Hired: Cinderella Chef. Myrna Mackenzie

to the floor beside her wheelchair.

      “I know you’re not the enemy,” she said. “But I—I feel as if you want something from me that I’m not sure I can give and I don’t even know what you want from me yet. Do you?”

      “Not exactly. I want to know that you’re fine.”

      “I am. It’s been rough those first two years, but I’ve learned so much.”

      “Like what?”

      She got a sly look on her face. “Well…I can pop a wheelie.” She did so with ease. “And I can move from my chair to a standard chair in record time.” She pointed to a chair normally used by one of the staff and transferred herself back and forth quickly from one chair to the other and back again. “If I have to, I can get this puppy up a step if it’s not too high,” she said, patting the bicycle tires she favored on her chair. “In short, I can be a real person, Mr. Judson, and get along without help. I’m fine.”

      But his green eyes were stubborn. “I want better than fine. Don’t get me wrong. I’m awed by the fact that you can manage in ways most people couldn’t, but those reluctant, inconsiderate neighbors of ours…”

      “They want celebrity,” she said. “Ceremony. Pretty wrapping paper with all the trimmings. If I were a rock star who just happened to be in a wheelchair, they’d welcome me.”

      He didn’t look away from her direct gaze. “You’re right and I’m not about to apologize for them. They’re wrong.”

      “But you still want me to…to what?”

      “I want you to make them envy you, to show them that the community would be diminished by the loss of all of you.”

      “We shouldn’t have to do that.”

      “You’re damn right about that,” he said, angrily. “But if I get overseas where I’m not in easy reach and someone hires some legal eagle team and tries to do some workaround scheme to close down Able House…I’m trying to prevent them from even wanting to attempt that. That’s all. All right?” he asked.

      Darcy pursed her lips and gave a reluctant nod. “If you put it that way…if we’re gearing up for a fight of sorts…” Her words ended on a harsh laugh and she looked up and blinked, trying not to show her frustration. Sometimes it felt as if she’d been fighting all her life. For money. For respect. For the right just to exist.

      “I’m not trying to punish you, Darcy,” Patrick said, and he cupped her jaw with his palm, kneeling next to her chair. “Really. It’s not like that at all.”

      His hand against her skin produced an instant reaction, an awareness of him as a man. Darcy struggled to think to continue breathing. “I know you’re not trying to punish me,” she managed to say. “I’m so…grateful for Able House. All of us are. Couldn’t you hear it in their voices when they spoke to you today?”

      “I don’t want you to be grateful, although I appreciate the thought. I want you to…not have to justify having your home here.”

      “But we will, won’t we? Just by having to take the extra steps other people don’t have to take, we’ll work for the right to stay.”

      “Yes, and it’s not right,” he said with a groan, sliding to the ground beside her.

      “What are you doing?” She looked down at him.

      He looked up at her and smiled. Her heart thumped. “Making myself short,” he said. “Do you mind?”

      She laughed. “Well, I’ve gotten used to looking up people’s noses, but no, I welcome the chance to look someone other than my friends at Able House in the eye.”

      “I’ll remember that.”

      No, don’t, she wanted to say. Don’t be too nice to me. Don’t make me want things I can’t possibly have. Because she had once had things she wanted and had them taken away. Love had been one of those things.

      She tried not to think of the other thing, the unborn baby she had lost and that terrible day afterward when she had lost that last sliver of faith that she could ever try to become a mother again. Darcy fought not to remember all of that…and failed.

      “So, why are you going overseas?” she asked, wanting to change from the subject of loss to something more positive.

      Patrick shrugged those big, broad shoulders. “It’s time. I’ve been running the company for years, raising the girls. Now, they’re grown and I have things I’ve put off that I want to do. I’m twenty-nine, still single, I run a major international company that sells sporting goods, but while I love adventure sports and risk-taking, I haven’t taken any risks.”

      Darcy gave him an “are you kidding me” look. “I thought you said you raised three sisters. Sounds like risk-taking to me.”

      To her consternation, he moved closer, resting his arms on the side of her chair so that he was very close. “Are you teasing me, Darcy?”

      No, she was torturing herself. But she wasn’t going to back down. “I’m just saying it couldn’t have been easy.”

      He moved away and went back to leaning against the wall. “I loved it, totally, but…you have no idea.”

      “No. I’ve never had any children.” And never would now. Not after losing her baby in the accident, not when she wasn’t going to get married, ever, and not if she couldn’t be the kind of mother she wanted to be. So much for avoiding that heart-constricting pain.

      She looked up and saw that Patrick was studying her closely. So, she dove into survival mode and forced a smile. “So, tell me more about your upcoming trip.”

      He continued to study her for a few more seconds.

      “Please,” she said.

      He nodded. “It’s one of those trips that’s the result of too many years of daydreams. Probably too long and too expensive and too monumental in scope, but I can’t wait. Several months spread out over a number of continents. Part of it will be spent on business and part will be a series of charitable fund-raisers built around adventure sports. We’re hoping to draw big crowds and really make a difference.”

      He held out his hands. “It’s a very meaty venture, a long time in the making, and yeah, I’m pumped, even though I feel just a little guilty. It sounds as if I couldn’t wait for the girls to grow up so I could have a life.”

      Darcy leaned forward, closer to him. “Why should you feel guilty? You’ve worked hard, everyone knows your company is a success. You raised your sisters and…how old are they?”

      “Twenty-five, twenty-three and eighteen. Cara and Amy are married and have children of their own.”

      “Well, then, there’s no problem, is there? They’re grown, and they’re not going to care what you do.”

      Patrick gave her a look of disbelief. “You haven’t met my sisters.”

      No, she hadn’t. But that changed a few hours later when the doorbell rang, and she heard the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Lots of footsteps. She’d been told to prepare food for a few extra mouths, but it sounded as if an entire army had arrived.

      She and Olivia exchanged a look. “It’s them,” Olivia offered.

      As if she knew who “them” was. “Who?” Darcy asked. “You’ve been here longer than me. I don’t know the code yet.”

      Olivia rolled her eyes. “The sisters,” she whispered as the voices grew closer.

      Darcy barely had time to panic before the kitchen was filled with tall, dark-haired, gorgeous women and…a dog? A big dog?

      “Fuzz, get down,” one young woman ordered as the dog pounced, setting his paws on Darcy’s lap. Startled, Darcy dropped the stainless steel bowl