‘I can relate to that,’ he murmured huskily.
‘Sorry?’
‘My own parents parted and divorced when I was sixteen. Obviously it isn’t quite the same, but the result was just as devastating,’ he bit out harshly.
‘Is that why you’re so driven?’
‘Maybe.’ Lucien scowled; he really had talked far too much about his personal life to this woman.
‘It was tough for me, after the accident, but I’ve managed okay,’ she added brightly. ‘Obviously not as okay as you, but even so... I worked for a couple of years to get my basic tuition fees together, so now I just work to pay the bills.’
He frowned. ‘There was no money after your parents died?’
Cyn smiled as she shook her head. ‘Not a lot, no. We lived in rented accommodation that was far too big for me once I was on my own,’ she dismissed without rancour. ‘I’ve almost finished my course now, anyway,’ she added briskly. ‘And then I can get myself a real job.’
It all sounded like another world to Lucien. ‘As what?’
She shrugged her bare shoulders. ‘My degree will be in English Literature, so maybe something in teaching or publishing.’
He frowned. ‘It so happens that one of those other Steele Something-or-Others is Steele Publishing, with offices in New York, London and Sydney.’
She smiled ruefully. ‘I haven’t finished my degree yet. Nor would I aim so high as a job at Steele Publishing once I have,’ she added with a frown.
Lucien found himself questioning the sincerity of her refusal. It wouldn’t be the first time a woman had downplayed the importance of his wealth in order to try and trap him into a relationship.
* * *
Thia had no idea why she had confided in Lucien Steele, of all people, about her parents’ death and her financial struggles since then. Maybe as a response to his admission of his own parents’ divorce?
She did know as she watched the expressions flitting across his for once readable face, noting impatience quickly followed by wariness, that he had obviously drawn his own conclusions—completely wrong ones!—about her reason for having done so!
She turned to look out of the window beside her, stung in spite of herself. ‘Just ask your driver to drop me off anywhere here,’ she instructed stiffly. ‘There are a couple of cheap hotels nearby.’
‘I have no intention of dropping you off anywhere!’ Lucien Steele rasped. ‘This is New York, Cyn,’ he added as she turned to protest. ‘You can’t just walk about the streets at night alone. Especially dressed like that.’
Thia felt the blush in her cheeks as she looked down at her revealing evening gown, acknowledging he was right. She would be leaving herself open to all sorts of trouble if she got out of the car looking like this. ‘Then you suggest somewhere,’ she prompted awkwardly.
‘We’ll be at Steele Heights in a couple of minutes, at which time I suggest you put aside any idea of false pride—’
‘There’s nothing false about my pride!’ Thia turned on him indignantly. ‘It’s been hard-won, I can assure you.’
‘It is false pride when you’re endangering yourself because of it,’ he insisted harshly. ‘Now, stop being so damned stubborn and just accept the help being offered to you.’
‘No.’
‘Don’t make me force you, Cyn.’
‘I’d like to see you try!’ She could feel the heat of her anger in her cheeks.
‘Would you?’ he challenged softly. ‘Is that what all this is about, Cyn? Do you enjoy it...get off on it...when a man bends you to his will, as Miller did earlier?’
‘How dare you—?’
‘Cyn—’
‘My name is Thia, damn it!’ Her eyes glittered hotly even as she grappled with the door handle beside her, only to find it was locked.
‘Tell Paul to stop the car and unlock this damned door. Now,’ she instructed through gritted teeth.
‘There’s no need for—’
‘Now, Lucien!’ Thia breathed deeply in her fury, not sure she had ever been this angry in her life before.
He sighed deeply. ‘Aren’t you being a little melodramatic?’
‘I’m being a lot melodramatic,’ she correctly hotly. ‘But then you were a lot insulting. I don’t— Ah, Paul.’ She had at last managed to find what she sincerely hoped was the button for the intercom.
‘Miss Hammond...?’ the driver answered uncertainly.
‘I would like you to stop the car right now, Paul, and unlock the back doors, please,’ she requested tightly.
There was a brief pause before he responded. ‘Mr Steele...?’
Thia looked across at Lucien challengingly, daring him to contradict her request. She was so furious with him and his insulting arrogance she was likely to resort to hitting him if he even attempted to do so.
He looked at her for several more minutes before answering his driver. ‘Stop the car as soon as it’s convenient, Paul. Miss Hammond has decided to leave us here,’ he added, and he turned to look out of the window beside him uninterestedly.
As if she were a petulant child, Thia acknowledged. As if he hadn’t just insulted her, accused her of—of— She didn’t even want to think about what he had accused her of!
She kept her face turned away from him for the short time it took Paul to find a place to safely park the limousine, her anger turning into heated tears. Tears she had no intention of allowing the cynical and insulting Lucien Steele the satisfaction of seeing fall.
‘Thank you,’ she muttered stiffly, once the car was parked and Paul had got out to open the door beside her. She kept her face averted as she stepped out onto the pavement before walking away, head held high, without so much as a backward glance.
‘Mr Steele...?’ Dex prompted beside him uncertainly.
Lucien had uncurled himself from the back of the car to stand on the pavement, his expression grim as he watched Cynthia Hammond stride determinedly along the crowded street in her revealing evening gown, seemingly unaware—or simply uncaring?—of the leering looks being directed at her by the majority of the men and the disapproving ones by the women.
‘Go,’ Lucien instructed the other man tightly; if Cyn—Thia—had so little concern for her own safety then someone else would have to have it for her.
A REALLY UNPLEASANT thing about waking up in a strange hotel room was the initial feeling of panic caused by not knowing exactly where you were. Even more unpleasant was noticing that the less-than-salubrious room still smelt of the previous occupant’s body odour and cigarette smoke.
But the worst thing—the very worst thing—was returning to that disgusting-smelling hotel bedroom after taking a lukewarm shower in the adjoining uncleaned bathroom and realising that you had no clothes to leave in other than the ankle-length blue evening gown you had worn the night before, along with a pair of minuscule blue panties and four-inch-heeled take-me-to-bed shoes.
All of which became all too apparent to Thia within minutes of her waking up in that awful hotel bedroom and taking that shower!
She had been too angry and upset the evening before—too furious with the arrogantly insulting Lucien Steele—to notice how faded and worn the furniture and décor in this hotel room was, how threadbare and discoloured the towel wrapped about her