath, she unlocked the door but left the chain intact until she peeked outside. After verifying it was the doctor, she slipped the chain and allowed him entry.

She felt uneasy, self-conscious, when he surveyed the efficiency apartment that consisted of only a small kitchen and dining/living room area that also served as her bedroom. The lone bathroom with its rusty pipes and chipped tile could barely qualify as closet-size although her clothes hung on the shower-curtain rail, the only place available.

“It’s not much,” she said after tolerating the silence for a few more moments.

“I’ve seen worse.” His gaze traveled toward the water-stained ceiling while he noted the sound of an overloud stereo shaking the walls from excessive bass.

“My neighbors like to party,” Joanna said.

“Sounds that way.” He turned his attention back to her. “How long have you been here?”

“Almost two months.” Two months too long.

His took a slow visual excursion down her body. “And you’re still in one piece?”

“So far.” She could very well come apart at the seams if he didn’t stop looking at her that way.

He slipped his hands into his back pockets. “I think I found the problem with your car. There’s a loose wire leading to the starter. I’m pretty sure I fixed it.”

“That’s wonderful news.” The man was too amazing for his own good. “Have you always worked on cars?”

“I’m good with my hands.”

She had no doubt about that. “I’m glad it’s minor. I wasn’t sure how I was going to pay for major repairs.”

“Don’t get your hopes up yet. I still need to make sure I’ve found the problem. If you’ll give me your keys, I’ll see if the car starts.” He wrapped one hand around his nape and rolled his head on his shoulders. He looked exhausted.

Joanna felt incredibly selfish. “Why don’t we have some coffee first? We can check it when you leave.”

“Sounds good to me.”

She stepped back in the kitchen and took the pan from the stove to pour water into each cup. “I hope instant’s okay. It’s all I have.”

“Do you have a phone?”

She nodded over one shoulder. “Right there on the wall. Help yourself.”

He moved into the small space beside her, bringing with him the scent of night air and incense. Turning on the faucet in the kitchen sink, he began washing the grease away from his hands. “I don’t want to make a call. I want to make sure you have some way to communicate in case you have trouble.”

“Yes, I do, and it works.” For now. She was in danger of losing the service if she didn’t pay her long-distance bills in a timelier manner. But she wouldn’t give up her only means of communication with her child, even if it meant keeping the heat turned off.

While she stirred the coffee, he continued to watch her as he dried his hands on a dish towel. His presence made her wary. As much as she hated to admit it, Joanna was very drawn to Rio Madrid—his heady aura, his dark exotic good looks—though that seemed unwise. But he wasn’t the kind of man a woman could easily ignore— even a woman who had no intention of getting involved with anyone.

After he tossed the towel onto the counter, she handed him one steaming mug. “Do you want anything in it?”

“Just more coffee. I like it strong.”

“Oh.” Joanna couldn’t manage anything else when he reached around her to add another spoonful of grounds to the cup, his chest brushing against her shoulder. That simple contact had her knees threatening to dissolve like the three spoonfuls of sugar she’d heaped into her own coffee.

He leaned back against the cabinet. “Are you feeling calmer now after your encounter?”

For a moment she wasn’t sure which encounter he spoke of, the pleasant one a moment before or the disgusting bus-stop experience. She sipped her coffee, yet tasted nothing. She needed more sugar, less Rio to distract her. “I’m calmer, but I’m also feeling a little stupid. I should have walked back to the hospital when I first noticed the big one.”

“They probably would’ve followed you.”

“Could be. Never trust a man with a tattoo.”

He frowned, then his mouth turned up into a worldrocking grin. “Oh, yeah?”

Setting his cup on the cabinet, he faced her and tugged the hem of his shirt from his waistband. Before Joanna could respond, he slipped the shirt over his head, taking the band securing his hair with it. And there he stood, bare-chested and gorgeous, his hair flowing to his shoulders like an ebony waterfall.

Before Joanna could ask just what he thought he was doing, her eyes centered on his chest. Lean muscle defined his torso; a triangular tuft of dark hair covered the space between his nipples. Although she knew better, she couldn’t stop her gaze from tracking the path leading to the band on his low-riding jeans that he had managed to unsnap without her noticing. Slowly he lowered his zipper partway, leaving her speechless, excited, unable to move. Then the tattoo came into view.

Below his navel, a black jungle cat horizontally spanned the tight plane of his abdomen, interrupting the trail of masculine hair leading downward. Joanna’s mouth dropped open but she snapped it shut to muffle her sharp, indrawn breath. The tattoo looked powerful, provocative, impressive.

When Joanna finally looked up, she found his smile absent and his expression disarming. “Does this make me untrustworthy?” he asked in a low, spellbinding voice.

Her gaze traveled back to the tattoo and she took in the details, while the awareness that he was watching her sent electricity racing along her nerve endings. As far as Joanna was concerned, this particular artwork made him that much more sensual, seductive, mysterious. She had the overwhelming urge to touch it, to see if it was as silky as it looked. She was as drawn to that tattoo as she had been to its owner on New Year’s Eve— as she was tonight. Without regard for common sense, she breezed a fingertip across the cat—only to be stopped by the doctor’s grip on her wrist.

He released a slow, strained breath. “Normally I might say, ‘Feel free to keep touching,’ but I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Not unless you realize you’re stirring up trouble.”

Joanna’s eyes moved to the obvious bulge below the waistband of his jeans, which were faded to a bleachedout blue in some hard-to-ignore places. Her face flamed from mortification, from totally forgetting herself, forgetting whom she was with, what she was doing. Again.

She dropped her hand to her side but couldn’t bring herself to contact his powerful golden gaze. “I’m sorry. It’s just that…I don’t know. It looks so soft.”

“Take my word for it, it’s not.” His tone was wry, his voice grainy, deep and deadly.

She raised her eyes to his, finding them as enticing as they had been after he’d kissed her that night in the ballroom. Grasping for an innocuous question, she asked, “Is it a panther?”

He looked down at the tattoo. Joanna couldn’t seem to stop herself from looking, too. The muscles in his abdomen clenched as he ran one sturdy, square finger along the jungle cat’s back, much the same as she had, causing Joanna to shiver. “It’s a jaguar. My onen, or so my mother told me.”

“Your what?”

He redid his jeans, slipped the shirt over his head and secured his hair back in the band, much to Joanna’s disappointment. “Onen. My animal, or the animal assigned to me at birth. My mother was of Mayan descent. She believed in the folklore.”

“So you’re Mayan?”

“That and a few other things. Spanish royalty, reportedly a white missionary a couple of generations back. My family has a strong history of forbidden love.”

“Forbidden” pretty much summed up Joanna’s reaction to this man. An enigmatic, unpredictable man who held her imagination captive, kept her fantasies churning and her pulse erratic. “Where’s your mother now?” she asked, searching for something that might take her mind off his unmistakable aura, his blatant sensuality.

A fleeting sadness passed over his expression. “She died a few years ago. She was a good woman, a little misguided in her beliefs, but she was charitable to people in need.”

“Like her son?”

His smile crooked the corner of his lips, a decidedly cynical smile. “Don’t peg me wrong, Joanna. I enjoy my success and all that it brings.”

“But you helped the Gonzaleses, knowing they didn’t have any insurance and not much money.”

“I do that on occasion, but I still have paying patients. I’m not opposed to making money.”

Exactly something Joanna’s ex would have said, only he had been inclined to involve himself in get-rich-quick ploys, not honest work.

The conversation lulled as Rio Madrid continued to scrutinize her with penetrating eyes near the color of a harvest moon, as if he had some need to interpret her feelings, uncover her very soul.

Joanna struggled to come up with more small talk, but she had trouble assembling her thoughts with his steady gaze now on her mouth. At least he hadn’t mentioned that night…

“About the other night,” he said, as if he’d read her mind.

“The other night?” she repeated, as if she had no idea what he was talking about.

“Yeah, New Year’s night. I find it hard to believe you don’t remember, because I haven’t been able to forget, querida.”

She shrugged, trying to affect nonchalance even though both her body and soul reeled in reaction to his declaration and endearment. “I thought maybe you didn’t recognize me.” She was secretly thrilled that he had.

“I didn’t at first, until you smiled.” He rubbed his thumb across her bottom lip. “You have a great smile. A great mouth.”

Joanna couldn’t ignore the tingles produced by his touch or her heart’s incessant pounding. “Do you always kiss females you don’t know?” she asked, her voice coming out too high.

He moved his palm to cup her cheek the same way he had that night. “Not normally, but you looked like you could’ve used a little company.”

She could use some strength at the moment, a lot of strength, in order to resist his lure. “I’m used to being alone. Not that I didn’t appreciate the gesture.”

He stroked his thumb back and forth along her jaw, her chin, grazing the corner of her lip with each pass. “Is that all you felt? Gratitude?”

She couldn’t begin to describe what she’d felt when he’d kissed her, what she was feeling now with him so close, his hand on her face, his eyes focused on her mouth, her will caught firmly in his grasp.

Then he lowered his head, slowly, slowly, and softly kissed her, no more than a tease, a taunt, but it left Joanna wanting as she’d never wanted before…

The shrill of a siren interrupted the moment. Joanna pulled away from him and walked to the window to survey the scene, as much to catch her breath as out of concern for the familiar activity downstairs. Three patrol cars pulled up at the curb near the front of the building and several armed officers dashed toward the entrance. Nothing she hadn’t seen before.

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder. “You’re not safe here, Joanna.”

She hugged her arms to her chest. “I don’t have a choice.”

Rio took her arm and turned her to face him. His sultry expression had been replaced by one of unease. “Yes, you do have a choice.”

“I promise I don’t. I’ve looked all over the city for another place to live and I can’t find anything I can afford.”

“Maybe you haven’t looked in the right place.”

“What do you mean?”

He dropped his hands and took a step back. “This might sound crazy, but you can live with me.”

Crazy? Of all the absurd suggestions, this one had to top the list. “I don’t think so, Dr. Madrid.”

“It’s Rio, and let me clarify what I mean. I have an older restored house in a well-established neighborhood. There’s a nice room in the third-floor attic. It’s pretty big, and comfortable, with a private bath. The lady I bought the house from kept it as her reading room. You’d be comfortable there. And safe.”

No matter how tempting the thought, she wouldn’t feel safe—at least from an emotional standpoint—living in the same house with Rio Madrid, even if the place were a mansion. He already presented a huge temptation, a threat to her sanity and a menace to her emotions.

Joanna had no intention of getting involved with another man at the moment, even if he was a successful doctor. She had more than enough worries to contend with. “I really appreciate the offer, but I barely know you.”

“You know me well enough to realize that I have your best interests at heart.”

How could he sound so certain? “Why would you want to do this for me?”

“Because I’m worried about your safety.”

She shook her head. “But I hardly have enough money to pay my rent here. My mother lives on a fixed income and I have to send money for my son. I have all these bills, thanks to my ex, and then—”

“You could pay me in other ways, nonmonetarily speaking.”

Of all the nerve. “I will not be your—”

“Let me rephrase that. Do you cook?”

The man was frustrating her beyond belief, not to mention making her seriously consider his offer. “I’ve been known to prepare a meal or two.”

“I’d like that every now and then. It beats canned pasta and frozen dinners.”

Joanna fought the urge to say yes. Fought the allure of his tempting topaz eyes and renegade’s smile. Fought her own needs and desires making themselves known for the first time in ages. She couldn’t very well see him on a daily basis and keep all of that need out of the mix.

“Again, I really do appreciate the offer,” she said. “But I can’t accept.”

Reaching into the back pocket of his jeans, he withdrew a photo and handed it to her. “If you won’t do it for yourself, then do it for him.”

Joanna stared at the picture of Joseph for a long moment, the one she thought she’d lost, shock momentarily robbing her of her voice. “Where did you find it?”

“On the ballroom floor. I saw it fall, but by the time I got to it, you were gone.”

Joanna held the snapshot close to her heart, so very thankful for its return. She had many pictures of her son, but this one was her favorite. She met Rio’s eyes and found compassion there. “I owe you a lot for this.”

“You owe your son, Joanna. He deserves to have his mother safe and secure until you two can be together again. I’m giving you that opportunity.”

He was giving her too much food for thought, too much logic. She should resent him for using Joseph to confuse her, but she also knew that what he’d said was true.

She surveyed her son’s innocent eyes, his sweet smile, and suddenly felt as though the choice had been made for her.

Joanna raised her eyes to Rio Madrid’s, finding herself victim to his charismatic pull, as if he alone held the power to bend her will. Bend her battered heart. She could not, would not, allow that to happen.

“I’ll consider your offer, but if I decide to say yes, it will be for my son.”

Never for herself.

Three

She hadn’t said yes, but she hadn’t said no either, the reason why Rio decided to broach the subject again with Joanna Blake first thing this morning, as soon as he could get away from the hospital.

The night before she had allowed him to stay only long enough for the downstairs commotion to end with several young punks being hauled off in police cars. He’d offered to sleep on her couch, only to learn the couch was her bed. That fact hadn’t made him rescind the offer, but Joanna had adamantly refused. At least her car had started, and she’d seemed to be grateful for that. He hadn’t tried to take advantage of that gratitude by kissing her again. But he’d wanted to. He still did.

More important, her welfare was at stake. Her stubborn pride could get her hurt, or worse. He didn’t intend to let that happen, if he could convince her to move in with him.

He also wasn’t stupid enough to deny that he wanted her, but he wouldn’t push. Once they spent more time together, who knew what might happen? Maybe nothing. Maybe everything.

After making his morning rounds, Rio set off for the birthing center on foot, the weather as crisp and clear as a new dollar bill. He enjoyed the walk past the small family businesses that hadn’t been taken over by hospital expansion. Enjoyed the sun on his face, the cool air filling his lungs, the prospect of seeing Joanna Blake again. On that thought, he hastened his steps until he was almost jogging for the last two of the five blocks.

Once he reached the white brick building with the high-pitched roofline, he paused to catch his breath in front of the pillar that read, Edna P. Waterston Birthing Clinic. He wondered about Edna and figured she was probably a midwife or some rich matriarch who wanted something to remember her by. If not for Joanna Blake, he’d never step foot in a place like this. Too many sorry memories to deal with.

Rio entered the glass door, surprised by the pleasant surroundings. The waiting room was warm and comfortable, nice blue-and-green-plaid couches, contemporary art, gleaming hardwood floors with various plants set out here and there. Soft music filtered through overhead speakers, while a few small children played in a toy-filled area under the watchful eyes of their mothers.

He wasn’t sure what he’d pictured, but this wasn’t it. Maybe he’d expected something more outdated, a throwback to a time and place in his past when standard medical care for pregnant women wasn’t always an option. The type of surroundings he’d witnessed as a teenager when he’d helped his mother tend to women who couldn’t afford anything but a home birth. Bad memories of unsterile conditions, one very sick mother, his own mother utilizing primitive training passed down to her from previous generations. One dark night when her limited skills had failed her and the young woman in her care.

Rio pushed away the recollections and ignored the curious stares as he strode to the reception desk framed by a large opening unencumbered by glass. A young woman sitting behind the counter sent him a sunny smile. “May I help you?”

He looked over her head and searched behind her toward the hallway to the left, attempting to see if he could spot Joanna. He wasn’t successful. “I’m looking for Ms. Blake. Is she in?”

“Yes, sir, she is. Do you have an appointment?”

He considered giving her his name but realized if Joanna knew he’d come to pay her a visit, she might not see him. “It’s personal.”

“Can I have your name, please?”

Damn.

He sent her his best grin. “It’s a surprise visit.”

One hand went to her throat, but her smile remained intact. “Well, I’m not sure Joanna would like that kind of surprise.”

Rio couldn’t argue that. “Just tell her I’m a doctor from Memorial, okay? That’s all she needs to know.”

She chewed her bottom lip. “I’m not really sure…”

He leaned into the counter and sought out her name from the badge pinned on her lapel. “I’d really appreciate it if you would, Stephanie.”

Keeping her eyes locked on Rio, the woman picked up the phone, punched a button and slowly repeated the message. After she hung up, she said, “Wait right here. She’ll be with you in a minute.” The receptionist stacked a few folders then regarded him again with another smile. “So, what kind of doctor are you?”

“OB.”

She leaned a cheek on her palm and gave him a coy look. “Really?”

“Yeah. Really.” She was flirting with him. Maybe some other time, Rio might have flirted back. But the only woman he was interested in at the moment had yet to appear.

He heard the familiar sound of Joanna Blake’s voice, soft and soothing, deadly as far as he was concerned. Knowing she was nearby had his body reacting in ways not appropriate for a grown man, especially in this setting.

The door to his left opened and a very pregnant woman walked out with Joanna following behind. He immediately recognized the patient. Allison Cartwright, his patient.

Rio didn’t know who looked more shocked, Allison or Joanna. Both stared at him a long moment, but Allison spoke first. “Hi, Dr. Madrid. Fancy meeting you here.”

He couldn’t ignore the sudden flash of anger. “Guess I could say the same thing. What are you doing here?”

She raised one shoulder in a shrug. “Now don’t get upset. I’m just visiting. Joanna was explaining the center’s birthing methods to me.”

“No problem,” he said, but it was, at least for him. Rio leveled his gaze on Joanna. “Do you have a minute, Ms. Blake?”

“I’m leaving, so she does,” Allison answered for her, then hurried out the front door in a matter of seconds.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Madrid?” Joanna’s tone was professional, with only a hint of friendliness.

He glanced back over his shoulder at Stephanie, who still continued to stare, then turned his smile on Joanna. “You don’t really want to discuss that here, do you, Ms. Blake?”

Color splashed across Joanna’s cheeks as she held open the door leading from the reception area. “Follow me, but I only have a few minutes.”

“That’s all I need,” he said. “For now.”

So much for not pushing. If he knew what was best, he’d stop with the innuendo. But for some reason, Joanna Blake unearthed his wicked side, trampled his control.

He followed her down the corridor, watching the gentle sway of her hips encased in black slacks, not jeans, but just as high impact.

“All the exam rooms are full, so this will have to do.” She stopped at a room set off in another alcove away from the main corridor, stepped to one side and allowed Rio to enter.

The place resembled something straight out of a bedand-breakfast inn, complete with a queen-size bed, rocking chair and redbrick fireplace. He found the decor to be surprisingly elegant, all flowers and lace, reminding him of his own home’s attic room, the one he’d offered to Joanna Blake, the reason why he was here. But first, he had a few other questions for her.

“What was Allison Cartwright doing here?”

“She’s considering using the center instead of the hospital.”

“Why?”

“Well, she’s still on probation at her new job, so she has no insurance, and she can’t really afford the hospital bill.”

“What about the baby’s father?”

“She told me he’s out of the picture.”

“The same thing she told me.” His thoughts about Allison began to falter when he homed in on Joanna’s mouth. Why the hell couldn’t he keep his eyes off her?

Glancing away, he said, “I’m sure the hospital would be willing to work something out financially. I’d be willing to do the same.”

Joanna frowned. “That’s for her to decide, don’t you agree?”

“We’ll see,” he said, thinking he sounded like a jerk. He wasn’t necessarily opposed to what Joanna Blake did for a living. He even understood the need in some cases. But he still couldn’t get past his concern for babies being born off hospital premises, although he had to admit the place wasn’t anything at all like what he’d expected.

He shot a glance at the open door to his right and noticed a whirlpool centered in a large bathroom.

He strolled around the room and stopped at the bed, testing its firmness with a push of his palm. “What are the rates for this honeymoon suite?”

“For your information, it’s the Rose Room, one of our birthing facilities,” she said, impatience evident in her voice, her rigid frame. “And our rates are about one-third the cost of standard hospital rooms.”

Her defensive tone made Rio all the more determined to play with her a little, in a figurative sense, at least at the moment. “Nice bed. Nice place. No stirrups?”

“No stirrups. We don’t need them. But we do have ultrasound equipment and fetal monitors, many of those other little medical marvels you find at a hospital.”

He inclined his head toward the bathroom. “What’s the whirlpool for?” As if he didn’t know.

“Water births.”

He rubbed his chin. “Oh. I thought maybe this doubled as a conception room, too.”