Free The Firefighter's Cinderella by Dominique Burton Page B

stubbly cheeks, curly black hair and a T-shirt could be so beautiful first thing in the morning.
    The butler rushed in. “Miss Bennington, a C. J. Powell is here to see you.”
    â€œThank you, Stewart.”
    â€œHe hasn’t changed a bit over the years,” C.J. said in a low voice when the older man had left.
    â€œNo. He’s been the same since I was a child.”
    C.J.’s fingers smoothed the hair away from her face. “You’re gorgeous in the morning,” he said softly. “Are you aware of that?”
    She felt as if she was going to melt.
    â€œBy the way,” he announced, “I’m here ten minutes ahead of five guys from the station who are going to help you move to your new place.”
    She blinked. “What did you say?”
    â€œThat you’re gorgeous in the morning.”
    Tasha sat up. “No. I mean after that. Did you say that some guys from the station are coming?”
    â€œYes.” The grin let her know he loved catching her off guard.
    She started to move off the bed, but realized she wasn’t ready to let C.J. see her in her nightgown. “Could you leave the room so I can get dressed?”
    â€œSure.” His eyes traveled over her again before he handed her the coffee. “I’ll be waiting outside the door.”
    â€œUh, thank you.”
    He reached over to touch her cheek before he left. The contact sent shivers to her toes.
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    T EN MINUTES LATER she went downstairs to the garage, where she had everything waiting for the moving truck.
    She’d put her hair in a ponytail. Wearing clothes comfortable enough for physical work, she’d still dressed up a tiny bit. She wanted to look attractive for C.J.
    Before her weight loss, she used to make fun of girls who did that. With hindsight she realized she’d been jealous. She knew she looked good in her purple off-kilter tunic layered with a white tank top, black leggings and running shoes.
    Tasha entered the garage prepared to plunge in. Except…everything was gone! The old bed, dresser and a bunch of boxes full of junk brought down from the attic.
    Tasha ran into the house to find Stewart. He was in the great hall getting ready to drive her parents to another fundraising benefit downtown. More than ever the thirty-foot ceilings and Italian Carrara marble floorsmade her feel the world was all wrong. It was embarrassing to think how much money she came from and how little money the people she helped had.
    Stewart was about to call her parents on the house phone.
    â€œAre they still insisting you communicate this way?” She gave him a look of astonishment.
    â€œI follow instructions, miss.” The man had served her family for so long. Once she had even offered to pay him off so he could retire or do something else with his life.
    She remembered the look he’d given her. “What would I do? How would your parents manage? Now you run along, and thank you for worrying about old Stewart. I’m perfectly happy.”
    He just didn’t seem to care. She chalked it up to familiarity. Nobody liked upheaval. That was something she’d learned this week all too well.
    â€œIs my stuff heading to the penthouse?”
    â€œOh, yes.”
    â€œWith the man who was in my room earlier?”
    â€œYes. Your mother was delighted when Captain Powell showed up this morning. She gave him and his friends the key, and directions to the penthouse.”
    â€œShe really gave Captain Powell the keys, when she knew I had movers coming?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œI’ve got to call and cancel the truck.”
    â€œAlready done, miss. I took care of it myself.”
    She smiled at the butler. “Thank you.”
    She knew firefighters were strong and fast, but this was crazy. Not one to waste time herself, she ran up toher old bedroom to grab her purse so she could catch up with the truck. While she was inside, she heard a knock on the door. She