Sun Chara

Manhattan Millionaire’s Cinderella


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      Manhattan Millionaire's Cinderella

      Sun Chara

      A division of HarperCollinsPublishers

      www.harpercollins.co.uk

      Contents

       Sun Chara

       Dedication

       CHAPTER ONE

       CHAPTER TWO

       CHAPTER THREE

       CHAPTER FOUR

       CHAPTER FIVE

       CHAPTER SIX

       CHAPTER SEVEN

       CHAPTER EIGHT

       CHAPTER NINE

       CHAPTER TEN

       CHAPTER ELEVEN

       CHAPTER TWELVE

       Love Romance?

       About HarperImpulse

       Copyright

       About the Publisher

       Sun Chara

      Greetings from southern California! I’m a teacher turned actor/writer and have appeared on stage and film in How the Other Half Loves, General Hospital, and McGee & Me. The showbiz background comes in handy with speaking engagements, judging RWA contests, and judging the Emmys. I have a Master of Arts Degree, and I'm a member of the Screen Actors Guild and Romance Writers of America. Globetrotting for lore (once, on an excursion amidst the pyramids in the Valley of the Kings, a gentleman offered fifteen camels for my hand…now had it been race horses…) while keeping tabs on Hollywood leads, I love creating stories of pure passion with global thrills!

      To my sweet mom, bros Joe and Harry and family, and the beautiful people of Cyprus, England and across the globe … you shine!

      A super nova thanks to my wonderful editor Charlotte Ledger who spoke words of wonder: 'I really feel it's meant to be having picked you out of SYTYCW!' Wow!

      Bunches of thanks to the best ever publishing team at Harper Impulse … you are magical!

      And to everyone who has a dream, Never Give Up!

      'With God all things are possible.'

       CHAPTER ONE

       Cade Sloan—Manhattan’s hotshot bachelor on the brink of bankruptcy .

      Cade read the headline and hurled the newspaper into the trashcan, the taunting words searing his brain. Prowling back and forth his high-rise office, he paused mid stride and zoned in on his secretary, who sat ramrod straight, her fingers flying across the computer keyboard.

      “Ms. McLow—” The words dissolved on his tongue, and he scratched his head. What was her name anyway?

      “Ms. McLow—” He cleared his throat and tried again. “Ms.—”

      “McLowsky.” She lifted a shapely brow and tossed him a glance through her coke-bottle thick lenses, a blush on her cheeks. “Nina McLowsky.”

      Did she just click her tongue in disapproval?

      Just his luck. She came with attitude.

      “Of course.” He swiped a finger around his shirt collar, and his chest tightened. “Nina McLowsky.” Scrambling to regroup, he seized the coffee-mate from the counter and filled a cup with coffee.

      She looked like she had walked out of a 1950s Norman Rockwell painting, the epitome of diplomacy and efficiency. He stroked his throat, and then shook his head, amazed. He was actually flirting with the idea of a merger …with her.

      At least with her there’d be no emotional tantrums. The thought had him breaking out in a sweat. He never let any woman get close enough to get a glimpse beneath the surface, to know what made him tick. ‘Never trust a woman,’ was his motto.

      A cab horn blared amidst the congested traffic on Madison Avenue ripped through his thoughts. He flinched in annoyance.

      He hadn’t felt this out of his depth since he was a boy, and he had vowed never to feel like this again. And he was running out of options. His global real estate investments were about to tank. He had to score a mega hit or he was going to cave. Fast.

      And that rankled his pride.

      “Here you go.” He plopped the coffee cup on her desk, and a huff of air burst from his mouth, ruffling a wisp at her temple.

      She squinted at the steaming brew, then up at him, her baby blues all innocence and perplexity. “Thank you.”

      His gut flexed. He frowned and dismissed the unsettling feeling.

      “Careful, it’s hot.”

      She peered at him above her thick lenses, a hint of a smile on her mouth, her fingers never missing a beat. Maybe if he focused on the dimple on her cheek, he could go through with the transaction.

      “Take a moment, Ms. McLowsky.” The smell of caffeine gave him a boost, and latching onto his own mug, he shot her his killer smile.

      “Sir?”

      “Well…uh…” he began, words sticking in his throat. “Drink up.”

      “Yes, sir.” She picked up the steaming cup, blew on the liquid and took a sip, fixing her gaze on him over the rim.

      Was that a glint of amusement in her eyes?

      She blinked and it was gone. “Is that it, sir?” She set the cup on the desk.

      “No.” He lifted his mug to his lips, took a gulp of the black brew and scorched his tongue. He swore, a muffled sound.

      She heard, and raised that well-defined eyebrow again.

      “There’s a new position in the company.” He stepped closer and hitching up his jean-clad leg, propped his hip on the corner of her desk. “You’re the best match.”