Page 21 of One Night with Cinderella

And felt so warm. Especially his thumb resting against her sensitive inner wrist.

She broke the hold, choosing to focus on calling the police to get rid of the crowd outside. The Upper East Side address would speed up their arrival.

“Monica. Wait.”

“Yes, Mr. Cress?” she asked, turning to face him.

He bent down in front of his monogrammed Vuitton case to remove an envelope from the side pocket. “The Cress Family Foundation’s charity ball is next week. I’d like for you and a guest to attend. Please,” he stressed.

“I don’t think that would be appropriate—” she began but then remembered that in less than twenty-four hours she would be worth just as much as he was and she would no longer be his maid.

He eyed her.

“I’ll consider it,” she conceded, taking the thick and creamy envelope from him. “Thank you.”

With one last smile Monica turned from him to finish out her last day and make plans for her tomorrow.

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