A Cinderella Affair Read online

  She looked stressed even in her sleep. He’d brushed his hand over her forehead, trying to smooth away the worry lines there but had been unsuccessful. Whatever it was that bothered her so deeply attacked her even in sleep.

  This morning he’d awakened with a tense body and a mind still full of Camille Davis. He wanted to call her, to offer to have breakfast with her. Anything, because he’d felt desperate to see her. But then Max had called wanting to meet with him alone before their meeting with the Davis women.

  He’d been in this building for four hours already and was itching to see Camille, to at least talk to her. After finally finding a reasonable excuse to leave Max’s office Adam had headed for the elevators. He was pacing in front of the doors, his hands in both pockets of his pants as he waited for the elevator to arrive. His shoes clicked against the marble floor and he wondered what was taking Camille so long. It was his plan to ride downstairs, to look for Virgil and his car and then to call the hotel if need be.

  He heard the ding signaling that the elevator was there and stopped directly in front of it. The doors opened and his heart gave a staggered beat.

  Camille stood against the wall, her eyes closed tightly, her hands gripping the handrail until her knuckles turned white. Of course he rushed to her side and of course he touched her, it would have taken an army of men to prevent him from doing otherwise.

  His hands covered hers as he tried to pull them off the rails. “What is it?” he whispered.

  Camille’s eyes shot open and searched his face for recognition. Adam felt the moment she realized who he was. It was a flash of heat, pooled in the center of her pupils. Then the heat melted away to be replaced by surprise and then indignation. “I am fine. Let me go,” she said in a voice that was way too shaky for his liking.

  “You’re shaking. Who upset you?” She smelled delicious and looked fantastic. He’d noticed her stylish beauty that first night and then yesterday he’d watched her natural feminism blossom in front of him. Today, she was sophisticated, alluring.

  “I am fi—”

  “Don’t lie to me, Camille,” he interrupted. He captured her gaze and held it, letting her know he was serious and that her claims of being okay were not fooling him. “Tell me what’s wrong?” he said in a calmer tone even though his body shook with anger that he couldn’t quite place.

  “I was just thinking of something that made me sad. That’s all. I am really fine now.” She tried to move around him when the elevator doors closed. “Great,” she said in an exasperated tone as she pushed the button to try and open them again.

  It was too late; the elevator was already moving again. She sighed and rested her forehead on the doors.

  Adam walked up behind her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Were you thinking of your father?”

  She didn’t answer but he felt her shoulders tense.

  “It’s okay to be sad about losing him, Camille. If something happened to my father I’d be crushed. You can cry, it doesn’t make you weak.”

  “Crying won’t bring him back,” she said softly.

  “No,” he said stroking her arms. “It won’t. But sometimes a good cry is just what a body needs to rejuvenate itself and move on.”

  She inhaled and exhaled deeply. “I am not going to cry. I just want to get this meeting over with so I can go home.”

  Adam reached around her and pushed the number to the floor the meeting was on. “Then we will make it quick.”

  They stood in the quiet for a second or so, then Adam took a deep breath himself, filling his body with her scent as he did. For a minute he was dizzy with wanting her. Then he shook his head to clear those thoughts. “What do you want to do about the house, Camille? Whatever you want, I’ll respect.”

  Camille sighed. Her traitorous body had been on fire since the moment he’d stepped onto this elevator. She’d wanted to fall into his arms when she’d opened her eyes and saw him looking down at her. He was so close, his body offering a shield of protection she had always longed for. But then she remembered who he was and what he wanted and who she was and what she wanted. She did not need a protector and she did not want Adam Donovan feeling as if she were indebted to him in any way.

  But then he’d said something that once again had changed her thoughts where he was concerned. She’d come here today with the express intention of ending this deal. She would keep her father’s house and buy Moreen’s share if need be. She would not sell to this man who had already admitted to fixing up properties and selling them for profit. She did not want her father’s house in someone else’s hands. But, as Dana and Moreen had reminded her, she had no intentions of living in it herself. While she wanted the memory to exist in her mind, she in no way thought she could handle facing it on a daily basis.

  So where did that leave her? What did she want to do with the house?

  He would respect her wishes. What kind of businessman said that? And did he mean it?

  She turned slowly until she was facing him. He was still very close, so much so that his silky gray tie was at direct eye level with her. She reached out and touched it because she had always loved a good tie. Her father wore expensive ties of the most original colors. Adam did not move and she was careful to keep her fingers from actually grazing his chest. She looked up into his eyes then and saw something there she hadn’t wanted to accept.

  Adam Donovan had caring eyes to go along with this compassion that he’d shown her on two occasions now. He was dangerously handsome with his close cut curly black hair and cleft chin. His body was broad, like most of the male models she hired and yet he did not appear to be ruled by his good looks. That was a rarity in her world. In the world of fashion people who looked like Adam knew they were the bomb and commanded healthy paychecks because of it. Adam already had a boatload of money and he looked too good to be true. But that wasn’t any of her business.

  She pulled her hands away from him and asked. “What will you do with the house if I sell it to you? I mean, specifically, what will you do to it?”

  “A complete renovation beginning with the main hall and extending all the way out to the landscape. It’s a great piece of land but it isn’t being displayed to its best advantage. I have several designers that I work with exclusively but I’m thinking of one in particular who is a master with Asian décor.”

  Camille studied him. “The high ceilings,” she said slowly. “That is what I like best about the house. When I was a little girl I used to pretend it was my castle.”

  He touched her chin then her cheek and she struggled not to lean into him. “The princess,” he whispered.

  He looked at her as if she were the only person in the world and she liked it. She wondered what he saw, if it were the fat girl who couldn’t get enough of her father’s attention or the businesswoman who spent her time dressing other females because she was so ashamed of her own body. Those were her therapist’s words. Questions she’d asked Camille. Questions Camille still could not answer.

  “I was never a princess,” she responded. “More along the lines of Cinderella, I would say.”

  “Cinderella was a princess, a beautiful one who was rescued by the dashing prince at the ball.”

  He still touched her face and this time Camille did lean her head into his touch. Just for a moment she’d allow herself the fantasy.

  Then the elevator dinged and the doors opened again. She pulled away from him then and stepped off. She heard him behind her and turned back to face him.

  “I won’t sell you the house.”

  Chapter 3

  Adam tried not to react to her words. They bothered him, there was no denying that, but he doubted she needed to hear that. Instead he nodded in concession, then took her arm and led her towards the conference room.

  “Where are we going?” she asked when he’d all but dragged her several steps.

  “To the meeting. Once we’re all gathered you can tell everyone what you’ve decided.” And he could watch Max die a s
low death when she did. This was a multimillion-dollar deal for Donovan Investments and a huge blow to their ego if it did not go through.

  “But I want to tell you first.” She slowed down as they approached the door.

  Adam clenched his teeth to keep from speaking too harshly to her. He really couldn’t understand why she was keeping the house if she had no intention of ever using it again. If it were just because she wanted a piece of her father then she was doing him a grave disservice, as well. That house and that property deserved to be more than a shrine. “You’ve already told me,” he grumbled.

  “No.” She stopped, pulling her arm out of his grip. “I haven’t told you all of it.”

  Adam took a deep breath and faced her. “You don’t want to sell the house. I have no choice but to accept that.” He hadn’t wanted to look at her, hadn’t wanted that connection with her again but found his gaze resting on those slanted eyes of hers and knew he was going to give in. “Tell me the rest, Camille.”

  She clasped her hands in front of her and fidgeted for a second, then seemed to pull herself together and looked at him seriously. “I want us to be partners. I mean, in this deal. I agree that the house has a lot of potential that it’s not reaching and I’d like to see it renovated. My expertise is in dressing men and women, not houses. And since Donovan Investments apparently has a good track record in renovating properties I think we could work well together.”

  Adam shook his head. “I don’t understand. I buy houses, fix them up and sell them. And you’re suggesting some sort of partnership in just renovation. That’s not what we do.”

  Her hair was cut in a neat bob scraping the line of her jaw. When a strand slipped dangerously close to her mouth she lifted her hand and tucked it back behind her ear. The right side of her face was left bare; her high cheekbone and lightly shaded eye were completely exposed. But he was not going to be distracted by her exotic good looks.

  “I’ll pay for half the renovations and as an investment you can pay for the other half. Once the work is done we’ll have the house appraised again and I’ll decide if I’m going to sell it to you.”

  “And what happens when you decide you still want to keep the house for yourself?”

  “I’ll pay you your investment back.”

  Adam was stunned. At this time yesterday he’d been headed into a meeting that he thought was an open-and-shut deal. Now there were too many elements for him to keep track of. There was the beautiful, yet complicated woman, the stepmother who he wasn’t so sure was on the up-and-up and now this. “Why would I be interested in an investment, Camille? I can just as easily find another property and go about my business the usual way. There’s really no reason why I should give this deal of yours a second thought.”

  “You met my father. You saw what that house meant to him and I’ve told you what it means to me. Are you just a ruthless businessman with his eye only on the money to be made? Or do you have some real passion for what you do?”

  It was issued as a challenge. That alone had knocked Adam further off kilter. A few minutes ago she was trembling in his arms, now she was standing toe to toe with him as if they were in a fight for their lives. “I admit that the house has a lot of potential, so much so that I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it. But I want it for myself.”

  An elegant brow arched as she glared at him and heat raced to Adam’s groin. “Selfish, are we?”

  He shrugged. “More like greedy.” He took a step closer to her. “You see, Camille, when I see something I want I stop at nothing to obtain it. And once I have it, it’s mine until I’m ready to let it go.”

  To her credit she did not flinch and Adam grew even more aroused. “That’s a habit I’m sure you can stand to break, Adam. I’m offering you a partnership. I know how much that house is worth and I’m sure that with renovations that price would be tripled. You strike me as a gambling man so there’s no way you’re going to let this opportunity slip through your fingers because of a technicality.”

  “The fact that you will still own the house I pour my heart into renovating is not a technicality. There’s no guarantee that at the end of the project I’ll see that triple profit.”

  “And there’s no guarantee that you won’t.”

  Before he could refute that statement the door to the conference room opened and Max joined them.

  “I was wondering if I was going to have to send a search party for you two. Can we get this meeting going? I’m sure Ms. Davis has her own business to tend to back in L.A.,” he said in a clipped tone.

  Adam watched as Camille smiled at Max. “You’re absolutely right, Mr. Donovan. I’m ready to begin.”

  She slipped past him and Adam felt his whole body tremble. Never before had he been affected by a woman like this. She confused him, she intrigued him, she baffled and impressed him. Rubbing a hand down his face he tried to fight off the feeling that he was sinking in quicksand.

  “You okay?” Max asked, clapping him on the back.

  Adam turned but avoided Max’s assessing gaze. “I’m fine. Let’s get this over with.”

  Camille entered the conference room knowing that Adam was right behind her and knowing that she’d confused the hell out of him. She’d even confused herself. She had come to this meeting with the express intention of telling them she would not sell and now she was thinking differently. While she wasn’t quite sure she wanted to sell the property outright she knew that she would love nothing more than to see it renovated.

  Moreen had been too busy spending her father’s money on herself to make sure the house was in the shape it should be. Camille always felt that if her mother had lived their home would have been grand and warm with love. Instead it was just big, full of rooms and expensive things but no real feeling, except for the memories she kept locked in her mind.

  When she took a seat Camille noticed Moreen looking at her with her normal disdain. Camille put her purse on the table and sat up as straight as possible in the low-backed chair. Today was not the day to be cowed. Instead she turned to her stepmother and managed a cool smile. “Good afternoon.”

  Moreen frowned. “That color does nothing for you. It makes your skin look dull and drab.”

  Camille kept her smile in place and watched as Adam and Max took their seats across the table.

  Moreen moved in closer and whispered viciously, “And that jacket is too small. You’d think you would know what size you wear by now.”

  “Can I get you some coffee or something?” Max asked Camille since he’d already gotten Mrs. Davis a drink while they waited.

  Camille tried to ignore Moreen’s comment but felt her hands shaking as she moved her purse from in front of her off to the side of where she sat. “Yes, please. I’d like some water.”

  “I’ll get it,” Adam said before Max had a chance to move. He stood and Camille watched his well-built body in that expertly cut suit and remembered how it felt when he’d held her last night.

  Take a chance for once, she remembered Dana saying.

  It makes your skin look dull and drab, Moreen’s words echoed over Dana’s.

  Adam put the glass in front of her and touched her shoulder. She jumped slightly then looked up at him. “Thanks,” she whispered.

  “Take a sip then we’ll get started,” he told her.

  His gaze held hers as she brought the glass up to her lips and swallowed slowly. Camille wasn’t sure if it was the cool liquid sliding down her dry throat or the steady hand of the man standing behind her on her shoulder. In any case her heart rate slowed to a normal rhythm and she looked over at Max.

  “Your partner and I were just discussing a slight modification to your proposal,” she said in a confident voice.

  Max lifted a brow and looked towards Adam who was moving back to his seat. “Modification?”

  “Yes, it appears that Ms. Davis has some ideas of her own where her father’s house is concerned. I think we should hear her out.”

  Adam gave her a nod an
d she warmed all over. He hadn’t really said if he agreed with the idea but at least he wasn’t shutting her down totally. He was giving her the floor to speak and she prayed she could handle it.

  Of course she could handle it. She was Camille Davis of CK Davis Designs. She designed thousand-dollar dresses for Hollywood’s elite, she made a seven-figure salary, had been featured in several magazines and supervised over sixty models per show. Surely she could handle herself in this room with three people, even if one of them was Moreen.

  “Adam touched on something last night while we were at dinner that had me thinking. My father’s house is a great property with lots of potential to make a bundle of money. Outside of that it has good structure and the potential to be a beautiful home. That said, I would like to be a part of making that a reality,” she said and watched as Adam sat back in his chair, his warm eyes settling on her.

  “What are you talking about? Are we selling the house to them or not?” Moreen protested.

  Max hadn’t spoken yet. Camille recognized mild interest in what she was saying so she continued. “The property won’t be sold to Donovan Investments, yet. I’m offering to foot the bill for half the renovations and Donovan Investments can put up the other half. At the end of the project I’ll decide if I want to sell the property.”

  “You’ll decide. Just wait a minute here, missy. You don’t call all the shots. Half of that house is mine and I say we sell now. I don’t want to be burdened with that property any longer,” Moreen huffed.

  Camille turned to her quickly. “Then you can sell me your share and I’ll do with it what I want.”

  Before an argument could break out Max held up a hand and said, “Wait a minute, I have a couple of questions. Ms. Davis, you have more than enough money to renovate that house yourself. Why even offer us the opportunity to invest if you don’t want to sell to us?”