The Millionaire's Cinderella. Anne Marie Winston

      

       Swept away by a rich man…

       THE MILLIONAIRE’S CINDERELLA

      Three sensual and exciting stories from

      three beloved Mills &Boon authors

       We’re proud to present

       MILLS & BOON SPOTLIGHT™

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       September 2009

       The Parks empire: secrets, lies & loves

       Featuring

      Romancing the Enemy by Laurie Paige Diamonds and Deceptions by Marie Ferrarella The Rich Man’s Son by Judy Duarte

       The Millionaire’s Cinderella

       Featuring

      Renegade Millionaire by Kristi Gold Billionaire Bachelors: Gray by Anne Marie Winston Her Convenient Millionaire by Gail Dayton

      THE MILLIONAIRE’S CINDERELLA

      KRISTI GOLD

      ANNE MARIE WINSTON

      GAIL DAYTON

       MILLS & BOON^®

       www.millsandboon.co.uk

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RENEGADE MILLIONAIRE

      Kristi Gold has always believed that love has remarkable healing powers and feels very fortunate to be able to weave stories of romance and commitment. As a bestselling author and romance Writers of America RITA^® Award finalist, she’s learned that although accolades are wonderful, the most cherished rewards come from the most unexpected places, namely from personal stories shared by readers. Kristi resides on a ranch in Central Texas with her husband and three children, along with various and sundry livestock. she loves to hear from readers and can be contacted at KGOLDAUTHOR@ aol.com or Po Box 11292, robinson, TX 76716, USA.

      To Vicky,

      for joining me on every step of the

      incredible journey

      One

      Joanna Blake had never been kissed like this before. If only she knew his name.

      A few moments ago, he had come to her at the stroke of midnight, an ethereal presence with topaz eyes as enticing as a powerful talisman. She’d been standing in a corner of the hotel’s ballroom wearing a borrowed dress, practically unnoticed by most of the medical community in attendance at the New Year’s Eve gala. Now she was under the spell of a stranger who had somehow empowered her to be brave and bold, uninhibited.

      When he pulled her closer in a solid embrace and deepened the kiss, Joanna’s heart rate skyrocketed like the fireworks outside heralding the new year. The sleek glide of his tongue, his heady scent, his arousing heat, called to Joanna on a primal level, a sensual plane she hadn’t known existed until now.

      He ended the kiss yet kept his sultry gaze fastened on her face. Joanna was only mildly aware of the room’s revelry, the jubilant toasts, the clink of champagne glasses. At the moment, it was as if they were the only two occupants caught in some other dimension.

      He brought his lips to her ear and murmured, “Happy New Year,” followed by a word that she didn’t understand in a language that was as exotic as the man. It sounded musical and mysterious, an endearment, she presumed, or maybe hoped. He smiled and she smiled back, helpless to do anything else.

      The spell was suddenly broken when reality took hold. Joanna backed away from him, appalled by what she had done. She had never kissed a perfect stranger. In fact, she hadn’t kissed any man in quite some time. Maybe that was why she had allowed it to happen, and so enthusiastically enjoyed it. Still, that was no excuse to carry on the way she had.

      Overcome by the need to escape, she muttered, “I have to go now.”

      He raised a dark eyebrow. “So soon?”

      She tried to respond but couldn’t quite reclaim her voice. Once again, he had captured her thoughts, her will. She couldn’t allow the hold he had on her. “I need to go home.” Home to an empty, run-down apartment void of warmth and welcome.

      She turned away from the stranger and headed for a safe haven, beyond his mesmeric pull. She’d only managed a few steps before she paused to take another look, as if he still held some mystical power over her. He watched her with a guarded smile, an enigmatic backdrop against the floor-to-ceiling windows.

      His dark hair was pulled back at his nape; his flawless skin the color of warm caramel. His attire stood out among the standard tuxedos, a muted gray jacket and slacks and a black shirt secured at the collar by a platinum medallion. The diamond stud in his ear seemed to twinkle in sync with the lights of the San Antonio skyline reflecting from the window at his back.

      Struggling with good judgment, Joanna hurried toward the double doors to escape all that magnetism. But in her heart of hearts she knew that she would never forget this event, never forget him and the imposing image he cast against the night sky. Never forget his drugging kiss or that something inexplicable had happened to her normally cautious self.

      She reached for the door with one hand and fumbled for the car keys in her small satin bag with the other. In her haste, the purse tipped, spilling its contents. She knelt and quickly scooped up the few items, shoved them back into the bag, then rushed into the corridor.

      Once she reached the stairs outside leading to the parking lot, Joanna gripped the railing and paused to catch her breath before making her way to her dilapidated car. She unlocked the door and slid inside, taking another moment to recover. Luckily she’d had only a single glass of champagne, otherwise she probably wouldn’t be able to drive. At the moment she felt more than a little dizzy, but it wasn’t the wine having that effect on her. It was the kiss. It was him.

      After fumbling twice with the key, Joanna finally turned the ignition and heard only a grinding noise. She tried once more, and then again, receiving nothing but protest from the temperamental vehicle. The worn-out sedan had chosen that moment to give up, something she’d been expecting—and dreading—for months.

      Tapping her forehead against the steering wheel, she released a frustrated groan. Why now? Why tonight? She had no one to call, no one to seek out for a ride unless she returned to the ballroom. If she chose that route then she risked running into the phantom kisser. Maybe that wasn’t such a horrible prospect.

      Good grief. She certainly didn’t need to see him again, no matter how