Page 5 of The Cinderella Secret
“Um? Get in the bed?”
“Do you know how long it takes to get in and out of this dress?”
“So leave it on!”
“I think she’d notice the giant lump under the covers!”
Aiden grimaced and looked around the room. No ideas were springing out to meet him. Outside the bungalow they could hear Slutty Cleopatra getting closer.
“Kiss me,” ordered Cinderella.
“What?”
“She’ll look in and she’ll just think we’re… slow or whatever.”
“That works,” agreed Aiden and grabbed her around the waist. “Sorry,” he said, feeling like a kiss between strangers was a little bit awkward and some apology ought to be offered.
“Whatever,” she said, and she flung her arms around his neck. He liked her practicality.
Aiden was good looking enough and rich enough that he had kissed what he considered to be a pretty good number of girls. And kissing was not, nor did he think it ever would be, earth-shattering, fire-work inducing or magical. He suspected that the people claimed that were lying to themselves, or someone else, to justify the fact that kissing was a very pleasant pre-game warm up to the main event—sex.
He angled and went in for a pleasantly chaste kiss, but kissing Cinderella was different. Cinderella made his head go hot and his fingers cold. Cinderella tasted like chocolate and smelled like spices. Her lips parted and he leaned in further, their tongues meeting hesitantly and then more urgently. Cinderella made the blood pound in his ears with a roar like the sea. Cinderella made him forget that this was just a show. He kissed her like he meant it, and she responded in kind. Somewhere he registered that a door opened and closed, but ignored it. They finally broke apart and Aiden stood, staring down at her, his arms still around her waist, hers around his neck. Her brown eyes were wide behind her mask.
He cleared his throat. “Um. Right.” He forced his hands to let go of her. “Right. I was... Uh...”
Cinderella had turned him into an idiot.
“You were going to the fighter’s area,” she said, sounding breathless.
“Right,” he said, nodding. “Right. OK.” He tried to pull himself together. “You know how to make the bet?” One hand went to her hip and her chin dipped down. “Right,” he said again, this time with a grin. “You got this.”
3
Ella – The Chance
Ella could feel the fistful of cash in her bra making an awkward lump, but she was too afraid to be seen holding it in her hands. It had been hard enough to sneak over to the betting pool without her mother noticing. She was allowed to make small bets. Sabine approved when Ella took part in the entertainment, but she would never approve how much money Ella was now holding.
In the empty pool, Number Nine dodged out of the way of Dulce’s meaty paw and dove in for a front kick and a flurry of punches. He was in and out quick as a bird, and Dulce roared in rage. She’d tried to get close to Number Nine before the fight had started. She had nearly five thousand dollars shoved down her dress, and for this fight, she’d only placed a token bet to make it look like she was sticking to her pattern. He didn’t need to fight, but when she’d tried to signal him, he only grinned and winked at her.
Dulce swung again and this time connected with a sickening thump to Number Nine’s ribs. She was as close to the edge of the pool as she could get, which wasn’t actually that close. Being the daughter of the host got her privileges, but not front row. She was forced to peer between the wide shoulders of the fight organizer and his bodyguard, who was clearly an ex-fighter with a historically pummeled face.
Number Nine launched himself off the wall of the pool and landed a flurry of blows and then took Dulce down to the cement floor, splashing in the residual pool of water at the deep end. She heard the organizer’s sharp intake of breath and he turned to his bodyguard with a furious expression. She heard him hiss something in Spanish and only understood the words after the other man began to move.
Not supposed to win.
The fight organizer’s bodyguard was headed for the ladder into the pool. It had been blocked off as the fighter’s entrance. It would have the clearest view of the fight.
Do something.
She realized, as the man reached into his jacket, whatsomethinghe was planning on doing. She began to bully her way through the crowd, pursuing the bodyguard. She stomped on three more feet and shoved a man. There was a wave of drunken, stumbling reactions to her push and someone fell into the pool. She saw the bodyguard take out an enormous pistol.
“Gun!” she screamed. The crowd began to churn away from the pool just as she finally arrived at the bodyguard. Raising her skirt, she kicked out and sent him flying over the edge. The gun went off with a shocking bang. There was a spark and an explosion as the bullet struck a generator near the pool house. With a sharp crackle, the generator sparked and burst into flames.
The crowd began to run, and Ella found herself carried with it, unable to turn or find her way out of the mass of running people. In front of her, a woman tripped and went down, and Ella leaped to avoid her. The crowd was running on instinct, headed for cars parked along the desert road behind the estate. As tires began to screech out onto the pavement and the crowd thinned, Ella was finally able to stop running. She stopped and turned, looking for Number Nine.
Instead, she saw her mother. Sabine was screaming in fury at everyone, but mostly at Fredrico. Illuminated by the now engulfed pool house, she looked like the devil incarnate.
Closer to the house, she saw Number Nine. He was twisting this way and that as if looking for her. She held up one hand, and by some miracle, he saw her. She saw him look from her to her mother.
