The Millionaire's Cinderella: Renegade Millionaire / Billionaire Bachelors: Gray / Her Convenient Millionaire. KRISTI GOLD
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Truth was, her car sat in her apartment lot after she’d scraped together enough money to have it towed. She didn’t have enough funds to have it fixed, though, and the darn thing still refused to run. She wished she could say the same for her sprinting pulse. “Actually, I’m into mass transit these days. I’m taking the bus home.”
“I could give you a ride.”
She had no doubt about that. “I’ll manage fine.”
“Okay, if you’re sure. Guess I’ll just have my coffee alone.”
She forced herself to turn away from him. Away from all the electricity the man emitted like a live wire. She picked up her pace before she changed her mind and went back to him, probably at her own peril.
“Have a nice night, Cinderella.”
Joanna stopped dead in her tracks.
Slowly she turned only to find an empty space where he had been. Vanished, like some unearthly presence, into a netherworld.
Joanna laid a hand across her pounding heart and took in several deep breaths. One realization haunted her like a ghost.
He had recognized her.
Two
Rio sat once more in the hospital cafeteria, this time with only a cup of black coffee. He didn’t dare waste another meal in case he was summoned back to the emergency room or to the labor and delivery floor. It was now nearing 8:00 p.m., and he still had three hours left to take calls before a resident relieved him. Regardless, he was determined to get out of there, even if it meant coming back in.
He should be tired, dead on his feet, but he wasn’t, and he had Joanna Blake to thank for that. He’d almost gone after her, waited outside the dressing room and tried again to convince her to join him.
He wasn’t sure why he hadn’t. Normally, he didn’t give up easily where women were concerned, but this woman was different. She sure as hell wasn’t his type, surprisingly innocent—except for that mouth of hers. A great mouth, even when she chose to use it as a weapon on him, in every respect. She was also a mom.
Withdrawing the picture from his scrub shirt pocket, Rio studied the young boy he presumed to be Joanna Blake’s son. He could be wrong, but he doubted it. The kid had the same eyes, the same dark hair, the same smile. He flipped it over again, as he’d done several times over the past few days.
Joseph Adam, age 3. My heart. Definitely something a mother would write.
Rio had seen the picture fly onto the floor New Year’s Eve when Joanna had dropped her bag on the run. But before he could shove his way through the crowd and retrieve the photo in order to return it to her, she had already flown away like a dove finally emancipated from a cage.
He should’ve given it back to her tonight, but he hadn’t. Maybe he viewed it as some connection to her. Maybe he would use it as an excuse to see her again. Maybe even tonight.
Why not? He wasn’t one to avoid risks outside his medical practice. Besides, he wanted to know more about her. Wanted to know, if he kissed her again, would he still have the same gut-level reaction? Would it go beyond a kiss? Only one way to find out.
Rio decided it would take her several minutes to dress, make a call, then another fifteen or so to check on Mrs. Gonzales. Only fifteen minutes had passed since he’d left her in the hall. If he hurried and changed into his street clothes, he might catch up to her at the bus stop.
On that thought, he shoved his chair back and went in search of a woman who might not want to be found. Not that he’d let that stop him.
“Nice night, huh?”
Joanna glanced at the man who’d seated himself on the bus-stop bench where she now waited. She’d been so lost in her thoughts—thoughts of Rio Madrid—she hadn’t even noticed his presence until that moment. He was big and beefy, his round ruddy face covered by a full reddish beard. He wore only a faded denim vest— ridiculous considering the cold—his hamsize arms sporting tattoos that ran together in a webwork of blue, covering almost every inch of his skin.
A scruffy scarecrow of a guy wearing a dirty cap and threadbare flannel shirt, his lecherous grin exposing a sparse display of yellowed teeth, stood at the opposing end of the bench. The smell of stale beer and cigarettes carried on the faint January breeze, causing Joanna’s empty stomach to pitch.
The big man nodded toward his partner. “Mind if my friend has a seat?”
Before Joanna could issue a protest, the second man took his place on the other side of her. Wonderful. Flanked by offensive lowlifes.
Focusing straight ahead at the street, she became more than a little wary when in her peripheral vision she noted both of them staring.
“You want a smoke, missy?” the skinny guy said, his voice rough as unfinished pine.
She hugged her arms closer to her middle and shot him a look of disdain. “No, thanks.”
The big guy released a grating chuckle. “Maybe you want to go down the street and have a beer with us. Take a walk on the wild side.”
Not with these animals. “I don’t drink.”
The ogre inched closer, his massive thigh brushing hers. “Aw, come on now. Everyone needs a drink now and then.”
Considering his breath, he’d probably had plenty. She shuddered. “Not me.”
He tipped his head close to her shoulder. “You sure are sweet.”
Joanna bolted from the bench and faced them, trying hard to hide her fear behind a toughness she didn’t feel. “Don’t trust appearances, mister. I can be downright mean when I have to be.”
The ape snorted. “I bet you can be bad, too.” The skinny one let go a round of wheezing chuckles.
Joanna slipped her hand inside her bag, then remembered she hadn’t replaced her pepper spray since she’d changed purses the other night. Turning toward the street only enough to keep the pair in her sights, she silently cursed her stupidity for not getting out of there at the first sign of trouble. Where was the darned bus?
Joanna sensed movement, then felt the heavy weight of a huge arm draped around her neck, a hand rubbing her shoulder. Frozen by fear, she stiffened her frame and tried to plan what she should do next. Kick him in the groin and run back to the hospital? The parking lot stood between her and the main building. A big parking lot filled with only a few cars and probably fewer people.
No, she wouldn’t run. She wouldn’t let them see her fear.
With a sigh, she yanked the man’s arm from her shoulder and stepped to one side. “Look, I’m not interested in a beer, or a good time. I’m heading home to my husband who happens to be a cop. So if I were you, I’d keep my hands to myself before I drew back a nub.”
“I’d do what the lady says, because if she doesn’t take care of you, I will.”
Joanna looked from her harassers to Rio Madrid, standing behind the bench, his hands hidden away in the pockets of a black leather jacket, his eyes dark and intense. He looked predatory, ready to pounce.
He came around the bench and put himself between Joanna and the strangers. “Move on, amigos. Find yourself some other woman.”
The ragtag pair faced him. The big one was several inches taller than the doctor and looked just as threatening. “Maybe we don’t want another woman.”
Rio wrapped one arm around Joanna in a protective embrace. She heard a click and realized someone had produced a knife or a switchblade. Her throat constricted, her body stiffened. Then she realized it was the doctor who had the weapon when the giant glanced at Rio’s hand that Joanna couldn’t see.
The man backed off, looking paranoid. “Okay. Take her. She ain’t that great, anyway.”