A Modern Cinderella. Kate Hardy

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Название A Modern Cinderella
Автор произведения Kate Hardy
Жанр Короткие любовные романы
Серия Mills & Boon M&B
Издательство Короткие любовные романы
Год выпуска 0
isbn 9780008906016



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discovered Will possibly felt that way too…

      Well, it gave them some common ground, didn’t it? A stretch maybe, but she would take what she could get…

      Despite the danger, Cassidy wanted to know more. Her dilemma became whether or not to actually ask any more. If she did she would be getting a window into his life—would have new Will Ryan memories to add to the cornucopia of old ones she already carried around with her. If somewhere along the way the new version of him proved as addictive as the old? Well, then she was in big, big trouble…

      Who was she kidding? Cassidy had always been one of those people that needed to know. Christmas presents—she shook them. Books—she read the last pages before she got halfway through them. Favourite TV shows—she trawled the internet looking for spoilers for a new series before the episodes made it to the screen. There was about as much chance of her not asking as—

      ‘So tell me more about Malibu.’

      ‘What do you want to know?’

      ‘Whatever you decide to tell me…’

      She looked out through the windscreen at the glittering aquamarine blue of the Pacific Ocean, the thrill of seeing it for the first time bringing a soft smile to her mouth. She had always loved the ocean. Not surprising, really, when she lived on a tiny island surrounded by it. But there was just something about the ebb and flow of the tide…as if it was the subliminal heartbeat of the planet. Every time she saw the sea it made her smile. Seeing the Pacific for the first time was like meeting a new friend.

      ‘That’s the Pacific. Beautiful, isn’t she?’

      ‘She is.’ Cassidy allowed herself to wonder why anything associated with the sea was always a ‘she’. Probably something to do with moods and unpredictability and seduction, she supposed. From that point of view it was easy to see why seafaring men of old would have chosen the feminine to describe her.

      ‘Malibu hugs the Pacific north of Santa Monica. It has over twenty miles of coastline. Surfing is the big thing, obviously—endless opportunities for catching the perfect wave…’

      The smile she could hear in his voice made her turn to look at his strong profile; the flicker of his thick dark lashes as he watched the traffic was unbelievably hypnotic to her. ‘You surf?’

      The corner of his mouth tugged. ‘Used to. Don’t have as much time now…’

      A sudden visual image of Will walking out of the surf, glistening with water and shaking his head to loosen silvery droplets from his thick hair while he smiled that smile, did all sorts of delicious things to Cassidy’s libido and left her mouth unbearably dry. There were times her active imagination took on a life of its own—useful in writerly terms, but not so useful when she was supposed to be thinking in terms of Will as a business partner. There could be no thinking of him bare-chested. Or towelling his hair for him. Or lying down on a large blanket beside him on warm sand.

      Goodness, it was hot all of a sudden…

      ‘It’s part of the reason I bought a house on the beach.’

      Suddenly staying at his house was looking more attractive to her. But…‘You bought a house on the beach so you could surf more, and then quit surfing? That makes perfect sense.’

      He shrugged. ‘Just the way it worked out.’

      The house they pulled up in front of looked small and cosy. The sound of the ocean filled her ears as she stepped outside into warm salty air that made her breathe deep and appreciate the difference in air quality after the lack of oxygen in Los Angeles. But when Will unlocked the front door and stepped back to allow her to go ahead of him her eyes widened. Okay, it wasn’t small and cosy. Will’s house was…Well, it was amazing…

      The deceptive frontage on the road made it look like it was just the one storey, and not all that big, when in fact it was split level and stretched for miles, with its lower level suspended above golden sands outside so that the huge picture windows made it look as if the entire house was floating above the waves. Open-plan, rich wooden floors, sparse furniture that didn’t take anything from the views. It was very male, very modern, but stunningly beautiful.

      It yelled money from every corner.

      When Cassidy hovered at the top of the stairs, Will closed the front door and stepped over beside her. ‘The view sold it.’

      ‘Well, it would, wouldn’t it?’

      ‘Kitchen, living room, gym, home cinema and office are all on the lower level. Your room is over here to the left.’ He took her case in that direction while she continued staring out of the windows.

      Now she knew why Lizzie had fallen for Pemberley before she fell for Darcy. Because the part of Cassidy’s soul that loved the ocean could live happily ever after in a house like Will’s. Give or take a few feminine touches. If she lived there she would have bright comfy cushions on the large sofas, flowers in vases, books on the almost empty shelves where pieces of modern art were displayed. She could picture it in her mind’s eye. She could practically hear music playing from an invisible stereo, laughter echoing off the walls, and the sound of small, running bare feet coming in from the beach. It made her heart hurt. How dared he have the house of her dreams? It was as if he’d purposely gone out and stolen every dream she’d ever had and held it from her, to add to breaking her heart the way he had.

      She genuinely hated him for that.

      With a deep breath she turned on her heel and followed Will along the hall that skirted the floor below, rolling her eyes when she got to the open doorway and looked in at the bedroom she would be staying in. Of course it had the same ocean view. And naturally Will was sliding open the glass windows so the sea breeze caught the light curtains. Was there ever any doubt it would have its own balcony, with comfy lounge chairs just waiting to be occupied so she could watch the sunset at the end of the day?

      Stepping into a little corner of heaven, she plunked down on the end of the large bed and allowed herself to bounce just once on the deep mattress while she fought the need to cry. It really wasn’t fair. How could he? What had she ever done to him to deserve this kind of torture?

      Will turned from the windows and pushed his hands deep into the pockets of his dark jeans as he studied her. ‘Tired?’

      Weary would have been a better word, she felt. ‘A little. Coffee would probably help. And I should take some tablets again, just in case.’

      ‘Okay.’ He nodded. ‘Did you have breakfast?’

      ‘No.’

      ‘Yeah, that’ll help you get better. Will bagels and lox do?’

      ‘Depends.’ Cassidy lifted her chin, stifled a wry smile and arched a brow. ‘What is lox, exactly?’

      His eyes sparkled. ‘It’s smoked salmon. Bagels with cream cheese and smoked salmon.’

      ‘Ahh.’

      ‘Is that “Yes, Will”?’

      A more genuine smile broke free as she inclined her head. ‘Yes, Will. Thank you. Bagels and lox sounds lovely.’

      As if to emphasise her approval her stomach growled softly, making Will’s mouth twitch as he left the room. ‘Come down when you’re ready. Feed a cold and all that…’

      She wished he would stop being nice. Annoying Will her heart could cope with. But if he started adding Nice Will to the house she’d fallen in love with at first sight she would be in even bigger trouble than she had been twenty-four hours ago.

      Lying back on the bed, she turned her head and closed her eyes, breathing as deep as her aching chest would allow while she compared Will’s life to the one she had. It wasn’t hard to see who had fared better. If her self-confidence had been low before she’d stepped on the plane in Dublin, it was pretty much sitting at the bottom of a dark pit of despair now. She really needed to do something that would make her feel like herself again. But that was just it. Since Will, she’d never