The Cinderella Rules

by Donna Kauffman

  Shane snorted. “Yeah, it’s sure as hell looking that way. Did he say anything else?”

  Darby held his gaze again. “Just that he liked to take risks.”

  “Fuck. He came back in the study after the first call and made another one. I didn’t get the chance to hear any of that one.” He sighed. “There is more to this. A whole lot more. Dammit.”

  “So what do we do next, Sherlock?”

  “My vote is that we wait for the We Dig It report tomorrow, see what else pops up. Right now, all we have is a great deal of speculation. Your father isn’t due in till Sunday. I doubt Stefan is going anywhere until then.”

  Sounded like a good plan to her. She was heartily sick of this whole mess. She stroked a finger along his lower lip, deliberately drawing his attention down the path she wanted it to go. Right toward her. “And in the meantime?”

  One thing about Shane, he wasn’t slow on the uptake. He slid her around so she straddled his thighs, and a wickedly sexy grin curved his lips. “I say we do some further exploration of that other investigation we started today.”

  “Other . . . investigation?” she said, already weaving her fingers into his hair.

  The phone buzzed on the desk.

  He still nuzzled her neck, but she was already pushing at him. “Shouldn’t you get that?”

  “Nope.” But when the buzzing started up again, Darby started to shift off his lap. Instead of letting her go, he merely wrapped her legs around his waist and said, “Hold on.”

  “Shane!” she squealed when he stood and carried her to the desk. He turned to lean back against it, keeping her wrapped around him, heedless of the papers and files that they were shoving to the floor as he reached out and punched the button for speakerphone. “Yes?”

  “Hi, darling, hope I’m not interrupting things. You sound rather . . . intense.”

  Darby just wiggled her eyebrows and Shane delivered her a mock shushing warning. “You know I always love to hear from you, sweetheart. What’s up?”

  “Well, I did my level best, but my quarry has tired of my charms and gone to his room for the evening. I just thought you’d like to know.”

  “Are you certain he went to his room?”

  Vivian’s laugh was low and throaty. “My darling boy, she’s with you now, so it hardly matters whose room he ends up in, does it?”

  Darby lifted a questioning brow, but he simply tugged her hips so she snugged up tight against him, forcing her to stifle a little moan when she realized just how “with her” he was ready to be.

  “True,” he said, his own voice a bit tight. “Listen, I owe you a huge debt.”

  “My pleasure, I assure you. And you two can sleep in tomorrow morning. I overheard him put in a call for a car at seven a.m. Business meeting or some such. Ungodly hour, if you ask me. See you on the morrow, sweetheart. Sweet dreams, Darby,” she added, before clicking off.

  Darby didn’t know whether to laugh or be mortified. “So what’s all this about you owing her?”

  Shane ran his hands up her back. “After the call, I tried to come find you right away, but I got waylaid by the godmother triumvirate and Stefan was already back by your side. I wanted to keep tabs on him.”

  “Just him?”

  Shane smiled. “You can hold your own.”

  “I’d say thank you, but I’m not feeling all that cocky about my performance today.”

  He stood suddenly and spun around, pressing her all the way back onto the desk. “It’s not today’s performance I’m thinking about at the moment.”

  “Oh?” she said, barely able to keep her hips still beneath his. “Am I auditioning or something?”

  “Hardly.” He leaned in, took her bottom lip first, then the rest of her mouth. “You had me before I ever got in that limo.”

  She grinned even as her heart soared a little. She tried not to think about that. Too much. Her back arched up as he pressed more tightly between her thighs. “We’ve got way too many clothes on.”

  He nuzzled her neck. “Great minds.”

  “What about—” Her train of thought fled as he began working his mouth down the front of her shirt. But there was something else she was supposed to mention. Right. Stefan’s morning appointment. “What are we going to do about . . . ah . . . oh. That feels . . . Jesus.” Screw the morning appointment. She had more important, more immediate concerns. Most of them dealing with helping Shane get her clothes off as soon as possible. Of course, he was already one step ahead of her. Her shirt was already open and her pants were close behind. “Are we going to do this here?”

  His grin was downright wicked. “I’m recapturing the spirit of that proud, courageous Morgan who isn’t afraid to go after what he wants.” He slid down and tugged her zipper open. With his teeth. “And what he wants at the moment, is you.”

  Cinderella Rule #18

  The most lovely surprises happen when we least expect them. But do your best to be prepared anyway. Lipstick, mascara, and a compact should be carried at all times. And . . . don’t forget protection, darlings. Boy Scouts don’t always come prepared.

  —VIVIAN

  Chapter 18

  He had industrial espionage swirling about his head, not to mention a hundred or so people presently dining and gambling somewhere in his house . . . and the only thing he gave a damn about was the taste of Darby Landon’s mouth.

  Her blouse and trousers alternately flew and dropped. He laughed when she dangled two condoms she’d tucked in her trouser pockets. His shirt and shorts followed in quick succession. And she laughed when he dangled the two he’d tucked in his. “Great minds, indeed,” he said, and then she grabbed him and a second later his mind went blank. All he could do was feel. And taste. And touch.

  “Door. Lock,” she managed, which was more speech than he was capable of at the moment.

  He took care of the problem in his own way. He pulled her to her feet, then backed her all the way up against the door, flipped the lock, and pulled her legs back up around his hips. And all the while he never left the luxury of her perfect lips. Her fingers dug into his scalp as he shifted her higher.

  “This is total insanity,” she moaned, then gasped as he pushed her up higher still, and slid his mouth lower. “Insanity is good.”

  Perfect lips. Perfect nipples. It was an embarrassment of riches. All that and a sharp mind, too. He might as well admit it, he was hopelessly lost in her. Any idea he’d had about keeping some semblance of perspective about this was more seriously compromised every time he touched her. Talked to, saw, or stood anywhere near her, too. And when he wasn’t doing any of those things, he was thinking about when he could do them again.

  She yanked his head back by the hair and took his mouth while sliding down the wall . . . and directly onto him. Oh, yeah. This could definitely be love. Or close enough to it that he wasn’t going to quibble. Now he just had to figure out what in the hell he was going to do about it.

  Except right now, all the blood in his body had pooled south, leaving no brain cells left for critical thinking. Fortunately, there weren’t enough left to make him care too much, either. Worry later. Pleasure now.

  It had always worked for him before.

  She locked her legs and rocked onto him, and he was pretty sure if she drove him any deeper, the top of his head was going to blow off. Hell, he didn’t much need it anyway.

  She sucked on his bottom lip, bit it almost hard enough to draw blood. He took her tight up against the wall, body pinning body as he drove faster, faster, her voice demanding it all the way.

  He wasn’t sure who growled through a climax first. They were so close that hearing her go there drove him over the edge. A first for him. Please, dear God, he hoped it wasn’t the last.

  His skin was so slick with sweat, and he was panting so hard, he couldn’t even groan. Her legs slipped down his hips and he wrapped her up in his arms to keep them both from sliding to the floor. Their gazes clashed and he wasn’t sure what it was she saw, but
he guessed it was close to the same dazed look he’d found plastered all over her face. They both grinned, then began to laugh, in that giddy way people do when they hear they’ve won some ridiculous amount of money. Only this was better than money. And they both had the background to make a decent comparison.

  Still laughing, Shane stumbled backward, landing them both in a tumbled heap on the rug. He was pretty sure he had brush burns on his ass. Small price to pay.

  Darby rolled off of him and onto her back, splayed unselfconsciously as she stared up at the ceiling. Her laughter had faded, but the big grin was still plastered all over her face. “I’m sensing a pattern here,” she said with mock seriousness.

  Shane rolled to one side and dropped a kiss on a still-erect nipple, making her jump and gasp. “Pattern?”

  She rolled her head to look at him. “Floors. We seem to end up on them a lot. And walls. Another pattern.”

  “Hm,” he said, matching her tone. “Nudity within a short time of being alone together. An insatiable desire to taste you, touch you, kiss you. I begin to see your point.” He grinned. “I’ve never been a fan of routine behavior, but I’m rethinking my whole philosophy on that.”

  “And here I was, thinking my whole life is about routine behavior. Get up, let horses out, clean stalls, feed horses, water horses. Training sessions. Groom horses. Feed, water, put in. Nuke dinner. Watch mindless television while doing books. Sleep. Start over.” She smiled at him. “You can see why you’re a bit of a shock to the system.”

  It should have sounded deadly dull. The very sort of stable, settled existence he’d run to the ends of the earth to avoid. So why did visions of pulling Darby back against him while they munched popcorn and watched an old John Wayne movie, before taking her off to bed . . . or having her right there on the couch . . . sound so good? Survival skills were apparently obliterated in a man who’d just experienced an orgasm of Armageddon-caliber strength. He found he wasn’t anxious to recover.

  “And yet,” he said, striving to keep things light, because suddenly it all felt a bit too momentous and not a little terrifying, “you’ve managed to impose a certain pattern to it anyway. Now, me on the other hand—”

  “Yeah, yeah, wild, swinging hammock sex. I know,” she said with an airy wave of her hand. “I’m sure this was nothing to write home about. Which would be silly on my end since there’s no one to write to, and of course, because we are in your home.”

  Shane realized she was babbling to cover up the huge, gaping opening she’d just created. He was very tempted to jump right into it, but his survival cells managed to kick into gear just fast enough to save him. “The Morgan family home,” he corrected.

  “Well, might I humbly suggest that I imagine it’s never been put to quite as wonderful use as it was just now.”

  Shane grimaced.

  “Oh, thanks,” she said with a laugh. “My ego is dust now.”

  “No, that look was because of the visual that accompanied your statement. And might I beg you never to do anything like that ever again.”

  Darby snickered. “Yeah, well, for all you know a half-dozen of your ancestors were conceived right here.”

  He covered his eyes and shuddered. “Bad images, bad images.”

  She was still laughing as he rolled her body toward him, trapping her there with his leg over hers, then tipping her face up to his. “I know you weren’t asking before. And you might not even want to hear it, but—”

  “Shane, don’t. I—”

  He pressed his thumb against her mouth, then drew it softly over the contours of her lips. “You are like no one I’ve ever met. And the time I’ve spent with you defies description. Put plainly, you knock my socks off.” He grinned when her gaze faltered, and wiggled his toes against her leg to ease the sudden tension of the moment. “Proof, see?”

  She rolled her eyes. “You never wear socks.”

  “Technicality,” he said, pulling her back when she went to roll away. “Okay, okay, enough mushy talk.” He winced when his abraded backside brushed the floor. “Enough bristly carpet, too. Could I entice you back to my rooms and my big, soft bed?”

  “Don’t you have other guests you’re supposed to be hosting?”

  “I am hosting the guests. The only one I care about, anyway.” He tugged her close before she could reach for her clothes. “Did you eat?”

  She nodded. “I had the roast beef and etiquette lecture over rice.”

  “Yum.”

  “That’s what I thought. But I’m fine, really.” Her stomach rumbled then, as if to put the lie to her statement.

  Shane laughed when she plastered her hands on the offending body part, looking momentarily horrified. It was a defining moment. Darby, blushing over a growling stomach, but completely unconcerned with her nudity. “Maybe we just work up an appetite when we’re together.”

  She continued to gather her clothes. “What I think is that I won’t have any clothes left to wear if I spend any more time with you,” she said, examining her wrinkled blouse and trousers.

  “And this is a problem?”

  She shot him a dry look. “We’re not all as Bohemian as you are.”

  “I’ll have you know that almost all the jobs I’ve ever had required me to be fully clothed.”

  Darby held her clothes in her arms. “Almost?”

  “Well, there was that modeling job for that art class in Thailand.” He grinned. “They’d never had a Caucasian model with blue eyes.” He shrugged. “Not sure why that mattered, since they were working with charcoal.”

  Darby snapped her blouse out and caught him on the arm. “You’re awful.”

  He snatched the sleeve and yanked her close. “That’s what the art instructor told me.”

  “Yeah, right before she hit you up for some private remedial lessons.”

  “Oh, you know her, then?”

  Darby tried to pry herself loose. “I begin to see how you make your way around the world without a nickel to your name.”

  “I’ll have you know that there have been times when I’ve had plenty of nickels. It’s just that money isn’t what motivates me.”

  She stopped struggling. “So what does motivate you? I mean, how do you decide where to go next? What job to take?”

  “Come,” he said, pulling her across the room. “I’ll tell you all my adventures in the shower.”

  “Your private office comes equipped with a shower?”

  He moved to a panel in the wall that, when pressed, swung outward. “No, but Alexandra’s adjoining rooms do.”

  “We’re going to shower naked in your grandmother’s suite?”

  “Well, a) I think it’s better to shower naked, but I’m open to new experiences. And b) I’m guessing she won’t mind.”

  “Ha, ha. Very funny, hammock boy.”

  “You know, you’re really hung up on that. Very bad pun there, sorry.” He maneuvered them through the shadowed room and flipped on the lights in the elegantly appointed bath.

  “Wow,” she said, taking in the fabric-covered walls and gilt bath fixtures. “And I’m not hung up on it, I just—”

  “You want me in a hammock, admit it.” He reached into the smoked-glass-enclosed shower and flipped on the shower heads.

  Darby smiled. “Oh, I want you all right.” Then she shoved him under the still-cold spray.

  He yelped, then pulled her right in with him. By the time she got done spluttering, the water was steamy and he had her pinned in the corner. “Where were we?”

  “I’m pretty sure I don’t care, as long as it involves hot water and your hands on me.”

  “Now who’s incorrigible?” he said. “I like that about you, by the way.” He reached for the bottle of liquid soap and pooled some in his palm. “Okay, deal time.”

  “Oh, you’ll get your back washed.”

  “I was thinking more along the lines of show and tell.”

  “I’m not sure there’s much more I could show you,” she deadpanned.
/>   “Yes, and that’s to be commended. I meant tale-telling. I’ll share one of mine, you share one of yours.”

  “Oh, yeah, that’ll be fun. You tell me all about traversing some high Nepalese alp or something, and I’ll tell you about the time Rookie threw me over the paddock fence and into the water trough. I’m thinking only one of us will be entertained.”

  Shane grinned. “Sounds like a fair trade to me. Only I’ve never been to Nepal.”

  “Well, then,” she sniffed. “I guess the Rookie story stays with me.”

  He began to slide his soapy palms up and down her arms, then along her spine.

  “Okay, drag it out of me, why don’t you.”

  Shane found he wanted to drag lots of things out of her. Every detail of her life, in fact. Good, bad, and ugly. He turned her so her back was to him, then pulled her against him, rubbing their slick soapy bodies together before slipping his hands around her waist, and soaping her front. “I’m always entertained when I’m with you,” he murmured, realizing the depth of truth in that statement.

  “I’m thinking that’s because I’m usually naked and—” She gasped as he slipped a hand between her legs. “Very . . . oh, my God, you really can’t think I’m going to—oh. Oh. Oh!”

  He pressed his lips to her neck, trailed a water drop off the rim of her ear with his tongue, all the while never leaving the slickness between her legs. “Jesus, Darby,” he said, swearing under his breath as she shuddered through a small climax, then another one.

  “I can’t help it,” she managed, then gasped again. “You—it’s your fault.”

  He chuckled at her aggrieved tone. “Don’t expect me to apologize.” Or stop anytime soon. God, how was he going to let her go? “Come here.” He turned her around and pulled her into his arms. Water splashed off her shoulders and ricocheted against the walls as he slid his tongue into her mouth and took her. He wanted to possess her. In the way that would keep her from leaving him when their reasons for being here were done. For a man who’d done his best to not possess much, it was not a small revelation. And now was not the time to wonder about it. He didn’t have to let her go yet. That was all that mattered.