Cinderella and the Playboy by Lois Faye Dyer Read Free Book Online Page A

laughed and winked at Jennifer. “Duty and my kitchen calls but we’ll have to talk later, Jennifer, and you can tell me how you’ve managed to make my friend so possessive.”
    “I’m just protecting her from the wolves,” Chance drawled.
    “Of course,” Jordan said blandly. “Enjoy the evening, my friend.”
    Jennifer didn’t miss the enigmatic look he gave Chance before he disappeared into the crowd.
    “Where did you meet him?” she asked Chance, curious about the chef.
    “His sister was a patient of mine,” he told her. “He threw a party when the baby was born and after everyone else went home, we killed a fifth of Scotch toasting his new niece. We’ve been friends ever since.”
    She sipped her champagne, her gaze drifting over the glittering gathering before stopping on a couple. The man wore a tux and the woman’s gown was a formfitting sapphire blue, her hair a long, wavy mane that gleamed like silk beneath the chandelier’s light. The two had eyes only for each other—until the man glanced up, grinned and waved.
    “There’s Ted,” Chance commented, lifting his champagne glass in salute.
    “Who’s the woman with him?” Jennifer asked.
    “His wife,” Chance replied. “And I’m damned grateful Sara Beth said yes when he proposed. I work with him and he’s been a pain in the…well, let’s just say he was in a bad mood until he worked things out with her.”
    “They look very much in love,” Jennifer said softly, her gaze on the two as the man brushed the woman’s long wavy hair over her shoulder and smiled down at her.
    “They are.” Chance emptied his champagne flute and caught her hand. “Let’s dance.” He depositedtheir glasses. “I’m glad to know I was right,” he said as they circled the room.
    “About what?” she asked, a tiny frown drawing her brows into a vee.
    “The food,” he replied easily as he guided her out through open French doors and onto the wide balcony where other guests danced beneath the night sky. “Unless you were lying to Jordan. You did enjoy dinner?”
    Her brow smoothed and a smile curved her mouth, lighting her eyes. “Oh, yes. The lobster was wonderful and the chocolate mousse was perfect.”
    “I told you the food would be worth the cost of the ticket,” he said with satisfaction, executing a series of smooth, sweeping turns to move them down the length of the wide stone balcony. “Jordan doesn’t serve tiny slivers of artsy-looking food. His food is elegant without being precious—you know, no tiny portions that leave a guy so hungry that he has to stop for a burger on his way home.”
    Jennifer looked up at him, a smile curving her lips. “It sounds suspiciously as if you’ve been forced to sit through dinners filled with…maybe, cucumber sandwiches and tea?”
    He laughed. “Not since my grandmother made me eat them when I was a kid. Since then, though,I’ve had to attend dinners where we were served rubbery chicken or tiny plates with three or four artfully arranged celery and radish slices.” He shuddered. “Makes me hungry just to think of it.”
    “I’m guessing it takes more than celery and radishes to fuel a guy your size,” she joked.
    “You guess right,” he said with a nod. “Lots more. I have a big appetite.” He winked at her.
    She studied him, contemplating an answer to what was clearly an invitation.
    His lips brushed her ear. “Aren’t you wondering what other appetites I have?” he teased, lazy amusement underlaid with darker, more volatile emotions.
    She tilted her head and his mouth brushed over her cheek, with scant inches separating his lips from hers. “I was considering asking,” she said quietly. “But decided I should give the subject more thought before asking questions that might provoke dangerous answers.”
    “I’d be happy to answer any questions, Jennifer,” he told her. “Dangerous or not.” Heat flared in his dark, heavy-lidded gaze.
    “I’ve never been a woman who courts