Cinderella For A Night. Susan Mallery

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      “Excuse me, darling,” David said, lightly kissing his wife’s cheek. “I’ll be right with you.”

      Lisa Steele offered her brother-in-law a cold smile. “Don’t keep him for too long, Jonathan. I’m lost without him.”

      “I’m sure that’s true,” Jonathan said smoothly, wondering how Lisa and her husband would maintain their marriage when they were in prison.

      Jonathan took David’s arm and led him to a private alcove in the large ballroom. The two men were both over six feet, each with a strong build. Their gazes locked.

      “The game’s up,” Jonathan said bluntly. “I’ve known about your embezzling for months, but now I have proof. Either put the money back or I’ll inform the authorities in the morning.”

      David smiled slowly. “You don’t have proof. You don’t have anything. This is a bluff.”

      Jonathan’s gaze narrowed. “I never bluff. You know that. It would give me great pleasure to see you arrested for this, David. Don’t push me.”

      Jonathan didn’t know why he was giving his brother time. He should call in the police right now. But he knew he wouldn’t.

      David raised his dark eyebrows. “You think you have it all planned out, big brother, but you don’t. This time I’m going to win. You see, Lisa and I are going away. You won’t be able to find us. In a very short period of time, you’ll have an unfortunate but fatal accident. Lisa and I can return as the grieving family. You’ll be gone and we’ll have everything.” He waved his hand like a wand. “Presto—I win.”

      Coldness filled Jonathan’s chest. He hadn’t known it could get any worse between himself and his brother. He’d thought the truly low point of their relationship had been when their father had left David the family home. It had been the only thing Jonathan had ever wanted, but the elder Steele had intended to send a message from the grave. David had waited just long enough for the title to clear in his name, then he’d offered it to Jonathan at twice its value.

      The house had been Jonathan’s only link with his past. He would have paid more to take possession and he’d given his brother the money.

      Now David was threatening to have him killed. He almost didn’t believe they were having this conversation. “Why?” he asked.

      “Why am I stealing or why do I want you eliminated?”

      Jonathan shrugged. “Either. Both.”

      “I would think the reason I want you gone is obvious. Father left you the firm, but I’m the heir when you’re dead. Now I’ll take it from you.”

      Jonathan didn’t doubt his brother’s desire to have what he, Jonathan, had built. David had always been greedy. “If you’re planning to kill me, why embezzle?”

      David leaned close and lowered his voice to a whisper. Unholy pleasure glinted in his eyes. “Because I can. Because it hurts you. I’ll miss causing you pain when you’re dead. It’s my favorite hobby. Oh, well. I’ll find another.”

      With that, David slapped him on the back and walked away. Jonathan watched him go. From the moment David had been born thirty years ago, he’d been the golden boy of the family. Jonathan had never understood why. David had been given every opportunity, but he’d wasted them all. He took what he wanted and when he was tired of it, he destroyed it.

      Jonathan thought about his brother’s threat to his life. He didn’t doubt that David had a plan. And just as soon as Jonathan left the party, he would call the detective he’d been working with and pass along the information. No doubt he would be told to hire a bodyguard or lie low for a few days.

      He waited for a sense of outrage or anger, but he was tired of it all. There wasn’t anything left for him to feel. He’d been trying to understand his brother for too long, just as he’d been trying to get their father’s attention. It didn’t matter that Jonathan had taken a failing division of Steele Enterprises and had turned it into a multibillion-dollar success. His father had barely noticed.

      Years before, Jonathan had decided that families were an invention of the devil and nothing had happened since to change his mind. He didn’t want to have to put his only living relative in prison, but David wasn’t going to give him a choice.

      He swore and stepped out of the alcove. The laughter and loud conversation in the room seemed to echo in his head. He decided it was time to go home. If David really planned to kill him, he didn’t want his last night to be spent here.

      He turned to leave, only to collide into a cloud of aqua silk and tulle. A young woman took a step back, then looked at him and smiled.

      “You know, I had an entire conversation with myself on the way over here in which I swore I was not going to spill wine on anyone.” She looked down at the puddle on the floor, then returned her attention to his jacket. “Did I get you or miss you?”

      He was sure he’d seen every debutante in the county and most of those in the state. He had a great memory for faces and knew instantly he hadn’t met this young woman before.

      She was of average height, with pale skin and hazel-green eyes. She wore her blond hair up in a simple style, anchored by a ridiculous tiara. There was an air of innocence about her. If this had been another time and place, he would have sworn she was a vicar’s daughter in from the country for the first time in her life.

      He touched the hem of his jacket. It was dry. “You missed me.”

      She pressed a hand to her chest. “Thank goodness. I would have hated to soak you.” She waved her now-empty glass. “At least it was white wine. That doesn’t stain, does it?” She bit her lower lip and blushed slightly. “I’m babbling. It’s horrible, but you make me nervous. I mean, you’re you and I’m not. Well, I mean of course I’m not you. And spilling, it’s just so high school. Don’t you hate that?”

      She paused for breath. “You’re not in costume.”

      He glanced down at his dark tuxedo. “I know.” His gaze returned to her. He took in the ball gown, the tiara, the wonder in her eyes. “You must be Cinderella.”

      “Almost. Cynthia.” She bit her lower lip again. “Please don’t call me Cindy. It would be too embarrassing.” She gave him a shy smile. “And you’re Jonathan Steele. I recognize you from your pictures in the newspaper. You look better in color than in black and white.”

      “How reassuring.”

      She glanced around, then back at him. “People stare at you. Have you noticed? I can’t decide if it’s because you’re good-looking or if it’s the money-power thing. Do you know which it is? Or is it both?”

      The complete lack of guile in her eyes told him that her question was genuine, not an attempt at flattery.

      “Maybe it’s you,” he told her.

      She waved her hand in a gesture of dismissal. “Oh, please. There’s a laugh. You’re the king of the ball.”

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