Cinderella's Rebellion, page 6
Cyn looked troubled. She patted his head. “Doctor, I don’t know what to do about him. He’s very protective, but aggressive. He lifted his leg on my date last night.”
The vet nodded. “Happens in male dogs. The testosterone. Perhaps there’s a female in heat in the neighborhood.”
Just one, Derek thought, fuming. One very, very hot, toasty female who sent all his male hormones skyrocketing to the stratosphere. Surely he never dreamed Cinderella would end up as every teenage boy’s wet dream. After all, she was a character in a fairy tale. A fairy tale, for crying out loud.
But she moved, ah, like a porn star.
Who could ever have guessed it?
“Maybe obedience training would help?” Cyn gave him a doubtful look as he lay on the stainless steel table, looking obedient—goodboygoodboy—and licking her hand.
Wanting to lick something else. Mmmmm.
“Obedience training?” The doctor with the egg-shaped head frowned at him as if Derek were a specimen grown in a lab. “I doubt it. I highly recommend neutering.”
Derek’s tongue stopped. He froze.
“Oh my.” A delicate blush coated her cheeks. She couldn’t seem to say the word. Cyn pointed to the area between his hindquarters instead. “Remove his…”
“His testicles.”
Oh shit. He was in for it now.
“Well, at least he wouldn’t be licking them anymore,” she said practically.
Derek stared in speechless, barkless incredulity. And they called this the Happy House Pet Medical Clinic? What kind of pet could be happy having his family jewels chopped off?
“Plus if he’s neutered, the county license will cost less money,” the oh-so-helpful doctor pointed out.
“I hate to do it, but…”
“If you don’t, when he smells every female in heat, he’ll end up urinating on all your furniture.”
No, no, I won’t, I swear, I’m toilet trained, he howled silently. I’ll even leave the seat down! I promise!
“Much as I hate doing this, Doctor… I agree. Cut them off.”
Derek gave a howl of terrified protest. He watched frantically as the evil-looking nurse with the dancing kitties came forward, syringe in hand. “Now nice doggie, relax. This will not hurt a bit…”
Hey you shut up it’s not your manhood on the line, hey don’t that no no no no no…
Blackness rushed up to meet him and he sank into it.
He awoke and immediately shifted back to his human form, gasping. Stretched out, fully nude, on the operating table. His hand shot down, clamped on his groin. Overwhelming relief flooded him.
Still there.
“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he breathed.
A door opened. The stout nurse who had given him the sedative waltzed inside. “Well now, how is our good boy doing? You’re lucky your mistress has a soft heart and changed her mind. Now it’s time to come out of that sedative. Awake yet, sweet boy?”
Derek gave a chilling smile and swung off the table. “Yes honey,” he drawled. “Our good boy is very much awake.”
She ran out of the room, screaming. He grinned.
Derek waved his hand, transporting out of the room in an invisible cloud. Back to the condo.
Now for the main part of the plan. Cinderella. Judging from what she said, she required a delicate courting and romancing before surrendering to him. He planned to fully be her prince charming. And when the right moment came, he knew exactly where her capitulation would take place.
In his bed.
Chapter Five
Her day passed with listless fretting. The people at the animal clinic swore Max had been there, but for the odd ravings of the nurse who insisted she’d seen a naked man instead of a sleepy German Shepherd. But he’d vanished.
When she returned home, she showered and just as she finished dressing, her doorbell rang. When she opened the door, her heart gave a happy little jump.
Derek MacKenzie parked a lean hip against the doorjamb, giving her that sexy little crooked grin. She stared with pleasure. Faded blue jeans molded to impressively muscled long legs. He wore a plaid shirt, rolled up at the sleeves to display tanned forearms sporting a wealth of dark hair.
“Hi.” He grinned. “I had the devil of a time trying to find you. I need your services. I hear you’re the best cure for sick electricity. I have a very ill outlet in need of attention.”
She arched her brows, delighted at the slow, deep drawl of his voice. Gosh, she could melt like pure chocolate in his mouth if he just kept talking.
And his kiss at the hot tub…his lips moving slowly over hers…
His cock in her hands.
Remembering the awful experience of Jack from last night, her heart dropped. Of course, this was why Derek was hitting on her. He cared only about himself, not her.
Derek wasn’t interested in her, just her body. Now he probably used the electrical problem as an excuse to get her alone in his apartment.
Get her to play with his equipment, so to speak.
Deep disappointment filled her. She wanted a man to teach her passion, not use her as a means to pleasure himself. As much as she liked Derek, it was best to get rid of him. Right now. A hollow feeling tightened her chest.
“Um, Derek, yesterday by the spa… I’m really not that kind of girl—I’ve never done anything like that before and if you’re thinking that I am… Maybe you’d better find an electrician in the Yellow Pages.”
She stepped back, starting to close the door.
His hand caught the door’s edge, kept it open.
“Hey, listen to me,” he said softly. “I owe you an apology.”
From beneath her lashes, she glanced up. He looked sincere.
“I grabbed you like a stick shift…” she began.
“And I tried to cop a feel instead of just putting lotion on your shoulders as I told you. I should never have done that. It would have been the gentlemanly thing to do. So, if you’ll forgive me, let’s start over. Okay?”
Hmmm. Perhaps he was telling the truth. Or leading her on.
Derek looked her straight in the eye. “Look Cyn, I really do need an electrician. But let’s be honest here. I like you. A lot. And I’d like to take time to get to know you better, if you’re willing. So let’s see where it goes from there.”
Then he grinned, a goofy little half grin. “So, fair maiden, can you rescue a poor, helpless prince who doesn’t know the first thing about wiring?”
“I don’t know.” Cyn pretended to consider. “I don’t make house calls. Even for a handsome prince.”
“Please?” He gave her an adorable, pleading look. “This handsome prince will even cook you dinner and you won’t have to lift a finger. I have a killer lasagna in the oven.”
She laughed. “I’ll get my bag.”
The outlet turned out to be a broken receptacle in his book-lined living room. It looked like the wires had melted. While she hummed softly and fixed it, he busied himself in the kitchen. When she finished, Cyn drifted into the large pine-paneled kitchen, a little enchanted to see him looking so domesticated. His large hands draped in plaid mitts pulled a glass casserole dish from the oven. Steam misted the air, filling it with the delicious smell of tomato sauce and baked mozzarella.
“A meal fit for a king, not a prince.” He winked at her again as he placed it on the stovetop.
“You really can cook,” she said, delighted.
He gave her a sheepish grin. “Not really. Mommy does.”
She stared. A momma’s boy? Oh gosh, not another wussy guy…
Then he added, with a little grin. “Mommy Mia. It’s an Italian restaurant on Federal Highway. Great pizza, too.”
Cyn smiled, a little disappointed. Her prince should cook, she thought. As well as clean.
They laughed over glasses of red wine and Mommy Mia’s excellent lasagna. Derek was in charge of overseeing publishing fictional stories for a “very large firm.” He declined telling her which one, modestly brushing aside her inquiry, saying he didn’t want to boast. His dark chocolate eyes lit with boyish enthusiasm as he discussed the joy of a new author who realized her dream of getting her first novel published.
“Do you ever read non-fiction?” she asked.
He gave a lazy stretch, pulling the fabric of his shirt over his hard chest. She watched in fascination, filled with a distinct longing to unbutton his shirt and slide her hands over that rich peppering of dark hair, feel its springy crispness against her exploring fingers…
“No, never. No reason to read those books.”
“You should try it. Maybe it’s time for a change.”
“I don’t like change.” He swirled the ruby liquid in the crystal wineglass.
“Try a biography. How about one on Prince Charles? That way you can study on how to turn into a real prince,” she teased.
A shadow crossed his face. “No amount of reading could turn me into what I am not.”
“My prince should read non-fiction as well as fairy tales,” she joked, feeling the sudden tension in the room flare.
His expression suddenly tightened. Derek gave her a look that scared her a little in its dark intensity. “Don’t say that,” he said quietly. “I could be the worst man in the world for you. In any world.”
“You are nice. You could be a prince, considering all the weirdos out there on the dating scene.”
His gaze over the rim of his glass turned speculative. “And you’re very sweet and innocent. You could end up getting hurt.”
“The prince of my dreams would never hurt me,” she teased, troubled by his dark expression.
Then he smiled, erasing the look. Derek set his glass down, crossed his arms and leaned on the table. “So what would the prince of your dreams do? If he could grant you one wish, what would it be?”
“If I had one wish?”
She felt an unexpected tightness in her throat. Her whole fairy tale, she kept playing the good girl, cleaning and waiting and hoping she’d find love at the end. Then when she finally did meet the prince, he turned out to be fruiter than the pumpkin transporting her to the ball.
Her life felt one-dimensional. She wanted more. She needed more. But deep inside, she longed for the real fairy tale to come true. Just a change in casting.
His deep voice rubbed over her like a dark promise. “Close your eyes and wish, Cyn. Tell me what you wish for.”
Her eyes closed. She smiled, drawn into the fantasy. “I wish to dance at the ball of my imagination. The ballroom would be the beach. There would be no one present but my true prince and me. My dress would be woven from spun silver moonlight. Our music would be the rush of the ocean waves. The floor beneath my feet would be sand squishing between our toes, and the crystal chandelier overhead would be the billions of twinkling stars. And we’d dance in each other’s arms and he’d make me feel like life were a fairy tale come true.”
Her eyes flew open to regard him watching her intently. Then he gave her a crooked grin. “No glass slipper?”
A nagging impulse filled her at the mention of a glass slipper. She dismissed it and gave a light laugh to cover her discomfort. “I’m not into footwear. Not even designer shoes.”
He gave her a thoughtful look. “What if you discovered real life weren’t a fairy tale? And the handsome prince turned into a toad instead of vice versa?”
Her heart gave a sudden lurch. His words almost sounded like a warning. But she couldn’t envision her prince turning into a toad. She was determined to make the fairy tale come true. It must. Because she deserved a happy ending.
“Are you hinting you’ll turn into a frog if I kiss you?” she asked archly.
He winked at her. “Ribbit, ribbit.”
“Well, frogs like the water and so do I, so we’d still have something in common.” Cyn drank some more wine, feeling daring. “We’d both like getting wet.”
Derek’s grin slipped. He stared at her with sudden hunger, as if she were the main course. He stood and began clearing the table. When she offered to help, he waved her offer aside. She watched him wash dishes, delighted to see someone else handle housework. Then he dried his hands on a plaid towel.
“How about a real dinner Friday night? I know a wonderful restaurant on the ocean. Quiet and excellent shellfish.”
Cyn’s heart raced. “Sure.” She pushed back from the table. “Early morning tomorrow. I’d best leave now.”
He insisted on walking her to her apartment. His courtly, old-fashioned manners charmed her. At her door, he turned to her, his look very intent. Her pulse beat faster. He was going to kiss her.
He did. His kiss was gentle at first and then he coaxed her to engage him, his silken tongue thrusting in and out of her mouth, teasing her. Derek playfully nipped her bottom lip. She molded herself into him, moaning as he intensified the pressure, his hands splaying over her bottom. She felt a hard, blunt pressure against her belly and realized with a thrill it was the very thing she’d held in her hands.
His cock. Hard as a steel pipe.
She did this. She excited him.
Derek eased away with a crooked grin. He touched her kiss-swollen mouth.
“Good night, fair maiden. Thank you for fixing my outlet.”
She bid him good night and closed her door with a dreamy sigh. Wow. The man was a gentleman and a prince. Sweet anticipation poured through her. She could hardly wait for the weekend.
Chapter Six
As promised, Derek took her to a quiet but expensive restaurant on the water. They laughed and talked over plates of steamed clams and watched the ocean rush upon the sand. After, they walked on the beach, talking like old friends. They both adored discussing books. Cyn argued playfully over the role of feminist women’s fiction and how it could have revolutionized the women’s movement two decades previously. He countered that the feminist movement was in its right time and place.
“Put it in a different time period and it’s like a misshelved book. Everything in its proper place,” he’d said.
Like a gentleman, he’d asked permission to kiss her. She granted it. His kiss had been warm and brief and promising of erotic heat.
They spent Saturday fishing on a nifty little cruiser Derek had rented for the day. When she caught her first fish, she squealed with delight and he grinned, helping her reel it in.
Dinner that night at a noisy steak house was equally absorbing. She found herself drawn to his dry wit, and more than a little determined to crack through that tight reserve. Cyn enjoyed making him laugh. He had a self-deprecating sense of humor and a surprisingly good knowledge of ancient Scotland and weaponry that kept her enthralled.
After dinner, they went dancing at a local club. For such a big man, he moved with a powerful grace. When they played a slow song, his embrace was tight and assured and she melted into his arms. Other women swung their heads to stare at him, their gazes sultry and wanting.
The man possessed a commanding masculinity that her newly awoken female instincts told her was purely sexual. Cyn lifted her head from his broad shoulder and warned them off with her eyes. Derek pulled her closer and whispered into her ear, “You’re the only one I want, fair Cyn.”
She felt like a princess in a dream.
After, he escorted her to the door, cupping her head for a kiss that was deep and breathtaking. Cyn’s heart pounded so hard she knew he could hear. Her loins felt heavy and aching. A delicious tightness tensed her nipples as she pressed against him. When he pulled away, she didn’t want him to leave. Never had she felt this way, all achy and tingling, as if she wanted to crawl inside him and lick him all up.
A hot blush covered her cheeks at the thought. But she could not ignore the overwhelming demands her body was making.
She wanted him inside her. His cock, hard and thick, driving into her. Just as the storybook should have promised.
“Come inside for a drink. We can play a game my friend Sara raves about. It’s not that late,” she cajoled.
An amused look came over him as Derek consulted the gold Rolex on his wrist. He tapped at the dial. Two a.m.
“Come on, just one game.”
“You don’t want to play games with me, Cyn.” His deep voice carried a vague hint of warning.
“You’re afraid of being bested by a woman,” she challenged with a teasing smile. “You’d like this one. It’s called Indian wrestling. Sara played it with a Seminole she dated.”
His hooded gaze widened into a sudden heated look. “Wrestling?”
“You lie next to each other, line up your hips and raise your inside leg and then on the count of three, link your legs together and try to flip the other person over.”
“It doesn’t seem quite fair to you. I’m much bigger and stronger.”
She bristled a little at his arrogant tone. “It’s a game of quickness as well as strength. And I’m very, very agile. Especially with my legs.”
“I imagine you are,” he murmured, studying her thighs.
He gave her a slow smile. “Very well. But if I win, I choose the prize.”
Her chin lifted in a daring taunt. “Which is?”
His hungry gaze caressed her skin like a lingering touch. “You. Naked under me.”
Breath caught in her throat. She stared, a shiver of uncontrollable desire racing along her spine.
Derek touched her cheek, very gently. “Only if you want to and you’re ready. It’s up to you, Cyn.”
Then the same cocky half-grin quirked his mouth. “Of course, if you don’t think you can beat me…”
The words tumbled out of her mouth before she could snatch them back. “It’s a deal, then.”
An odd gleam lit his dark eyes. Derek smiled slowly. “I think you will find yourself the winner, no matter what the outcome is, dear Cyn,” he said softly.
They lay on her expansive living room floor, his narrow hip pressed against her rounded one. She sensed she was tossing gasoline on a smoldering fire. Cyn didn’t care. The images of the cold, gray hearth, the burnt ashes, taunted her. She wanted fire. Heat.
Derek’s trouser-clad thigh, roped with thick muscle, rested against hers. He turned his head, regarded her with a smile playing about his full mouth.
