Amanda Berry - L A Cinderella

He smiled, pleased with himself. “Yeah.”

After she swallowed the small piece of heaven, she turned to him. “What about you?”

“For the most part, my birth and subsequent childhood are public record.”

“Assume I don’t know anything, because I wasn’t around when you were born.” She wanted to know how he felt about growing up with his family, not what the press reported.

“Well, I spent a lot of my time on movie sets or in foreign countries. I had a tutor and a nanny. My parents tried to keep me out of the tabloids, but when I started auditioning all bets were off.”

“How old were you?” she asked gently.

“I was eight.” He set down his fork and picked up his wineglass. Staring at the contents, he continued, “I was ten when I had my first crush. She was an actress, too. We made it into all the teeny-bop magazines.”

“I never read any of those.”

His gaze pivoted to her and gave her an assessing look. “I don’t suppose you would have. When it ended, I talked to my parents about going to a real high school. After all, I’d played a high schooler on TV, how hard could real life be?”

“I never went to high school. Mom homeschooled me, but I bet you were the coolest kid in school.” She pushed her plate away and picked up her wineglass.

His hand covered hers on the table. “Not really. Sure, I had all the toys boys like and the best clothes, but I’d never really socialized with kids my own age before.” He picked up her hand and turned it over. His finger traced the lines on her palm. “I found a group and dated a little, but they either resented me for who I was or wanted something from me.”

Something troubled him, but she didn’t press. The more she learned about him the more real he seemed. The harder it would be to let him go.

He pushed back from the table. “Come on. I want to show you my home. I’ll bring dessert.”

He grabbed a couple of spoons and the container before taking her hand and leading her across the kitchen.

The rest of his house was as amazing and intimidating as the kitchen. From the crystal chandeliers in the dining room to the antiques in the living room. From the extra-large-screen TV in the media room to the red-lined pool table in the recreation room. The splendor and richness made her head spin.

“How long have you lived here?” She knew the man was a multimillionaire. She knew he wore expensive clothes, even if they were casual, but it hadn’t really hit her. Now it slapped her across the face. Her apartment could fit into his media room.

“This was my parents’ home. I inherited it.” He seemed to choke up on the statement before it passed. “Besides, it’s small compared to the one I own in Italy.”

Her head still reeling, he opened a door and pulled her into a darkened room. She slammed into his back as he halted and flipped a switch. Soft lights lit the interior of the room.

She stepped around Chase and her mouth dropped open. Before her, tropical trees and flowers filled the room in bold colors, reds, yellows, greens and blues. The scent of the flowers and the leafy smell of the trees perfumed the air. A glass roof and walls enclosed the garden.

A stone path wound its way along the floor through the trees and disappeared into the foliage. She could hear the chirps of birds somewhere in the room.

“My favorite room.” Chase’s hand rested at her lower back.

“I can see why.” She gaped up at the large, colorful flowers as he led her farther into the room. The back was blocked off and filled with tropical birds of all colors. She stopped as a large toucan swept down to the ground where a bowl of fruit rested near a small pond. It was unbelievable. Almost like stepping through a doorway onto a tropical island.

“Here we are.” He led her into a small gazebo open to the sights and sounds of the room, but secluded from the door to the rest of the house.

“You could forget where you are in here.” She settled on the pillows covering the floor, still trying to absorb all the colors and scents.

“That’s the point. I can’t always make time to escape to a tropical location, but I can usually slip into this room. I’m pretty good at pretending.” He lowered himself down beside her and stretched out on his side. “Dessert?”

Tearing her gaze from a beautiful orange flower, she found herself captivated by his eyes, and her breathing hitched.

She knew why she’d agreed to come here to his house.

She wasn’t strong enough to walk away from Chase. She didn’t want to walk away from the attraction between them. When it was over, she was fairly certain it would be him doing the walking.

But that didn’t mean she couldn’t enjoy the ride. “What did you have in mind?”

His grin was positively wicked. He popped the lid off the last container. “Dark chocolate mousse.”

He handed her a spoon and dug his into the creamy mousse. He lifted the spoon to her mouth and waited.

Her gaze never left his as she leaned forward and took the spoon and chocolate into her mouth. The sweetness and the slight bitterness of the chocolate combined to form ecstasy in her mouth. She closed her eyes and savored the taste rolling around on her tongue.

Before she could open her eyes, soft lips pressed against hers. His mouth tasted like the wine they’d been drinking flavored with the chocolate of the mousse. She didn’t resist when his body shifted, pushing her back into the pillows.

His hands lifted her glasses from her face before his mouth returned to the gentle assault on her senses. She’d never experienced anything quite like Chase before. Every opportunity he could touch her, he did. Every chance to kiss her, he took.

As his lips caressed her neck, she wondered if this wasn’t a good idea. “Maybe… maybe we should stop.” Her fingers dug into his shoulders as he sucked her earlobe into his mouth.

“Mmm-hmm. You’re right. We haven’t finished dessert yet.” His mouth returned to hers. His tongue slid along her bottom lip. His hands caressed the sides of her body, pulling her firmly up into his body. Her flesh warmed beneath his, responding to his fire.

“Chase?” she murmured against his lips. He raised his head and she forgot what she was going to say at the gentle smile on his lips and the desire in his eyes. That was a look she’d never seen in his movies. Any protests she may have had died on her tongue. She hadn’t really meant them anyway.

“Would you like more dessert?” His finger lightly brushed over her nipple.

A shudder coursed through her. Resistance was futile. “Yes, please.”

Sitting cross-legged on Chase’s king-size bed wearing only his T-shirt, Natalie picked up one of the chocolate-covered strawberries from the tray. She couldn’t wipe the ridiculously pleased smile off her face and didn’t really want to.

Sunday afternoon had never been her favorite day or time. Usually it was reserved for doing laundry or running errands. But after spending the last few hours in Chase’s arms, it was definitely moving to the top of her list. Unfortunately, Monday morning would follow closely on its heels.

She glanced at the open bedroom door. Chase had discovered her weakness for sweets and had promised her the best hot chocolate ever. He’d kissed her soundly before insisting she stay in bed and conserve her energy.

She’d never felt so pampered or so thoroughly loved before. Her muscles and body ached, but it was a pleasant ache. It couldn’t possibly last, though. Tomorrow was Monday, after all.

While this fantasy had been fabulous and she never wanted it to end, Monday changed everything. Back to the real world. Back to being an accountant beneath notice and an actor on the cover of People.

“Whoa, what happened to that smile?” Chase in only a pair of boxer briefs stood in the doorway, balancing a tray. “There it is.” He set the tray on the massive nightstand and joined her on the bed. “I’m sorry to inform you that I’m out of chocolate, but I found some protein instead.”

He produced a plate with a turkey sandwich cut into squares. “Eat. You need your energy.”

She smiled and pushed her glasses back up her nose. “Thanks.” Taking a sandwich, she smiled at him.

He lay down beside her on the bed and rubbed the hem of her shirt between two fingers. The back of his fingers brushed her skin, fanning the ever-present flame.

He helped himself to a sandwich square and a chocolate-covered strawberry. She couldn’t keep her mind from their shared bath last night or the morning spent in this bed.

She picked off a corner of the sandwich and chewed it thoughtfully. “What are we going to do about tomorrow?”

He dragged his finger lazily up her leg. “What about tomorrow?” He kissed her thigh and looked up at her with his lazy grin.

Her heart leapt, and her body responded with a pulsing need. She needed to focus. “Work. Chase, stop that. We need to talk about work.”

He picked up her plate and set it on the table. He handed her a bottle of water and sat up on the bed with her. “What about work?” This time his eyes were serious as he watched her drink.

She almost spilled from the intensity of his gaze. She capped the water before it ended up all over the bed.

“Well?” He took the bottle from her and set it aside.

“Well, what do we do about this?”

He scooted behind her and pulled her back to his front. She leaned her head back against him. He wrapped one arm around her shoulder and the other around her stomach, pulling her tight against him.

His voice was quiet and soft when he asked, “What do you want?” His arms tightened around her.

She turned her head so that her cheek rested on his bare chest. His heartbeat echoed in her ears. He made her feel warm and safe and beautiful.