Sassy Cinderella

Edward fixed his oldest son with a penetrating stare. “You’re awfully quiet about all this. What do you think of her? Are you comfortable with her taking care of you and the kids?”

Comfortable? Not likely, when he had an arousal like a steel bar pushing against his jeans.

He shrugged, trying to look indifferent. “I’m sure she’ll be fine, and if she’s not, I’ll send her packing.” He fervently hoped she would be a terrible nurse, and that he would find ten excuses before nightfall to fire her. Because otherwise he was going to have to work to keep his hands off her.

Chapter Two

Sherry struggled to breathe normally as Allison took her on a tour of the house. Though no women had inhabited this house for many years, it was neat and clean as a convent, calming her earlier fears. Which was good, because she had plenty of new concerns—like how she was going to remain a detached care-giver while caring for the most gorgeous man she’d ever laid eyes on.

She’d only been teasing Allison when she’d asked if Jonathan was good-looking. Normally she didn’t care what her patients looked like, only that they needed her. She’d figured that if he was related to Jeff, who was movie-star handsome, he wouldn’t be a gargoyle. But nothing had prepared her for exactly how good-looking the older brother would be—and very different from Jeff.

He was taller, for one thing. Sherry could tell even though Jonathan had been in a recliner. He was rangier, too—a bit broader in the shoulders, more sinewy, like a cowboy from those old cigarette billboards. His face still held on to its summer tan, though it was almost winter. His dark, wavy hair, a little unruly, was nothing like Jeff’s sun-burnished locks. But it was the eyes that really caught Sherry in a snare. Dark, mysterious, wary. Nothing tickled her libido faster than a man with secrets to hide.

Unfortunately, her policy was strictly hands-off when it came to her patients. What a bummer. Why couldn’t a guy like him show up in her life when she could actually take advantage?

Well, she might not be here that long, she reminded herself. The man’s superficial smile hadn’t extended to his eyes. Jonathan Hardison didn’t want her in his house.

She didn’t always make a great first impression. That was something she’d learned early, though she’d never understood why it was true. She always tried to be her most pleasant when she met new people.

At least most people liked her when they got to know her. Jonathan’s resistance made her just that much more determined to win him over—if he didn’t fire her first.

As for the kids, they were so precious they made her heart ache. All children made her feel that way, bringing back memories she’d just as soon keep buried. She liked to think she would be good with children, but in reality she hadn’t spent enough time around any to know. She imagined she could keep them safe, clean and fed, which was the minimum this job required. But she wasn’t sure if they would like her. For all she knew, they might believe she was trying to replace their mother.

“We laid in some groceries earlier today,” Allison was explaining as they entered the kitchen. “I have no idea what you like to cook, so I bought some staples and also frozen convenience stuff, just in case. The ranch has an account at the grocery store, so you can just charge whatever you want.”

Sherry inspected the cupboards and refrigerator contents in the large, homey kitchen. There seemed to be plenty of everything she would need for several days. “Will I need to get some sort of authorization?”

Allison looked at her blankly. “For what?”

“To charge the groceries.”

Allison laughed. “That’s not necessary. I just called Clem down at Grubbs’ Food Mart and let him know it’s okay for you to sign on the Hardison account.”

Wow. That was small-town life, Sherry guessed. Everyone knew everyone and trusted everyone, apparently. Sherry wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She was accustomed to the anonymity of the big city. She met new people every day and none of them could judge her on her past, only on what she let them see.

Sometimes that was enough, she conceded with a grin.

“Why are you smiling?” the little girl asked.

Sherry’s grin grew. “Because I’m happy to be here, I guess. Sometimes I just smile for the heck of it. You know, doctors have done tests on people that prove smiling makes you happy, even if you aren’t happy to start with.”

“That sounds like hogwash,” the boy said as he peered hopefully into an empty cookie jar.

Sam, Sherry reminded herself. Sam and Kristin. She prided herself on remembering names because she’d learned that her patients felt more relaxed when she related to them as people, one on one.

“Sam!” Allison scolded. “That wasn’t very nice.”

“He just says that word because Grandpa Pete says it and he thinks it’s funny,” Kristin said. Then she turned shy blue eyes on Sherry. “You have pretty teeth.”

“Best teeth money can buy,” Sherry quipped.

Allison started to say something, then stopped.

“What?” Sherry prompted.

“I was just wondering what happened to your real teeth, because I’m a dentist and therefore unnaturally interested in people’s mouths. But it’s a rude question.”

“No, it’s not,” Sherry said. “I chipped two of them by falling off a bicycle when I was a kid.” That was the story she’d been using for a long time. It was a lot nicer than the truth.

“Well, someone did an excellent job on your caps,” Allison said as they headed back through the dining room and into the living room. “Only a dentist like me would notice you have caps.”

“Thanks.” Getting her teeth fixed was one of the first things Sherry had attended to after she got out of nursing school.

Jeff was just coming through the front door with Sherry’s luggage. It hadn’t seemed like so much when she’d stuffed it all into the trunk and back seat of the Firebird, but now it looked like a tapestry-printed mountain growing in the middle of the room.

Jonathan frowned at the vast pile of luggage. Then he turned to Sherry. “You are here just for a few days, right?”

“I know it looks like a lot,” Sherry said apologetically. “I never have been good at packing. Don’t worry, the bags will be out of your way in a jiffy.” She grabbed up as many of the smaller bags as she could carry and lugged them toward her room. Jeff and Allison got the rest.

“This room is really nice,” Sherry said, running a finger along the top of the oak dresser. The comforter on the queen-size bed looked fluffy and warm, and there were at least four pillows, all with matching pillow slips.

“Anne made it over,” Allison said. “She has really good taste. In fact, Anne is the one who made me over.”

Allison had told Sherry the whole story when they first became friends. She’d wanted to catch Jeff’s eye, so she’d done a radical makeover on herself, only to have Jeff fail to notice. He’d finally come to his senses and realized he loved Allison, but apparently his feelings had little to do with her appearance.

“Want me to help you unpack?” Allison asked.

“I’ll do that later. Right now, I’d like to sit down with Jeff and learn more about Jonathan’s medical condition to find out exactly what sort of care you want me to provide.” She slipped a notebook and pen from the outer pocket of one of her bags.

“He has a concussion,” Jeff said. “He landed on his head.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t leave a dent in the ground,” Allison said, “instead of the other way round.”

“Of the two, his head’s probably harder,” Jeff agreed. “Anyway, Sherry, Jonathan also has an angulated, displaced fracture of the tibia, but it was simple. There were no bone fragments, so the orthopedist didn’t feel surgery was necessary, just reduction and a cast. But there was a lot of swelling and bruising, so he needs to keep the leg elevated—and keep off it, of course. Otherwise, just watch for signs of infection. He has some minor abrasions where the horse kicked him.”

Sherry gasped. “A horse kicked him?”

“After bucking him off,” Allison added. “These men and their horses…Well, anyway, other than keeping an eye on Jonathan, you’ll just need to cook and clean and help out with the kids. I know it’s not a job that requires your level of skill—”

“Oh, I don’t mind,” Sherry said quickly, then realized how overeager she sounded. But the idea of playing house with Jonathan Hardison and his family was far more appealing than it should have been. “Is Jonathan on any medication?”

“Antibiotics and Vicadin for pain, but he’s not taking the pain pill. He said he didn’t like how it made him groggy.” Jeff pulled two prescription bottles out of his shirt pocket and handed them to Sherry. “Make him take the Vicadin if the pain keeps him awake at night. He needs to sleep if he wants to heal.”

“Gotcha.” She scribbled in her notebook as they all three returned to the living room.

“Kristin has food allergies,” Allison added. “The list of everything she’s allergic to is on the fridge.”

More scribbles in the notebook.

“Sam hates baths and will go to any lengths to avoid them,” Allison said with a chuckle. “Don’t let him con you.”

Sherry started to worry. What other idiosyncrasies did this family have, and what would they forget to tell her? She’d never done private-practice nursing before. She’d always worked in a hospital or doctor’s office, where there were plenty of people around if she had any questions or problems.

“Why doesn’t everybody stay for dinner?” Sherry asked. “I can make a Frito-chili pie that’s out of this world.”

JONATHAN COULDN’T BELIEVE his ears. The woman had been in his house for, what, fifteen minutes? And already she acted like she owned the place, inviting people to dinner. He wanted everyone to go home. He was in no shape to entertain guests.

At least he wouldn’t have to go to the table. He planned to take his meals right here on a TV tray.

But the aggravating woman messed up those plans, too. Realizing Jonathan would have to eat his dinner alone if everyone else sat in the dining room, she announced she would serve dinner in the living room. “The kids can sit on the floor in front of the coffee table and everyone else can eat on TV trays. You have TV trays, right?” She looked at Jonathan.

He was forced to smile and tell her where the trays were kept.

Frito-chili pie. Jonathan knew it was a Texas tradition, but he wasn’t fond of Mexican food of any kind. He liked his meat and potatoes. But the smell coming from the kitchen as Sherry cooked wasn’t too bad.

Allison got out the trays, and Kristin helped her set places for everyone. Anne put some lively zydeco music on the CD player, while Sally turned on every light and lamp in the house. Pretty soon it was like a party.

A party was the last thing Jonathan needed. Couldn’t his family see that? And Sherry—didn’t she know injured people needed peace and quiet? What kind of nurse was she?

In less than an hour she had dinner ready. He had to give her credit for efficiency. The steaming square of casserole on his plate didn’t cheer him, though. He would have preferred a nice pork chop.

“Do you normally have a blessing?” Sherry asked as everyone got settled in with their plates and drinks.

“Usually only when my father’s here,” Allison said. “I think I told you before, he’s a minister. I suppose we should bless the meal. Would you like to do it, Sherry?”

“Oh, um, sure.” She bowed her head. Jonathan would have done the same, but he was too entranced watching how Sherry’s curls fell over one shoulder and breast, the very end teasing her cleavage. “Thank you, Lord, for this food,” she said, “and for giving me a temporary job so the credit card companies don’t come get me, and for Jonathan being on the road to a full recovery.”

“Amen.”

“Let’s eat!” Sam said, picking up his fork and digging in. Everyone else followed suit.

From his first bite, Jonathan thought his mouth had caught fire. He somehow managed to swallow, chasing the bite down with a gulp of milk, but he coughed afterward. Looking around, he noticed he wasn’t the only one experiencing difficulty with the meal. Jeff’s eyes were watering, Edward had covered his mouth with his hand and his eyes were bulging, and Anne was gasping for breath.

Kristin was less polite. She spit out her first bite. “This is too hot!” she announced.

“No kidding,” Sam said, staring at his food as if it were a poisonous snake.

Sherry looked at the children with concern. “Is it? I put peppers in the pie—I found them in the fridge, so I figured you wouldn’t mind.”

Pete chuckled. “Those’re my peppers. I put ’em on everything, but these other tenderfoots don’t like ’em.” Pete took a second bite of the casserole, obviously not bothered by the piquant flavor.

“Daddy, can I have a peanut butter sandwich?” Kristin asked.

One by one everyone except Pete and Sherry found an alternate dinner. They tried to tell Sherry it wasn’t her fault, but she was obviously embarrassed.

“What about you, Jonathan?” she asked. “Can I fix you something else?”

“I’m really not hungry,” he announced. “I think I’ll just go to bed.”

Sherry dropped the sponge she was using to clean spills off the coffee table. “I’ll help you.”

He held up a hand to halt her approach. “I can manage, thanks.” But, to his humiliation, he couldn’t. He was stuck in the recliner.

Ignoring his objections, Sherry went to work levering him out of the chair, helping him balance on his good leg while he situated the crutches.

“I’ve got it now, thanks.”

But the infernal woman hovered over him as he limped toward his room. “It’s always hardest the first day on crutches,” she said. “You’ll get the hang of using them soon. Of course, you shouldn’t walk much at all these first few days.”

“I don’t plan to—what in the name of all that’s holy is that thing?” Jonathan stopped at the doorway to his bedroom, staring at this monstrous flowered balloon-looking thing on his bed.

“It’s an inflatable bed-chair,” Sherry said cheerfully, sliding into the room ahead of him. “It’s great for bolstering yourself up while confined to a bed. Because you don’t want to lie flat all the—”

“I’m not confined to a bed,” he grated out. “I am not an invalid.”

She plucked the offending object off the bed and shoved it aside. “I like to use it when I sit up reading at night,” she said, still cheerful despite his rebuff. “Now then, where do you keep your pajamas?”

She started opening and closing the dresser drawers as if she had the perfect right.

“I don’t wear pajamas.”

“Oh. All right, then.” She pulled the covers back on his double bed. “Sit down, and I’ll help you—”

“Damn it, woman,” he roared, “can’t you see I don’t want any help?”

She stared at him a moment, then looked down at the floor. “Yes,” she said softly, “that’s been obvious since I got here. It’s also obvious to me that whether you want it or not you need some assistance.”

“In case I haven’t made myself clear yet, let me try again. You are to confine yourself to cooking, cleaning and caring for my children. I can take care of myself.”

She picked up the bed-chair and pulled its plug. It made an awful noise as she squeezed the air out of it. “If that’s what you wish.” She didn’t seem perturbed at all. “I’m only here to make things easier. If you need anything, call.”

Jonathan could still smell her perfume after she left. Damn. He hadn’t meant to be so rude. He knew she was only trying to do the job she’d been hired for. But the sight of her in his bedroom had made him snap. Having a woman like her anywhere near his bed was asking for trouble.

Besides, if she’d helped him undress, she’d have discovered exactly the effect she had on him. It would be highly embarrassing for Sherry to know she could turn him on just by walking across the room.

He allowed himself a brief fantasy—Sherry undressing him, cool, detached, her elegant hands touching him with a nurse’s practical manner, those long nails lightly raking his skin. He let out an involuntary groan and hoped everyone in the house hadn’t heard.

“I’M SORRY JONATHAN’S being such a bear,” Allison said as she helped Sherry in the kitchen. “He’s normally very nice, just reserved. But he’s not used to being so helpless.”

“Can you blame him, after I just about poisoned the whole family?”

“It was an honest mistake.”

“Well, I’ll remember from now on. No spicy food for the Hardisons.” Sherry smiled, trying to get over the humiliation of ruining her very first meal here. “Listen, I know how some men are when they’re injured. They feel weak, powerless, and they compensate by bullying everybody that crosses their paths. I’m used to it. It doesn’t bother me.” Although it did, a little. It was always important to her to do a good job, but she also wanted her patients to like her. Jonathan, she suspected, couldn’t stand the sight of her.

Well, she’d always enjoyed a challenge.

“Maybe when the rest of us go, he’ll simmer down some,” Allison said.

“You’re leaving now?” Sherry knew his whole family wouldn’t be spending the night, but she was a little nervous about assuming full responsibility, especially for the children.

“Pete will be here one more night, but he and Sally are getting married tomorrow morning and taking off on their cruise.”

“Does Jonathan expect to attend the wedding?” Sherry asked, concerned.

“He’d like to, but Jeff said no way.”

“What about the children?”

“Yes. Pete will take them to the church, but if you could get them ready, that would be a big help.”

“Okay.” Sherry thought for a moment. “Where’s the reception?”

“We’re just having punch and cake at the church hall. It’ll be a very small wedding. Why?”

“I don’t mean to interfere, but I was just thinking, what if they moved the reception here? Then we could include Jonathan in the celebration.”

Allison’s eyes lit up. “That’s a terrific idea! Let’s run it past Pete and Sally and see what they think.”

The older couple was enthusiastic about the suggestion. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it myself,” Sally said. “We haven’t invited that many guests, so space isn’t an issue, and I’ve always thought that church hall was ugly, anyway. I’ll just call Gussie and Reenie and tell them to bring the refreshments and decorations here. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

“Who, me?” Sherry laughed. “I love a party, any kind of party.” She couldn’t wait to tell Jonathan the good news—if he didn’t throw something at her first.

JONATHAN WAS rudely awakened the next morning by a blast of sunlight. He opened his bleary eyes to find Sherry in his room, whisking curtains open.

“Good morning.” Whisk! Another curtain open. But the bright sun could hardly compete with the woman herself. Wearing black leggings and a hot-pink, clingy shirt, her outrageous mountain of blond curls piled carelessly atop her head, she was an erotic fantasy come to life.

“Would you like breakfast in bed?” she asked cheerfully. “Or would you like to bathe and dress first and sit in your chair?”

He was aghast at her audacity. “You…you can’t just barge in here without knocking!” he sputtered. “This isn’t a hospital, it’s my home, and my room.”

He expected her to murmur an apology and slink away. But she didn’t. He was quickly learning to expect the unexpected where his nursemaid was concerned.

“I did knock. You didn’t answer. I had to check on you. Once I saw you were breathing—”

“You should have just left me in peace!”

“But it’s late and you need to get up.”

“Why, in God’s name? Do I have an appointment with the President?”

She smiled, as if she had a secret. “You have a wedding reception to attend.”

“Are you crazy? I can’t go to Pete’s wedding.”

“You don’t have to. The wedding’s coming to you. Or at least, part of it. Pete and Sally have relocated the reception here, so you don’t have to miss out on everything.”

Jonathan couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “All those people are coming here?” Great, just what he needed, for the whole town to witness his infirmity. “Forget it. It’s not happening.”

“You’re not pleased?”

“I’m in no shape to entertain!”

“You won’t have to lift a finger, I promise.”

He sighed. The woman hadn’t been here twenty-four hours and already she was driving him mad. He’d told Pete he regretted missing the wedding, but in reality, weddings weren’t his cup of tea. They only served to remind him that his own marriage had been a dismal failure. All that lovey-dovey, till-death-do-us-part stuff made his divorced status that much more noticeable.

“Fine,” he said through clenched teeth, since she seemed to be waiting for a decision from him. “I’ll get dressed first, then have breakfast.”

She beamed. “Great. I’ll get your bathwater. Do you have a plastic tub somewhere I can use?”

“A plastic—” Suddenly he realized her intentions. “Oh, no, you don’t. You and your sponge just keep away from me. I can manage on my own, thank you very much.”

“Jonathan. You’re in a full-leg cast. You can’t take a regular bath or shower. Now, you don’t have to be embarrassed. I’ve given hundreds of sponge baths—”

“No. If you’re dying to bathe someone, bathe the kids. That ought to be enough challenge for you.”

“They’ve already had their baths.”

“Really?” He was impressed. Kristin didn’t fight it too hard, if she had plenty of bubbles. But it took an act of Congress to get Sam in the tub.

“Well, Pete helped,” she admitted.

He softened a bit toward Sherry. “Why don’t you run along and see about breakfast? I’ll be there shortly.”

She shrugged. “All right. But before I go, I need to check you over.”

Her words had a profound effect on him—unintended, he was sure. “What’s to check?” he said gruffly. “The leg’s in a cast.”

But he saw by her implacable expression that she wouldn’t take no for an answer. This was one fight he wasn’t going to win. Jeff and Ed had both warned him about the complications that could arise from his injuries, especially his concussion. With a sigh, he allowed her to shine a flashlight in his face to see if his pupils would contract appropriately. She pointed a finger into the air and made him follow it with his eyes.

When she tried to pull the blankets off his cast he resisted—he was otherwise naked. But he finally relented and she was careful to keep the rest of his body modestly covered.

He lay back, closed his eyes and tried not to think about her touching him. She was gentler than any of the nurses at the hospital had been. She checked his toes for swelling and signs of poor circulation. Then she took his temperature to be sure he wasn’t running a fever. He actually found himself enjoying Sherry’s ministrations.

“All done.”

He opened his eyes. She had that brilliant smile on her face again.

“You enjoy your work?” he asked.

“Oh, yes. Yes, I really do. And if there’s anything I can do better, please tell me.”

“There’s just one thing.”

“What?” She blinked her big green eyes at him, eyes that were enhanced with soft brown shadow, dark eyeliner and lashes that were so long and curly they should have been outlawed.

“Do you have to be so relentlessly cheerful?”

The smile drooped. “I’ll try to adopt a more depressing attitude.” And she left.

Jonathan immediately felt guilty, and well he should. What was it about this woman that brought out the absolute worst in him?

Chapter Three

Sherry knocked on Pete’s bedroom door. “Pete? Is there anything I can do to help?”

Jonathan’s grandfather opened the door, his hair sticking out wildly, his eyes reflecting blind panic. “I don’t have any shoes! I bought a new suit for the weddin’, but I forgot about dress shoes!”

“You must have something that would work.”