A Cinderella Affair Read online

  She nodded. “Yes. I’m feeling a lot better.”

  “Camille, the kids are on,” Dana announced, effectively breaking the trance between her and Adam.

  Camille attempted to move away from him to return to her spot where she could watch the show. He didn’t let her go like she’d anticipated, but stood beside her taking her hand in his. She didn’t even think to argue because it felt so right.

  Together they watched the group of teenagers in stylish outfits designed for their thicker frames and fuller figures. It was incredible to see their eyes alight with the appreciation of the audience. One girl in particular, Evanna, who was sixteen and wore a woman’s size fourteen, had been extremely nervous about today’s show. Camille had spent endless hours with her, going to lunch or to a movie or just hanging out. She saw so much of herself in Evanna that she tried to give her everything that her own childhood was missing.

  Evanna wore black capris with gold stitching and a gold tank top with a sheer covering that didn’t draw your attention to her large breasts or her plump behind. Instead, the black trimmed her figure, drawing attention to her five-foot-seven-inch height and long legs. She was a very pretty girl with a bright future ahead of her and Camille didn’t want to see it hampered by low self-esteem and doubts.

  For the second time today her heart swelled until she thought tears were inevitable. She took deep, steadying breaths because the last thing she wanted was for Adam to see her breaking down again. He probably already thought she was a basket case.

  “She looks really good,” Dana commented.

  Camille nodded. “She does.”

  Adam heard the pride in her voice and wondered again about the woman inside. Originally he’d thought she was timid and a little jittery, then he’d seen her with her stepmother and felt the tension between them. But that wasn’t abnormal now he was looking at her differently, watching her watch the young girl on the runway as if, in some way, she wished it were her.

  Had she wanted to be a model and for some reason didn’t try? Again, he thought of her stepmother and how great a possibility that was. That would explain a lot about her: the reluctance to act, the fear of not pleasing everyone.

  Inadvertently he tightened his grip on her hand as thoughts of protecting her against all odds took over. She looked up at him in question and he smiled, rubbing his thumb over her fingers instead of squeezing them tightly.

  In his mind it just wasn’t possible that she couldn’t see how beautiful and talented she was but then he was very aware of the dangers of low self-esteem. A girl he went to college with had succumbed to the stress of not feeling pretty enough or skinny enough. She’d died after months in the hospital, suffering pitifully at the hands of anorexia. Fear clutched his heart as he considered how dangerous this could be if Camille were suffering this way. He vowed to find out as soon as the show was over. And while he doubted Camille would be completely forthcoming with him, he had a sneaky suspicion that his best ally was standing very close. He eyed Dana and made a mental note to get her alone at the first available opportunity.

  The show was a rousing success. Everyone said so, from the reporters to the photographers and even the impromptu models.

  “My modeling days are over,” Trent said adamantly as they took their seats at the head table during the after party. “It doesn’t pay well,” he added, eyeing Adam.

  “I am not asking for her number to give to my big brother. Besides, you had your hands all over her onstage, I would think you’d have gotten all her vital statistics by now.”

  Linc and Max laughed with Adam as Trent’s frown increased. “No. I didn’t get her vital statistics, but I certainly plan to,” he said.

  Camille interrupted. “If you’re talking about Tia St. Martin, I can put you in touch with her agent.”

  Trent looked at her and visibly relaxed. “That’s okay. I’ll find her.”

  Adam watched as he looked across the room where a group of models had convened. He quickly spotted the tall beauty that had captured his brother’s attention and shook his head. That was one battle he did not envy being a part of.

  “Camille, I’ve ordered several gowns from the catalog and that sexy little cream outfit the model walking with Adam had on. How long will it take for delivery?” Jade asked.

  “Thanks, Jade. I’ll call the factory first thing Monday morning and have them do an overnight shipment.”

  “Don’t thank me, it’s a worthy investment. You are truly a fashion diva. My mother-in-law is going to be sorry she missed the opportunity to meet you.”

  Jade’s words struck a chord with Adam. He hadn’t thought of Camille in his personal space but here she was sitting at the head of a table filled with his family and they seemed to like her. However, his parents were a different story entirely. Not that they were bad people; Henry and Beverly Donovan were loving parents and compassionate people. Their forty-year marriage had even made them blissful romantics. They would like Camille, he finally decided.

  “So how’s the house coming along?” Linc was asking when Adam had tuned back in to the conversation at hand.

  “Demolition started today,” Max said. “That’ll take the next two to three weeks, then we’ll be ready to start with the decorating.”

  Linc nodded and took a sip of his wine. “Has Sal already starting shopping?”

  Salvatore Gianni was the president of Gianni Concepts, one of the top interior designers on the west coast. Adam used him for almost all of his projects. “He left yesterday for India,” Adam answered.

  Camille looked surprised. “India?”

  “I thought you discussed the décor with her, Adam.” Max sounded alarmed.

  “Oh, he did,” Camille spoke up. “I just didn’t realize that someone would be traveling so far to simply decorate a house.”

  “We want the best and Sal knows where to find it. Don’t worry, it’ll be great,” Adam said placing a hand over hers.

  “I’m not worried,” she said. “I trust your judgment.”

  Wow. Adam felt as if he’d been struck by lightning. Had she said she trusted him? No, what she’d said was that she trusted his judgment, in terms of decorating the house. That was it. What else was he hoping for?

  “Well, well, well, don’t we look quite cozy?” Moreen said as she made her way closer to Camille.

  Adam saw the moment Mrs. Davis’s voice registered with Camille. Her eyes, which had been dancing with remnants of excitement from the successful show, darkened. Her chin, which had been held high, fell. She looked up to see her stepmother and had to force a smile. “Hello, Moreen.”

  Moreen rolled her eyes. “Sit up straight, Camille. I swear you’d think I never taught you anything.”

  Then Moreen’s gaze shifted to Adam and her smile brightened. “Mr. Donovan, it’s a pleasure and a surprise to see you here. I didn’t know that fashion was your thing.”

  Having witnessed this switch in demeanor before, Adam quickly stood and reached for Mrs. Davis’s hand. “It’s nice to see you again as well, Mrs. Davis.”

  “Oh my, where are my manners? For a moment there I was acting as sheepish as Camille.” She spoke quickly and stepped to the side. “This is my date for the evening, Carl Rabodi. I’m sure you’ve all heard of him.”

  If it were possible Camille’s shoulders slumped even farther but she held her head up high now, her eyes the only giveaway to the anger within.

  “Fashions by Rabodi,” Jade said quickly. “Of course we know who you are. Your fall show is next week, right?”

  “Skulking for ideas, Carl?” Dana quipped.

  Carl Rabodi, a man of at least thirty-five years, stood tall, his dark hair slicked back and shining. The sprays of gray at his temples gave him an almost distinguished air. He smiled and nodded in Dana’s direction. “No, my dear. My show is ready. But I must say that I thoroughly enjoyed myself at your show and thank Moreen so much for inviting me.”

  “Nonsense, Carl. Camille should be flattered that su
ch an esteemed designer as yourself would take the time to come to her little show at all,” Moreen said with disdain.

  “CK Davis Designs is a very reputable fashion house. One Mr. Rabodi might want to keep an eye on in the future. I know that as far as I’m concerned, the bulk of my wardrobe will come from her,” Jade added absently.

  Linc followed her lead. “Her men’s line was notable. I’m actually toying with the idea of having her exclusively at the Gramercy’s boutique.”

  Carl cleared his throat. “You own boutiques, sir? I would be happy to schedule a private showing of Rabodi Fashions for your consideration.”

  “My brother owns the Gramercy Casino and Resort in Las Vegas,” Adam offered. “And his wife has a very reputable spa and salon. By adding CK Davis Designs to their business ventures their success will only multiply.”

  “Then they should definitely speak with you, Carl. You’ve so much more experience in this area than Camille.”

  “Yes, I’d really like a private meeting with you, ah…”

  “Donavan,” Linc supplied. “I’m Lincoln Donovan and this is my wife, Jade. You can call my office on Monday and have my assistant check my schedule but tonight has sort of sealed the deal with CK Davis Designs. Maybe another opportunity for your company will arise.”

  Moreen looked as if her eyes would bulge right out of their sockets. Dana sipped from her glass to cover a chuckle.

  “Camille, I’d like a status on the house when you’ve finished celebrating your little triumph tonight.” Moreen fairly spat the words.

  Adam was about to speak but this time was silenced by a look from Camille. “If you’d like a status, Moreen, you should probably call Mr. Donovan’s office. I don’t deal in the daily workings of the project.”

  Moreen was promptly surprised by Camille’s retort but carefully disguised it. “I just thought since you seem to be making a habit of sitting under him that you’d have some clue as to what was going on with the property. But I should have known you wouldn’t be that tuned to your business investments.”

  “To the contrary, I know what he’s doing and when he will be doing it. But I have a business of my own to run, therefore I can’t be expected to keep you in the loop.” This time Camille spoke sweetly before lifting her glass of champagne that had just been poured by the waiter who arrived sometime during the exchange. “I propose a toast,” she began and waited while the others at the table lifted their glasses in salute. “To CK Davis Designs and the new fall line.”

  “To Camille Davis and her talented designs,” Adam added.

  “Hear, hear,” Jade chimed.

  Moreen could only huff before grabbing Carl’s hand and stalking off.

  Adam couldn’t resist. He leaned over and kissed Camille’s cheek. “Well done,” he whispered and was rewarded by a sparkling smile.

  “I don’t think I’m going to sleep a wink tonight,” Camille said as she crossed the threshold into her apartment.

  Adam had accompanied her home and was now taking her key out of the door and closing it soundly behind him. It was after midnight and she was feeling very relaxed and just a tad tipsy after all the champagne she’d indulged in this evening. But after Moreen’s arrival and departure she felt the need to do something out of the ordinary.

  At first she couldn’t believe that Moreen had showed up and with her biggest competitor at that. But then she realized that was precisely what could be expected from her wonderful stepmother. The moment Moreen arrived she’d felt as if the floor was going to swallow her up. Then she’d looked over and saw Adam, noticing that he touched her hand. Jade and Linc had even come to her rescue. Camille figured that if these people that she barely knew could stand up for her she damn sure better stand up for herself. So she’d said what needed to be said to Moreen and proceeded to party for the duration of the evening.

  That decision was going to be hell to deal with in a few hours when the sun rose again, but she didn’t care. She felt good right now and that’s all that mattered.

  “I could read you a bedtime story,” Adam offered.

  She turned, remembering that he was in her apartment with her and smiled slowly. Damn, he was one fine-ass black man. Her fingers actually itched to yank his shirt open and rub along the taut skin of his chest. Did champagne normally make her horny? She had no idea.

  “You know bedtime stories?” she asked coyly and dropped her purse on the table. She was on her way to the couch when she stumbled. And of course, he caught her. She couldn’t have planned it better if she were a romance writer.

  His arms snaked around her waist, pulling her backside up against his front. Her entire world tilted. Now that could be another effect of too much champagne but she was betting it was too much Adam.

  “I know a lot of things,” he said, his mouth close to her ear. “For starters I know that you don’t hold your liquor well.” He moved them over to the couch and sat them both down.

  “What?” she asked, letting her head fall back against the chair. “I’ve got a really good retort to that comment and just as soon as the room stops spinning I’m going to say it.”

  Adam chuckled and brushed her hair back from her forehead. “You had a good time tonight. I’m glad.”

  Camille let out a deep breath. “I did.”

  “You don’t do that often, do you?”

  He was lifting her legs onto his. She remembered this position from the hotel in Vegas and wanted to sigh. He was a man, alone with her in her apartment after a night of drinking and dancing. There were so many things he could be doing to her, things she probably wouldn’t be disagreeable to, but he was taking off her shoes, rubbing her feet. She shifted until she was lying down, her head on the arm of the sofa. “I don’t have a lot of time to relax and enjoy myself.”

  He moved to the other foot. “You should make the time. Linc used to have that same problem. I used to tell him repeatedly, business is good, money is even better, but happiness and fulfillment in your life is worth so much more.”

  Camille lifted her head slightly. “How old are you again?”

  “It’s not about age. It’s about priorities and living a long and prosperous life. Business can’t sustain you forever.”

  “And this is coming from a multimillionaire real estate mogul.”

  Adam smiled. “Yes, it is. Because besides all that, I know how to have fun and enjoy myself.”

  “Are you enjoying yourself now?” she asked because she most definitely was. His hands had traveled from her feet to her ankles and from her ankles to her calves. Her body was on fire as she anticipated his hands moving further north.

  “I am.”

  His voice had lowered an octave and the room’s temperature increased. For one brief moment reality reared its ugly head and she remembered who she was, what she looked like, what size she wore and how none of that fit the type of woman Adam Donovan was used to. But then his hands were on her knees and suddenly none of that other stuff mattered.

  “I’m having a very good time. How about you, Camille? Do you like when I touch you?”

  She whispered yes and tried to keep from begging him to do so with a little more urgency.

  Adam leaned forward and touched her lips lightly with his. Camille instantly grabbed his head, pulling him into a hot exchange of tongues, lips and teeth. His hands moved up until they were on her thighs and she quivered. He’d shifted until he was on top of her, his hands slipping deeper between her legs. She struggled to spread her legs so that he wouldn’t encounter the part of her thighs that rubbed together and that’s when it hit her…reality has that way of coming back with a vengeance.

  She pulled away and struggled to get off the couch without tumbling to the floor. “I’m…ah… sorry,” she murmured while trying to fix her clothes.

  Adam sat up slowly then rested his elbows on his knees as he watched her begin to pace. “What’s wrong, Camille? I thought you said you were having a good time.”

  “I was.” She threw h
er hands up in the air. “I mean, I had a great time at the party and I really appreciate you coming through at the fashion show. I just—”

  She turned abruptly and bumped into him. He caught her by the shoulders. “You just what?”

  “I’m not… I can’t be what…um…” She couldn’t think straight. So much had happened in the last twenty-four hours, her emotions had been on a roller coaster from the moment she woke up this morning. Add that to all the champagne she’d consumed and it was no wonder she didn’t know if she were coming or going. “I’m drunk.”

  Adam grasped her nape and pulled her closer. “You’re not quite drunk, just very, very relaxed. So I don’t understand why you’re pacing as if something upset you. Did I do something wrong?”

  Camille shook her head negatively.

  “Then tell me what the problem is, Camille.”

  “We’re business associates,” she said meekly.

  It was Adam’s turn to shake his head. “You’ve gotta come better than that, Camille. This has nothing to do with our business together. And everything to do with me and you.”

  She slipped out of his grasp. “There is no me and you.”

  Adam pushed his hands into his pockets. “So what do you call what just happened on that couch?”

  “I don’t know, physics. Or maybe we both had too much to drink or maybe it’s just the momentum of the night. I don’t know, Adam.” She sighed. “I just know that this can’t go any further.”

  “Why?”

  “It just can’t, okay?”

  “No, it’s not okay!” he roared.

  She took a step back, not sure how to take his outburst.

  Adam moved closer, reaching out a hand to touch her but she moved away again. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to yell. It’s just that it’s frustrating trying to figure out what’s wrong with you all the time. Why can’t you just tell me what’s bothering you so we can figure it out together? That’s what adults do, Camille.”

  He was so right. He was so handsome and so perfect and he was so way out of her league. “You’re right,” she admitted. “I can’t do this because I know that it’s not what you really want.”