Snowbound Cinderella. Ruth Langan
Читать онлайн книгу.
treasured above all else. She’d watched her mother struggle with the burden of six children and a husband who found all his dreams in a bottle. They’d moved from one shabby apartment to another, often leaving in the night when her mother couldn’t scrape up enough money to pay the rent. When her father had finally left them, her mother was forced to work two jobs just to keep her family together.
Ciara clutched her hand into a fist, until she forcibly relaxed each finger. She was never going back. If it meant playing empty-headed blondes jiggling in a bikini for the rest of her life, that’s what she’d do before she’d go back to the life she’d known as a child. Whenever she thought about leaving it all behind, she would suffer a flashback to her needy childhood. That was always enough to remind her that she couldn’t have it both ways.
Still, wasn’t it possible to have what she wanted, and reclaim her life? Or would she find her world crumbling, and all her hard-won independence lost?
When she had first voiced her concerns about a lack of privacy, Brendan had been quick to soothe. It was true that he had made a career of attracting the media. And that meant for her, as Mrs. Brendan Swift, whatever privacy she craved would be further eroded. It was only natural to assume that the marriage of two movie superstars would only increase the blinding glare of the spotlight, he’d reminded her. But Brendan had also assured her that the merger of their two fortunes would “buy” them a certain amount of privacy. There was his mansion, of course, which had become such a fortress that the photographers could only snap their pictures from helicopters, unless specifically invited onto the grounds. But Brendan had a reputation for being a freewheeling spender. There were rumors that he spent as much as he earned. And lately she’d begun to wonder if his fortune was really all he led her to believe it was. There was the nagging little fear that he coveted her money, and her fame, as much as her love. When she’d suggested a prenuptial agreement, he had balked, saying that if the press learned of it, he’d look foolish. When she’d pressed, he’d gone into a rage. Hadn’t he been more than generous with all his ex-wives? Why wouldn’t he treat his current wife even better?
Brendan was so smooth, so persuasive. She felt as though she’d been swept along by the sheer force of his overpowering personality. He’d dismissed her worries and trampled all her defenses. Still, the nagging little fear persisted. Maybe because he’d been too smooth. Too persuasive. And a little too annoyed at her questions.
She’d tried to give him back the engagement ring, telling him she needed time to think. But he wouldn’t take it. He insisted that he loved her and that they’d work things out. But he refused to talk about the things that were really bothering her. He wanted to go ahead with the wedding and then work things out afterward. He didn’t understand that she just couldn’t do it that way. And so she’d run two weeks before her wedding. And was running still. But sooner or later she would have to return for the reckoning. She’d better be prepared with the answers. And right now, she didn’t know what they were, what she wanted. All she knew was that she would have to live with her decisions.
She pressed her hands to her temples and rubbed at the headache that was beginning to throb. That’s what she got for thinking. But then, that was the reason she was here. To think. To plan. And to come to some decisions, no matter how painful.
Jace was doing some heavy thinking of his own. It helped to have the generator to focus on. But while his hands were busy, his mind was in overdrive. He’d forgotten just how pleasant it was to have an entire day to himself. No agenda. No video or audio. No notes to transcribe. He closed his eyes a moment, listening to the sounds of silence. No traffic screeching. No mobs shouting. No thunder of automatic rifle fire in the distance.
It had been years since he’d been back in the U.S. And even more years since he’d had absolutely nothing more pressing than a generator that required his attention. Why had he resisted so long? If he’d known how soothing, how healing this would be, he’d have been here months ago. Or would he?
Time for a little honesty. Maybe the truth was that he’d been afraid of this very thing. Afraid that if he found life too pleasant, too undemanding, he might not want to return to the wars, the famines, the floods, the assassinations. And then where would he be? Until this past year he’d always known exactly what he wanted. To live life on the very edge of danger. To travel to distant lands. To experience the thrill of discovering something new and exciting just around the corner. Oh, there were times, especially in the past year, when he’d toyed with the idea of settling down. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep up his globe-trotting life-style forever. And the thought that all his friends had become immersed in their own lives, with families of their own, made him feel as though he might have missed something important. But the idea of marriage, of a lifetime spent with one woman, seemed laughable.
Not that there hadn’t been women in his life. But all of them, like him, enjoyed a relationship free of commitment. Like him, they’d had demanding careers that filled whatever holes there might have been in their lives. That’s just the way he liked it. He’d always needed the freedom to come and go as he pleased.
Jace hadn’t been with a woman since Ireina. And he hadn’t met a woman who got under his skin enough to make him want to take that leap into happily-ever-after. In truth, he didn’t believe such a woman existed. He believed even less in happy endings.
He glanced at the darkened windows and pushed the generator and its parts aside. He’d deal with it later. Now it was time to wash up and cook that dinner he’d promised. He was going to make Ciara Wilde eat her words.
No, he corrected. He was going to make her eat the best steak she’d ever tasted—and sigh in ecstacy over every single bite.
“Umm.” Ciara stepped from her bedroom and paused in the doorway. “Something smells heavenly.” She glanced toward the fireplace, where Jace was grilling steaks.
He looked up and absorbed a jolt to his system. She was still dressed in jeans and the flannel shirt. But she’d brushed her hair long and loose, and it fell in soft waves to her shoulders. The earlier walk in the fresh air had given her skin a healthy glow. Even without a trace of makeup she was stunning.
The cabin was snug and inviting. Jace had massed candles on the mantel. They cast a soft glow over the room. For the sake of warmth, he’d set two places side by side on the big coffee table, facing the fire. In the middle of the table was a bottle of wine and two stemmed glasses.
Her eyes widened in surprise. “Wine? How in the world did you come up with that?”
He grinned. “I found a well-stocked wine rack in the pantry. Not that I’m surprised. The Fortunes have always enjoyed only the best food and wine. I hope you like merlot.” He poured, then handed her one glass, taking the other with him as he tended the steaks.
She sipped. “I can see that you’re taking your responsibility as cook seriously.”
“Absolutely.” He expertly turned the steaks. “That way, when you make breakfast tomorrow, you’ll have to work even harder to beat me, Hollywood.”
Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.
Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».
Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.
Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.