Page 11 of One Night with Cinderella

He exited.

And, of course, he looked handsome in a lightweight tan suit that was perfectly tailored to his frame.

“Thank you, Monica,” he said, his tone indicating nothing more than the cordiality one would give a stranger. “Have a good day.”

“You, as well, Mr. Cress,” she said, matching his politeness with a nod.

She made the mistake of looking up to find his grayish-blue eyes resting on her.

Their gazes locked.

She felt drawn to him and felt the now-familiar hum that gave voice to their chemistry. She knew he felt it, as well. Several times over the last few weeks, she had looked up to find his gaze just shifting away from her.

Setting a trap, whether he meant to do so or not. Fueling her longing.

Monica forced herself to look away.

Moments later, the sound of his Italian leather shoes tapping against the hardwood floors as he walked away was a relief to her senses. Rubbing her hands against the front of her black uniform pants, she walked over to the glass wall and looked down at the backyard. She squinted and leaned in to better see Lucas walking away from Jillian, who stood by the garden of fresh herbs in her white chef’s coat.

Was the youngest Cress brother Jillian’s secret lover, who wrote the note?

The taste of you still lingers on my tongue.

She looked on as Jillian watched Lucas’s retreat, shook her head and bent her frame to pick herbs to place in the basket at her feet. Bitten by curiosity she knew she should resist, Monica rushed across the wide den to the stairwell, where her feet ate up the steps like she was trying to win a race. Reaching the first floor, she paused upon seeing Gabe and Lucas reaching the front door and didn’t move until they exited.

Monica had just reached the dining room at the rear of the first floor when Jillian entered with her basket on her arm. Monica eyed the tall and slender bronzed beauty with her auburn curly hair pulled up into a topknot. The chef’s tortoiseshell spectacles didn’t hide the long and thick lashes framing her round brown eyes. Her cheekbones were high and her chin narrow, giving her face a heart shape that brought emphasis to her full pouty mouth, which was painted crimson.

Jillian was pretty. And smart. And talented.

Just which of the Cress men had found it hard to ignore her appeal?

“Good morning, Chef Jillian,” Monica said with a warm smile. “Busy?”

Jillian chuckled. “Good morning. And yes. Always,” she said. “Lucas just threw a last-minute, picnic-lunch request at me for him and a date.”

Well, that answers that.

“But what can I do for you?” the chef asked as she moved around the long dining room table for ten, topped with charcoal leather and surrounded by steel blue suede armless chairs.

“N-nothing,” Monica stumbled. “Just taking a little break and thought I’d check on you.”

Jillian gave her a polite smile. “I’ll be honest, Monica, I’m too swamped for much girl talk today,” she said with another a look of regret before swiftly walking into the kitchen to set the basket on the island.

“No problem. Another day,” Monica said, already turning toward the elevator to ride back up to the fourth floor.

Lucas wouldn’t make a lunch date and then ask his secret lover to prepare the food? Would he?

“Hmm,” she said aloud.

Monica thought of the youngest Cress brother’s steady merry-go-round of beauties since he’d lost fifty pounds and gone from chubby to chiseled in the last year. In fact, she remembered seeing him sneak one woman out of the house early one morning and catching him sneaking another in later that night.

He had only wiggled his eyes in mirth at her wide-eyed shocked expression as he hurried his “date” into his suite.

With him anything was possible.

Back in Gabe’s suite, she was able to finish making his bed with fresh linens and tidy the sitting area and walk-in closet only by forcing herself to focus, pinching her wrists anytime her mind became occupied by naughty thoughts of the man with the name of an angel.

Monica rolled her cleaning caddie behind her to take the elevator to the third level, entirely devoted to Phillip Sr. and Nicolette. To her, it was the most beautifully luxurious space of the entire town house. As always, she paused in the doorway and took in the pure elegance of the massive bedroom, sitting room and office space, all flowing seamlessly from one room to the next, with elaborately carved wooden doors that blocked the views of the en suite bathroom and walk-in closets. The decor, flowers and plants, elaborate accessories, and the light streaming through the glass wall made for a stunning look.

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