The Cinderella Factor. Sophie Weston
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was just passing through…
The black brows flew up. ‘On the road? What does a student study on the road?’
Jo could have kicked herself. Yet another unwary detail let slip because she wasn’t thinking clearly. This man was dangerous—or at least the effect he seemed to be having on her was dangerous. At this rate, she would talk herself right out of her magical new job.
She shook her damp hair, spraying droplets on his powerful naked chest. She saw his muscles contract as the water made contact and her heart gave a funny little lurch. Concentrate, she told herself. Concentrate!
‘Life,’ she said flippantly.
He frowned.
‘I’ve heard about the university of life. But I’ve never heard of anyone selecting it,’ he said dryly. ‘What happened? Drop out of college?’
Jo gave a little laugh that broke. Her ruined education was one of the things that hurt most.
‘Never got that far,’ she said briefly.
The frown did not lift. ‘Why not?’
She shrugged. ‘Oh, this and that.’
‘The open road looked more attractive?’
She thought about the night she had finally run away. Since then she had occasionally slept in railway stations and not had enough to eat, and there had been one or two hairy moments. But no one had set out to beat her senseless because he was in a bad temper and drunk. No one was going to, ever again.
‘The open road looked more attractive,’ she agreed quietly.
‘On your own?’
She hesitated.
‘Not any more?’ he interpreted.
Jo shrugged.
He was persistent. ‘Boyfriend pushed off?’
Jo said carefully, ‘Mark is staying with some people he knows.’
‘So it was you who decided to keep on moving?’
She gave a little laugh. ‘Not much choice. They only had room for one, and Mark had first claim.’
His mouth twisted. ‘So he’s found himself a billet. Where does that leave you? Have you found somewhere to stay?’
Jo was unnerved by his curiosity. It stampeded her into an uncharacteristic lie.
‘Not round here,’ she said quickly.
‘In one of the towns, then? How did you find your way to the river here? Just out for a day’s picnic in the country?’
‘Yes.’
She sounded curt and he looked surprised.
But she had told enough lies here. She did not want to contaminate this beautiful place, this moment, any more. For some odd reason she did not want to lie to this man, either. She began to edge away.
‘Can I drive you somewhere? To join your friends, perhaps?’ he said. ‘I left my car on the road.’
‘No,’ she said, horrified.
But a bit of her mind noted that he seemed to be passing through, that he was not one of the locals who could inadvertently expose her deception. It was a relief.
His eyebrows flew up. She had sounded almost rude, Jo thought in despair.
‘I mean, no, thank you,’ she corrected herself.
‘Hey,’ he said, half gentle, half affronted, ‘you don’t have to be afraid of me. If I were that sort of villain I’d have already jumped on you.’
Jo winced. ‘Sorry.’
Her voice was constrained, almost sulky. She hated it. She didn’t want this man to think she was sulky. But it was better that he knew nothing more about her.
She went on hardily, ‘I know where I’m going, and I’m not in any hurry.’
He looked at her searchingly. ‘You’ll be all right on your own?’
Her chin lifted. ‘I always am.’
He gave a wry smile. ‘I guess you are. Well, no more skinny-dipping, hmm? Not when you’re on your own, anyway.’
‘You mean, no more impulses,’ Jo corrected him with a touch of bitterness.
His eyes narrowed. ‘That would be a pity.’
Her head came up, suspicious.
He added, with quite unnecessary emphasis, almost as if he were reminding himself of something, ‘At your age, I mean.’
She gave a little awkward nod. ‘Okay.’
‘And where will I find you?’
Alarm flared. Her head reared up again.
‘What do you mean, find me?’ she demanded sharply
‘You’re walking off with my shirt,’ he pointed out, amused. ‘It’s rather a favourite. I’d like it back sometime.’
‘Oh!’ Jo looked down at the damp, crumpled linen she was still clutching. She thrust it at him. ‘Here.’
This time their fingers did touch. He caught her hand and held it strongly. If he pulled it back to his body she would touch that warm naked chest with its dusting of hair and its steadily beating heart—and its frightening strength.
Jo’s mouth dried. She stood very still.
He did not carry her hand to his body.
‘Where are you staying?’ he said again. This time it was not casual.
Jo was mute with misery. But she didn’t dare tell him. A whole summer with a roof over her head, a job, close to Mark. She couldn’t put it at risk. She couldn’t.
When she met his eyes, her own were swimming in tears. She who never cried. She shook her head, denying him. It was the most difficult thing she had done in a long time.
He let her go and stepped back.
‘As I said, you’re very wise.’
His voice was light, hard. His smile did not reach his eyes.
For some reason it hurt. She felt almost as if she had let him down. But what choice did she have?
Run, said her inner voice.
She hated it. She was not afraid of him.
But she was afraid of his questions. And these days it was not just her safety that depended on her. She needed to make sure the Greys could not track down Mark through her. She could not afford to answer him.
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