Cinderella For A Night

makeup. She looked young and impossibly out of her league, yet she didn’t act intimidated or afraid. Instead she moved closer to him.

“Colton is family,” she said. “Your family. From what I can tell, he’s the only family you have left. But do you respect that or act like it matters? No. You ignore him.”

“He’s a baby. We’re hardly going to have a meaningful discussion about world peace.”

“Agreed. But that’s no reason not to develop a relationship with him.”

He waved a hand at her. “I’m not interested in this.”

“So what?” She moved closer and placed her hands on her hips. “We all have to do things that might not be our first choice. It’s called being an adult and dealing with our responsibilities. Right now Colton is one of your responsibilities. This isn’t about business or some annoying social obligation. We’re discussing the life of a child. How dare you dismiss the importance of that?”

Anger flared in her hazel-green eyes. Her breath came in sharp gasps as if she hung onto her control by a thread.

“Quit being so damn selfish,” she said, poking his chest with her finger. “Yes, you had a lousy relationship with your own father. Yes, your brother was the favorite. So what? Get over it. You have a wonderful life now. One of your own making. You have many accomplishments that have brought you prestige and great wealth. But none of those matter. If you don’t get your act together you’re going to do to Colton exactly what your father did to you.”

Her words slammed into him, ripping through his facade of calm civility and anchoring in still-open wounds. He didn’t want to be like his father.

But that wasn’t what he was doing, he told himself. It couldn’t be. He might not care about Colton, but he didn’t actively dislike the child. His feelings were more neutral. He made sure that Colton had everything he could need.

As his father had done with him, a small voice whispered in his head.

Cynthia seemed to sense the battle being waged within him. But rather than backing off, she moved in for the kill. “What kind of legacy are you going to leave, Jonathan Steele? A hundred years from now you’ll be dead. Will anyone at Steele Enterprises remember the man you were? I don’t think so. But Colton’s children will know. What do you want your nephew to say about you? That you were a great man, stern and honest, yet always available and filled with a giving heart? Or that you were a distant relative who gave him up to the hired help to raise?”

Her words rang in the silence. He tried to think of something to say to dispute them, but what was there? Everything she said was true.

He took a step back, then turned away. He didn’t want to be like his father, but he wasn’t sure he could change.

“You’re better than this,” she said softly. “This isn’t who you are.”

He gave a sharp laugh. “It’s exactly who I am. I warned you.”

“Then it’s time to change and be someone else.”

Jonathan did his best to ignore everything Cynthia had told him. He and his father had little in common-he wasn’t treating Colton the same way he’d been treated. But there was too much truth for him to avoid it. He had many flaws, but self-delusion wasn’t one of them.

In between meetings and while in the car over the next three days, he replayed parts of their conversation. What would Colton think about him as he grew up? Jonathan knew that he would never forget or forgive his own father’s inattention, the way the elder Steele had made Jonathan feel like an interloper in his own home. He was going to have to change the present or he was destined to repeat the past. But how?

With no obvious answer to the question, he made his way from the garage to the house. He hadn’t seen Cynthia or Colton since Monday, three days ago. But tonight he’d come home earlier than usual with the thought that he might talk to her. Not that he knew what he was going to say.

He opened the front door and was immediately assaulted by loud music. Not rock, but something with the distinct rhythm of a waltz. In front of him Lucinda moved down the stairs.

“The baby, he sleeps through all of this,” she said loudly as she approached and took his briefcase. “It’s Miss Cynthia. She’s teaching her sister how to dance.” A maternal smile softened Lucinda’s face. “There is a school dance this weekend. Something about ballroom dancing.” She jerked her head toward the living room. “They’re in there.”

Jonathan loosened his tie. He walked into the living room and stood just inside the doorway. The sofas and occasional tables had been pushed up against the wall, while the rug covering the hardwood floors had been rolled out of the way.

Cynthia and Jenny stood in the center of the open space, facing each other. As he watched, Cynthia assumed the position of the man and put her hand on her sister’s waist. They were both in jeans and sweatshirts, but Jenny had slipped on a pair of high heels. Now she glanced down at her shoes.

“I hate these,” she complained. “I keep feeling like I’m going to tip over.”

“I know, but you’re wearing them with your dress so you need to get used to them.”

Cynthia wore athletic shoes, so she was only a couple of inches taller than her sister. Both females had pulled their hair back into ponytails. Viewed from the side, he could see the similarities in their profiles and posture. Jenny was still a young girl but in time she would be as lovely as her sister.

“Remember,” Cynthia was saying. “Listen to the music. A waltz has a very specific beat. If you can begin to feel it as well as hear it, you’ll find it easier to dance. One, two, three, one, two, three.”

As she spoke, music from a portable CD player blared into the room. It covered the sound of Jonathan’s steps and he was able to step farther into the room, then lean up against the wall.

The sisters moved well together. Jenny hesitated a few times, but obviously had the general idea down. It was just a matter of practice. Cynthia patiently led her through the movements again and again.

He studied the woman who had invaded his life and demanded much from him. Not for herself but for a baby she’d known only a couple of weeks. What would she be like if she were defending an offspring of her own?

He knew instinctively that Cynthia would protect her baby with a fierceness that rivaled any in nature. She would never abandon her child, walking away without a second glance. For the early and formative years of her life she’d been raised by a single mother who had faced incredible odds to keep her small family together. To Cynthia there was no greater bond than that of blood kin.

They couldn’t be more opposite. He still believed that families were nothing but pain and trouble. Look at what his own brother had done to him. Yet even knowing what she did about him, Cynthia still expected him to open his life and his heart to his nephew. She expected him to have the same giving nature as herself.

He wanted to dismiss her as foolish and innocent, but a part of him wondered if she might not be the stronger of the two of them. Didn’t her capacity to love and forgive mean that her emotional boundaries were greater?

For reasons that were not clear to him, she saw the best in him. She had unreasonable expectations of his nature and personality. Even when he tried to convince her that he wasn’t anything she imagined, she persisted in assuming the best. Her attitude was so different from any he’d ever experienced. She was a fool and yet in some small back corner of his being he was pleased and flattered by her opinion, however false and undeserved.

Now, as she danced with her sister, she caught sight of him. Instead of a welcoming smile, she gave him a tentative nod. Questions flickered in her eyes and there was a tremor at the corner of her mouth. He hated that he’d damaged her ability to believe in him. Which only went to show how perverse human nature could be. After working to convince her he was a bastard, now he was disappointed he’d finally gotten her to believe the truth. He hated that he missed her open and honest admiration, even if it was