Cinderella and the Playboy Read Online Free PDF Page A

the apartment seemed too quiet with only the radio for company. The air in the room felt hushed and expectant, as if the place itself waswaiting. Jennifer swept the neat living room with a quick glance before walking into her bedroom to collect the satin wrap that matched her dress.
    Turning to leave, she caught a glimpse of her reflection in the long mirror mounted on the back of her bedroom door. Jennifer paused—the woman staring back at her seemed like a stranger. The scarlet gown fit as if custom-sewn for her alone. It had a square neckline, cut low across the swell of her breasts, with tiny cap sleeves and a bodice that hugged her narrow waist. The skirt was made up of yards of floating chiffon and lace and the toes of red, strappy high heels peeked from beneath the hem.
    She wore her few pieces of good jewelry—three narrow gold bangle bracelets inset with tiny diamonds and small diamond studs in the lobes of her ears. Around her neck she wore her silver locket with Annie’s picture. She knew it didn’t quite match, but she’d never taken it off. Yolanda had pinned her caramel-blond curls atop her head in a soft upsweep that left the line of her throat bare, but wisps curled down her neck at the back.
    The designer dress truly made her feel like Cinderella, waiting for the Prince to take her to the ball. The fanciful thought made her smile as she thought ruefully of her date’s playboy reputation.
    A knock sounded on the outer door and Jennifer froze. Butterflies fluttered in her stomach and she pressed the flat of her hand to her abdomen, drawing a deep breath and reaching for calmness. Then she quickly left the bedroom and crossed the living room where a cautious glance through the hall door’s peephole sent her heartbeat racing once again. She drew another deep breath, slowly exhaled and opened the door.
    Chance stood just outside in the hallway. He wore a classic black tuxedo, a white formal shirt fastened with onyx studs, a black bow tie and polished black dress shoes. She’d thought him handsome in casual jeans and leather jacket, but she realized helplessly that he was undeniably heart-stopping in formal wear. His gaze swept over her from head to toe and back again without the slightest attempt to conceal his interest.
    “Hello.” His deep voice drew out the word, the raspy growl loaded with undercurrents.
    “Hello.” Jennifer felt the brush of his gaze and desire curled, heating her skin, making it tingle with awareness.
    “Ready to go?” Chance asked. He hadn’t missed her reaction to his slow appraisal and the throb of arousal beat through his veins as he watched a faintflush move up her throat to tint her cheeks. She lowered her lashes, concealing her eyes.
    “I just need to collect my purse.” She left him to cross the room.
    He watched her walk away, his gaze intent on the gown’s long skirt. It swayed with each step, outlining the feminine curve of her hips and thighs with tantalizing briefness. The nape of her neck and the pale skin of her back to just above her narrow waist was bare, framed by crimson lace and a few loose curls. She disappeared through a doorway, momentarily releasing him from the spell that held him.
    His gaze skimmed the room. The apartment was as neat as the rest of the old, well-maintained building and Jennifer’s living space held a warmth that was missing in his professionally decorated town house. A blue and cream-colored afghan draped over one arm of a white-painted wood rocking chair that sat at right angles to an over-stuffed blue sofa. A framed poster of the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art hung on the wall above the sofa. At the far end of the room, a bookcase was stuffed with hardcovers and paperbacks, the overflow stacked in a bright pile at one end. Chance resisted the urge to walk closer and inspect the titles on the spines, curious to learn whatshe read. A television and DVD player took up the two shelves on a low cabinet against one wall and