A Cinderella Affair Read online

  “No. There’s something I want you to see before you leave. It’s sort of a long ride so we’ll have lunch when we get there.”

  She quickly scooted across the seat, away from Adam. “I don’t want to see your house, Adam.”

  If her words disturbed him Adam didn’t let it show. Instead he straightened his tie and glanced out the window before giving her a serious look. “I wouldn’t take you to my house without your permission, Camille. And there’s no reason for you to be afraid of being alone with me.”

  “I’m not afraid,” she said, although her heart was beating wildly in her chest. She wasn’t afraid of him, per se. Mostly she was afraid of the rejection that would inevitably come. Moreen was right about one thing. Adam was a great-looking guy used to a certain type of woman. She’d never fit into his world or his life. There was no sense in her thinking otherwise. “I just wanted to make that clear.”

  “Make what clear? That you’d rather jump out of a car than go to my house?”

  The look he gave her was casual but she could tell that he was bothered by her response. She couldn’t allow herself to be concerned with that. Dealing with Adam Donovan was going to take all her strength. He obviously had more experience with man/woman relations than she did and she doubted that he’d ever been on the receiving end of rejection.

  “We are together because of our business deal. I don’t want there to be any illusions, on either of our parts.”

  He didn’t move from his spot but crooked a finger, bidding her to slide next to him again. She did so very slowly because the attraction between them was too alluring to do otherwise. When she was still about a foot away he reached around her waist and pulled until she slid effortlessly into his side, their legs and arms touching. He lifted his hands and pushed her hair back so that he had a full, unfettered view of her face. “I deal in reality only. I know that we’re together because of a business deal. But I also know that I’d like there to be more.”

  Camille let out a choked laugh and tried to hide her continued nervousness. “Spoiled and candid. I’m learning so much about you today, Mr. Donovan.”

  He smiled then lowered his mouth to hers. “Relax, Camille. I won’t hurt you.”

  She shook her head. “Don’t say that,” she said seriously. “You have no way of knowing what you will and will not do in the future. I’d rather you not make promises that you don’t know if you can keep.”

  Her trust would be hard to win, Adam realized. Everything he managed to get from her would take a lot of work. He never worked to get a woman.

  Never.

  And since he had no intention of keeping a woman he’d never given the option any thought. This situation was changing with each second he remained near her. She was different, he already knew that. She was intriguing and, if he allowed her, she could be a repeat down memory lane. Adam let his hands fall from her face and watched as she sat back against the seat.

  An hour later they pulled onto a gravelly road. Through the window Adam saw the familiar sight of a skeleton house. Foundation and beams, work trucks and construction paraphernalia stretched over the hundreds of acres of land. The car came to a stop and Virgil pulled the back door open.

  Adam stepped out first, then reached for Camille’s hand. Her heels hit the gravel and she stumbled a bit as she stood. He held her hand tightly and then slipped an arm around her waist. “I forgot that the driveway hasn’t been paved yet. It’s not really conducive to high heels.”

  She looked up at him and frowned. “I’d say this place isn’t conducive to a lunch date, either.”

  They’d taken a few steps, Virgil following behind them with their lunch. “Are we on a date?”

  “No,” Camille answered hastily. “This is a business meeting, I guess.”

  Adam smiled. She was terribly attractive, regardless of how much work she entailed. “Take your time, the road clears a bit just up here.”

  “What is this place?” Camille asked when it appeared they’d entered the front door of the structure.

  “We’ll eat on the back porch, Virgil. You can go on ahead while I show Ms. Davis around,” Adam said.

  When they were alone he turned to Camille. “This is a house that’s being built by Donavan Investments. I wanted you to see it because I want you to understand that it’s not all about money for me. Shall we?” he asked with a flourish of his hand.

  Camille followed his lead, listening as he described what each room would be. Initially she’d thought it impossible to envision a house being in this spot that was presently only wood and nails. But as Adam went into detail about each room, the décor, the feel, the meaning she began to visualize and looked forward to seeing the finished product.

  “This will be the master bedroom,” he said when they’d come to the last room on the second level. “Over here will be nothing but windows so the Vegas skyline can be seen clearly. Deep browns and beiges will be the color scheme, something comforting, soothing to create a refuge after a long day’s work. I found some terrific wallpaper while I was in Italy last summer. It’s cream with the barest hint of gold woven intricately throughout. It’ll be fantastic in here.”

  Camille had been wandering around the open space as he talked. She saw the vision clearly, almost too clearly. “The bed will be here. Something big and inviting,” she said while standing in the middle of the floor. Turning in a small circle she continued, “Maybe a mahogany wood or cedar to play off the brown color scheme. A fireplace should be in that corner with a sitting area for nightcaps before falling asleep.”

  She stopped when she caught Adam staring at her. “It’s just a suggestion,” she said shyly. “I really don’t know much about decorating.”

  “But you know about color, about movement and feeling. What else do you see in here?” he prodded.

  She shrugged and took a step toward another opening. “This should be the master bath. Marble tiles, maybe a champagne-and-gold color to go with the wallpaper in the other room. A deep jetted tub could be here. His and her sinks and plenty of counter space.”

  “His and her sinks?” Adam questioned.

  “Women like their own space, especially in the bathroom.” She smiled because he looked like he was enjoying what she was saying.

  “There’s something to be said about sharing space. The intimacy, the connection of two people forced to remain close to each other.”

  His voice had lowered until a deep whisper and she felt mesmerized by his words. “I’ve often wondered how close two people could actually become. If that shared-soul thing was just a myth. What do you think?”

  This entire scene had been more than romantic, the empty room, the shared visions, the quietness of the desert around them. He’d been in a seductive mood watching her body as she moved throughout this space. One minute he wanted to rip her clothes off and make love to her on these bare floors and the next he was entranced in her words, wondering how she could so plainly see what was only in his mind.

  He’d brought up intimacy and connection when he knew that he was incapable of both. A part of him presumed she’d shy away from the conversation the way she had shied away any time he mentioned something other than business. This time she’d shocked him. Tossing the ball firmly in his court. And he’d dropped it.

  Thrusting his hands into his pockets he looked away and shrugged. “I guess it exists for people who are open to that type of involvement.” That sounded good, didn’t it? “I mean, if you’re the type to look for soul partners and connections of that sort.”

  “What type are you?” she asked immediately.

  “Excuse me?” he asked to buy himself some more time. It was suddenly really small in here.

  “Are you into connections and soul partners or are you simply into the moment? I’ve known people that are both ways. I’d have to say that I respect people that are into the moment more.”

  He would have guessed her for the romantic soul-partner type, but then she was constantly surprising him.
“Why?”

  “I respect honesty. I don’t like setting the scene to get what you want, then walking away as if you’d never been there. Get my drift?”

  Boy, did he, and again he was amazed. Camille Davis could be shy and emotional. On the other hand she could be ambitious and very intuitive. “I’ll keep that tidbit of information for later use,” he said because he was sure that any other response would have been the wrong one.

  Adam led her back downstairs to the back of the house where Virgil had set up a folding table with two chairs. The table was covered with a white linen cloth with a vase filled with peach roses in its center. Three crystal bowls held salads; chicken, turkey and macaroni, and a silver tray held a tower of sandwiches. In front of each chair was a china plate and a glass. A pitcher of fresh-squeezed lemonade and another of water rounded out the meal. With a nod of approval Adam dismissed Virgil.

  “Did you fix a plate?” he asked the driver before he had a chance to leave them alone.

  Virgil nodded positively and Adam smiled.

  “You feed your employees. So you’re not a heartless employer,” Camille commented while taking a seat. Then her voice shifted with concern. “You didn’t order any tossed salad.”

  “Sorry, you know I have bad memories about rabbit food.” Adam took his seat and picked up her plate. “I’m glad you don’t consider me heartless,” he said as he scooped a spoonful of chicken salad onto her plate. He followed it with a scoop of each of the other salads, then picked up a half sandwich and set it on the plate. He watched her frown when he put the plate down in front of her. It both annoyed and concerned him.

  “A salad would have been fine,” she said.

  Adam held her glare. “You only had fruit and juice for breakfast. That was about—” he looked at his watch “—five hours ago. I’ve given you three salads and a sandwich. You need to eat.”

  Camille pushed the plate away. “You’re also bossy.”

  Adam chuckled. “You’re developing quite a list of my traits.” He pushed the plate closer to her. “Eat, Camille.” Adam picked up his plate and began to fill it with food.

  “I’m not a child,” she argued and pouted.

  “Then stop acting like one.”

  She looked as if she wanted to say something else, to argue just a bit more. Then he presumed she thought better of it and with a frown picked up her fork and took a bite. A small measure of triumph spread through him and he happily continued to stack his own plate.

  Camille sat on the plane staring out the window in deep thought. This trip had not gone the way she’d planned and yet it had been quite enjoyable.

  She liked Adam. That was undeniable.

  She liked the deal she’d struck with Donovan Investments even more. After touring the unfinished house with Adam and listening to his ideas she’d begun thinking of her father’s house and all the wonderful things they could do to transform that space. She couldn’t wait until the renovation began but now was trying to figure out how she was going to work that project in with her already busy schedule.

  That brought her back to her own reality and she took out her organizer and PalmPilot, then called her office for messages. Dana was her partner at CK Davis Designs but Dana did mostly administrative stuff. Camille was the designer and so the clothes, models and fashion show were all hers. And she loved it. From the time she was thirteen and she’d returned from a shopping spree with Moreen angry and discouraged by the lack of pretty clothes designed for girls who weren’t a perfect size zero to seven, she’d known that this was her calling.

  By the time she was fourteen she’d already designed a complete winter collection for the slightly overweight teenage girl. And although she never shared her pictures with anyone it gave Camille great satisfaction to know that there was something she was good at. It wasn’t until she was a junior in high school and Dana came across her box full of designs that the idea for CK Davis Designs was formed. Dana had an excellent head for business and the ambition and drive that Camille had yet to possess.

  College quickly turned into design school where Camille perfected her already keen skills. She enrolled in a few business classes with Dana and began to feel her own sense of ambition rise. The thought of running her own business, of catering to all sizes—the forgotten ones—in a fashionable way in an effort to help boost their self-esteem became her sole focus. Her father’s encouragement only solidified her career choice.

  Today, CK Davis Designs was her heart and soul. It provided the type of therapy that money could never buy. She was doing something important, something that helped people like her. This fall she would release her first children’s line and she was more than excited. It would be a success, she was sure of it. Too bad she wasn’t that certain in other areas of her life.

  Sofari, her assistant, had handled most of the routine calls but there were two emergencies she needed to deal with immediately upon her return. She was short on a fabric that was imperative to the evening gown collection and her male model order was in jeopardy due to two more fashion shows taking place the same week. She placed another call to her factory manager informing him that she’d be there first thing in the morning and to have all the samples ready for inspection and one final call to Dana to let her know what time she’d be landing.

  Now she had about forty-five minutes to think about how she was going to get over this growing crush she had on Adam Donovan.

  It was basically ridiculous that a twenty-nine-year-old woman could develop a crush on a man in one day. Actually, she could admit, to herself only, that this crush had developed months ago when she’d first bumped into Adam at the Gramercy Casino. Dreaming of him had been her secret, one she presumed she’d have for the rest of her natural life. She never imagined that she’d see him again, let alone be forced to work with him in any way.

  She thought of the deal she’d struck and the possibility that she’d done it just to keep contact with him for a little while longer. She smiled to herself; if only she were so brave to think of something like that. The deal was a result of her reluctance to let go of her father, the only person who ever loved her unconditionally. She just prayed that once the renovations were done she would be able to finally put that part of her life behind her.

  Adam tapped into another one of her deficiencies. Relationships were not her specialty. In fact, they only seemed to remind her of all her shortcomings, so she didn’t spend a lot of time on them. For once, she admitted, Moreen had been right, Adam wasn’t in her league. Not just because he was rich, because she had money of her own. But Adam appeared to be the type of man used to having women, a certain type of women. Tall, skinny and beautiful immediately came to her mind. Three things Camille was not.

  With a hand she smoothed down her jacket letting her palms rest on her thighs. She pulled her legs closer together so the spread wouldn’t look as wide. It didn’t work because she could only keep them that way for a few minutes. Briefly she entertained the thought that Adam didn’t mind her extra curves. The lunch date and the trip to the house weren’t strictly business. Camille was smart enough to know that. And Adam was clear on his intentions, well, mostly at least. He was attracted to her. The kiss in his office and again when he dropped her off at the airport proved that. Maybe he just wanted to sleep with her. Men who preferred tall, skinny women on their arms weren’t really that particular about what type of woman was in their bed.

  Unfortunately, Camille wasn’t that type of woman. With all her self-esteem issues she’d held strong to one fact. If she were in a relationship with a man he would give her the respect she deserved. With that in mind she decided that it was imperative, where Adam Donovan was concerned, to preserve her dignity and to guard whatever unsolicited emotions she was developing for him carefully.

  There were things in life that Camille needed, things she didn’t expect any man to ever provide. She accepted that fact and the lonely fate it dictated for her. Yet she still had a life. She had a flourishing busin
ess and a friend who was as close as family. Those things would sustain her. They had to.

  Adam returned to the office after dropping Camille off at the airport. On the ride over he’d thought about their afternoon together. To say he was intrigued by this woman was a grave understatement.

  Women were one of his favorite pastimes. He liked them tall, short, employed, unemployed, pretty and not so pretty. He just liked women. Did that make him a bad guy? He didn’t think so. So why did he feel like Camille was going to hold that against him?

  He shouldn’t be worried about how she thought of him. Hell, she had most of his unfavorable traits down to a T. He smiled as he remembered her comment about him being bossy. He’d often accused his brothers of the same thing so he never figured himself for it.

  Closing his eyes he allowed himself one more visual of her innocently pretty face and her deceptively sexy body. There were many contrasts where Camille Davis was concerned, the biggest, most blatant one being the complete naivety she exuded mentally while her voluptuous body spoke of great passion and experience physically. His groin tightened with the thought. Having experienced many women Adam had developed a special taste for soft feminine curves. Curves which Camille possessed an abundance of. He sensed that she wasn’t all that comfortable with her body and couldn’t help wanting to teach her all the ways to use that commodity to her advantage. He’d held her close, feeling her full, round breasts against him. He’d watched the sway of her hips until his eyes had almost been hypnotized and he’d imagined himself planted firmly between her thick thighs to the point of almost embarrassing her and himself with his overzealousness.

  Yes, Camille Davis and that luscious body of hers would drive him insane. If he let her. Which he had no intention of doing.

  There was a new deal on the table. One that meant a lot to him, for reasons he wasn’t quite ready to disclose.

  “I see you’ve returned. What happened, you finally remembered there was business you needed to take care of?” Max said, coming into Adam’s office and taking an unoffered seat.