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.”
“You’re in a tiara. You must be royalty as well.”
She grinned. “Sure. I’m the Princess of Nowhere.” She set her glass on a nearby tray then curtsied. “It’s a small kingdom on the edge of town. Perhaps you’ve heard of it?”
Jonathan had spent the past two months confirming that his only living relative had concocted a scheme to skim millions from his business. That same relative had just informed him that he had arranged for his murder. If David didn’t put the money back, which was unlikely, Jonathan was going to have to have him arrested. It had been a hell of day.
Yet despite that, he suddenly didn’t want to leave the ball. His house was a cold, empty place and the past echoed through the many rooms. Instead he found himself wanting to be with the mysterious Cynthia—perhaps the last innocent on the planet. He wanted to hear her views on things like the best flavors of ice cream and who else had she spilled drinks on that evening and did he really make her nervous.
The orchestra in the corner started a waltz. Jonathan bowed formally. “May I have this dance, Your Highness?”
Cynthia smiled and held out her arms. “Okay, but I have to warn you the kingdom didn’t have money for a dance instructor so your toes are in danger. Just don’t try anything wild and I’ll probably be able to stumble along.”
He drew her close, enjoying the feel of her curvy body against his hard, male planes. Up close her fake finery lost some of its glitter, but he found he didn’t mind. She was, he decided, a genuine person, and he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had the pleasure of dancing with one.
This wasn’t really happening, Cynthia thought as Jonathan swept her around the room. It was all she could do to hold back her squeals of delight. For the first time in her life, her dreams were coming true.
She’d been wishing and hoping that she might have a chance to speak with Jonathan Steele and thank him for all he’d unknowingly done for her. But now she was in his arms and dancing with him. Her heart pounded so hard in her chest, she thought she might be in danger of swooning.
“Tell me about life in your kingdom,” Jonathan said as they twirled past other couples in the rapidly spinning ballroom. “Is there a prince in your life?”
She wasn’t sure if he was teasing or not. “I’m not married, if that’s what you’re asking.”
A slow, male smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. He had a wonderful mouth, she thought dreamily as she inhaled