The Millionaire's Cinderella. Anne Marie Winston
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much so. I don’t even know where he is. Not that I want to know.”
Sorry bastard. “Does Joseph ask about him?”
“Sometimes, but like you, he was too young to remember much about his dad. Joseph’s the best thing that came out of my marriage. He’s always been my strength.”
The unshed tears glistening in Joanna’s blue eyes caused something deep inside Rio to hurt for her, made him want to take away that pain he saw all too clearly, even though she tried to hide it with a weak smile.
“Call him now, Joanna.”
She looked surprised and thankful. “Are you sure?”
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“I’d like that. But I insist on paying you for the—”
“Forget it. Just call your son.” He nodded toward the phone hanging on the wall.
She quickly rose from the chair and strode to the phone. Rio thought he should probably leave, give her some privacy, but for some reason he stayed, maybe to provide some comfort if she needed it. He doubted she’d ask, though, or easily accept his consolation.
“Joseph, it’s Mommy.” Her face immediately brightened. “You’re playing with your train? I’m so glad you like it, sweetie. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you more Christmas presents, but maybe next year.”
A long pause suspended the conversation until Joanna finally said, “I’ll have to see about that bike. But you have to have training wheels until you learn to ride it.”
Rio watched Joanna from the corner of his eye while he cleared the plates from the table. She twisted the cord round and round her finger, swiped at her face now and then, raised her chin and covered her mouth on occasion. He could tell she was trying hard not to cry. If only he could do something to rid her of those tears, at least temporarily. Get her mind off her troubles. Maybe he could.
After she hung up, he held out his hand to her. “Come here. I want to show you something.”
She blinked then stared. “Where are we going?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“Surely you don’t mean that hot tub.”
“Nope. I want to show you my favorite place.”
Joanna stared with wide-eyed wonder at a room that held every indoor form of recreation imaginable, including a freestanding basketball goal on one end. A pool table sat in the middle; electronic pinball games lined the paneled walls. The only thing that even hinted at adulthood was a bar that resembled something out of a saloon, complete with a mirrored background, shelves full of liquor and inverted glasses of every shape and size dangling from a row of holders above the counter.
“This used to be a formal dining room.”
Rio’s statement brought Joanna back into the real world, or his world, as the case may be. “It looks big enough to be a ballroom,” she said.
“True. The room didn’t have anything in it when I bought the house, so I turned the space into play town.”
Play town was an accurate description, Joanna decided. Perfect, since it seemed Rio Madrid was still a little boy playing at being an adult—conservative doctor by day, adventurous adolescent by night. She’d known his kind before, been married to his kind, as a matter of fact. The kind of man that should be avoided at all costs.
But she couldn’t avoid him at the moment since he was still holding her hand, looking as though he was awaiting approval on a job well done. Looking devastatingly handsome.
Tugging from his grasp, she walked to the leafscrolled wooden pool table, obviously expensive, maybe even an antique, more than likely five times more costly than her car.
She faced him and immediately noticed the pride in his expression. “Very interesting, Doctor. Is this what you do in your spare time when you’re not in the hot tub?”
“Yeah. It helps me relax.” He cocked one eyebrow. “Can I interest you in a game?”
Oh, yes. Oh, no! “What kind of game?”
He made a sweeping gesture around the room. “Take your pick, but I was thinking pool.”
Now, this could be great fun, a chance for Joanna to play her own little game. “Oh, I don’t know. It’s been a long time. I’ve never been all that good.” Not quite as good as her dad, but she could definitely hold her own.
“I’ll go easy on you.” His mellow, hypnotic voice made her think of slow and easy lovemaking. She suspected he would take his time, using his skilled hands, his mouth…
She should be horsewhipped for thinking such things, but Joanna couldn’t deny that Rio Madrid was the kind of man that fantasies were made of. Nothing wrong with fantasies, she guessed, as long as she didn’t allow them to take flight into reality.
Rio crouched at the end of the table, retrieved the balls from beneath and rolled them onto the felt surface. After he had them racked, he made his way to the cues hanging on the only bare space of wall. He grabbed two then came back to her. “Exactly how much experience do you have?”
A loaded question, especially since he posed it as if it had nothing to do with billiards. She took the pool stick he offered and a deep breath, but couldn’t avoid brushing his hand, couldn’t ignore the electric current that his touch generated throughout her whole body.
“As I’ve said, it’s been a while.” Been a while since she’d played pool, since she’d made love, since she’d even wanted to make love.
“I’ll let you break then. Give you a head start.”
She could use one at the moment, but she inherently knew it would take little time for Rio to catch up.
Determined to focus on the game, she rolled her shoulders to loosen up then walked to the end of the table, lined up the cue ball and studied the angle. Feigning ignorance, she asked, “Is this okay?”
“I’d say that.”
Rio didn’t appear to be looking at the ball, or the cue. He was looking straight at her cleavage, slightly exposed beneath her cotton blouse because of her position. Normally she would scold him. Normally she would button up to the neck and give him a dirty look. But she didn’t feel all that normal. She felt wicked, delighting in the power she seemed to have over him at that moment.
About time. He’d mesmerized her on more than one occasion.
Finally he looked away and removed the rack. “It’s all yours.”
With a little thoughtful planning, Joanna managed to hit the cue ball exactly right, causing it to bounce twice but landing short of the other balls.
She straightened and tried to look contrite. “Sorry. Guess it’s been longer than I thought.”
“Maybe you’re not holding the cue right.” He took his time traveling to the other end of the table but didn’t hesitate when he came up behind her and circled his arms around her, positioning her hand on the end of the stick. Joanna had all the confidence in the world on how to handle a cue, but she didn’t have a clue on how to handle his nearness and still remain composed enough to play the game. He was warm against her back, hard, male, making her feel intoxicated as if she’d raided the old-timey bar and downed all the whiskey.
His breath fanned her face, fed the flame now spanning the length of her. He smelled like incense, spicy and exotic and tempting. Joanna continued to play ignorant, play at this game of chance where the stakes were high and losing all common sense could be the price she would pay if not careful.
“Now hold it steady,” he said in a warm honeyed voice, thick and seductively sweet.
Steady? How could she? “I’ll try.”
The feel of