Cinderella's Billion-Dollar Christmas. SUSAN MEIER

her. “Okay.”

      A laugh burst from him. “Okay?”

      “Yeah. Okay. See how easy that was? You told me the whole story and now I understand all the weird things you’ve done since you realized who I was.”

      “I didn’t do any weird things.”

      She raised her left eyebrow as she gave him an “Oh, really?” expression.

      “Name one.”

      “Well, when we met, you talked a lot. Once you found out I was the person you were looking for, you barely said anything. In the diner, you were also kind of funny.”

      He laughed again. “I was funny?”

      “Not hysterical but...” She shrugged. “You know. Silly?”

      “My parents would not believe you if you told them that.” He turned and started walking again.

      She raced to catch up with him. “Which means I have to tell them. If only because they’ll get a chuckle out of it.”

      “You’ll probably never meet them.”

      She sighed. He was back to being careful again. She understood, but if they were stuck together for the rest of the day and he didn’t talk, their time together would be insufferably boring.

      “Are we really going out for dinner tonight?”

      “Yes. One thing about New York City, there are a million wonderful restaurants I can take you to.”

      She glanced down at her worn jeans. She did have one dress packed. She’d planned on using it for the meeting with the lawyer, though. “Just don’t get too fancy.”

      “Maybe we should go look for a dress?”

      “I don’t take charity.”

      “There’s an entire slush fund at your disposal. That’s not charity.”

      “You see things your way. I see them mine.”

      “Look, the bottom line is I don’t want any attention being called to you. Neither does Danny. Dressing to fit in is a good idea.” He pointed ahead of them. “There’s a shop a few blocks down. It’s where I get my mom’s Christmas and birthday gifts. I’m going to have Danny set up an account for you. That way, after tonight, if you feel like you want a dress or shoes or something, you can get what you want or what you feel you need while you’re here. No pressure.”

      “You want me to shop where you get your mom’s clothes?” She laughed. “No thanks.”

      He sighed. “It’s a nice place. It’s got things for younger people, too.”

      “If you expect me to shop there, it better.”

      “It does.”

      She quelled the flutter in her stomach. She longed to look like the woman wearing the pencil skirt and silky blouse...but she also didn’t have any money. Didn’t have anywhere to wear something like that when she got home. Buying pretty things would be a waste. A waste of the money of a man who had hurt her. Money she didn’t want—except to help her dad. She was only here on the chance she was an heir and she could help her parents. They were the ones who’d plucked her out of the system and saved her. She didn’t need fancy clothes. Especially if she wasn’t an heir.

      “But don’t get your hopes up. I’m not going shopping.”

      “You never know.”

      “I know.”

      “No. You don’t.”

      She shook her head. For a guy who wasn’t supposed to talk to her, he never seemed to let her get the last word.

       CHAPTER FOUR

      NICK TURNED TOWARD the entry of a grand hotel. Leni glanced up. A white facade was the perfect backdrop for the huge green wreath that sat above the portico. Red ornaments scattered around it glittered in the late afternoon sun.

      The muscles around her heart tweaked. She was missing everything happening at home. Christmas parties, carolers, making cookies with her mom. Nick had told her to pack for two weeks and she assumed that’s the longest she’d be away. She might miss the baking and extra-special holiday tips from regular customers at the diner, along with the occasional gift, but she’d be home over a week before Christmas.

      There was no point in getting homesick. Everything was under control.

      She followed Nick as he walked into the lobby, marched to the reservations clerk, gave his name and got a key card. Within seconds, they were in the elevator.

      He continued the silence through the ride to the tenth floor and down a quiet hall. When they stopped at a door, he opened it by scanning the key card. She stepped inside the room and gasped.

      A huge window ran along the entire back wall, bringing the sights of Times Square into her room. Two red sofas sat parallel, in front of a marble fireplace with a bar off to the left. A dining table and upholstered chairs had been set up near the window.

      “All this is for me?”

      “Yes.”

      She looked around in awe. “This has got to be costing the estate a pretty penny.”

      “The estate has lots of pretty pennies, so don’t worry about it.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ll be back at seven.”

      She nodded.

      “If you need anything...and I mean anything, call the concierge.”

      “I do wish I had a book.”

      “I’m sure they can get you one.”

      With that he turned and walked out of the room, closing the door behind him.

      She glanced around again. “No television.” She spotted the big mirror above the fireplace, saw the remote on the mantel and laughed. “Thank goodness I watch enough house fixer-upper shows to know how they hide televisions these days.”

      She carefully lowered herself onto one of the two red sofas, running her hand along the smooth leather, enjoying the luxury.

      Was this how she’d live if she really was rich?

      Even as she thought that, the silence of her suite enveloped her. She’d hate to think that all wealthy people were lonely. But Nick was rich...a simple billionaire he’d said...and he barely spoke. Of course, she knew why he didn’t want to talk to her, but he didn’t even speak to his driver.

      That was what had bothered her. He never even said hello to his driver, the pilot for their plane or any of the ground crew scrambling to get their luggage into the jet’s belly. He walked around as if he were in his own little world.

      Which was a shame. Good-looking guy like that should be the happiest man around. And with all his money, he should realize he was one of the luckiest.

      She thought of her adoptive dad. How he’d worked and scrimped and saved and barely made ends meet. Yet, he considered himself one of the luckiest people on the planet.

      Nick Kourakis should be swinging-from-the-chandeliers happy and if she got the chance, maybe she would tell him that.

      Nick arrived at Leni’s suite at exactly seven. When she opened the door to him, he almost stepped back. His former elf wore a simple black dress with a red sweater. Her eyes had been painted with shadow and liner and mascara—but only enough to make her pretty, not overdone—and her lips were ruby red. Her long brown hair had been caught up in a twist in the back, giving her face a look of sophistication that nearly stole his breath.