Cinderella's Lucky Ticket. Melissa James

fell against the wall, in gasping chuckles. “Now I see your problem—you were born in the wrong century. You won’t take off your cardigan for me?” He doubled right over.

      Tears sprang to her eyes. “That was unkind of you to say,” she whispered. “And—and you’re wrong. Mother and Father and Hugh are all wrong. I am not a genetic throwback. I am not a poor, submissive little woman who’s only good for supporting things more important than me! I’m a human being, and you will treat me with basic respect, d-do you understand?” She scrubbed at her eyes.

      He looked at her for a long moment, with a quiet soberness in his handsome face. “I didn’t mean it. I was jerking your chain. Teasing is my worst habit, according to my family. I’m sorry.” He spoke with the same awkward sincerity he’d used over the keys. “C’mon, let’s go. I won’t laugh at you any more. Scout’s honor.”

      “Were you ever a Scout?” she asked doubtfully.

      He grinned then. “Suspicious woman. You wound me, Lucy-babe. Just coffee, croissants and pleasant conversation, I swear.”

      She resisted the urge to smile, but it was oh, so hard. “I don’t trust you an inch.” Her stomach rumbled again in aggressive protest, and they both laughed. “Well, all right, but I’m only coming for the food. And don’t call me babe!”