A Cinderella Affair. A.C. Arthur

Do you want to share?” he asked.

      He looked at her quizzically, not disapprovingly, she quickly noted. “No. It was nothing.” She cleared her throat. “I’d rather talk about you. I mean, I’d rather talk about your plans for my father’s house and why you approached only one of the owners.”

      Their food arrived so conversation was stalled for a few minutes. Adam had ordered the Porterhouse steak and roasted potatoes with steamed asparagus. Camille’s stomach lurched as the waiter put a huge salad in front of her. She attempted to focus on her salad, sprinkling it with lemon juice instead of salad dressing.

      Adam took a bite and moaned. “Linc has got the best chef in town. I swear I’ve been to just about all of the upscale restaurants in Vegas and have never experienced a steak so tender and seasoned as this one.”

      Camille stifled a moan of her own and stuffed a forkful of lettuce and croutons into her mouth. When Adam looked to her for a response she simply smiled and nodded.

      “Is that all you’re going to eat?” he asked as he cut another piece of steak.

      She nodded. “Yes, I’m not that hungry.” That was a blatant lie and if he could only hear the revolting sounds her stomach was making he’d know that.

      “I never could understand how rabbit food could fill a human stomach. My mother serves a salad with every meal. Made me want to puke when I was growing up.”

      Camille smiled and tilted her head to stare at him. “I’ll bet you were an obedient child,” she said absently.

      “And you’d lose every dime of your money.” He chuckled. “My mother could tell you stories of how mischievous I was. One time when my cousins were at the house I convinced them and my brothers to take the mattress off our beds and slide down the grand staircase in the foyer.” He laughed loudly then. “We had the best time.”

      Camille laughed with him because his smile reached his eyes which held hers captive. She laughed because the deep, sincere sound of his enjoyment touched a spot in her that she was sure she’d lost long ago. “What did your parents do?”

      “Mom blistered my butt something terrible. But that was nothing new. Out of my three brothers I got in the most trouble.”

      Camille stopped eating, placing her elbows on the table. Then as if she were right at the table with them, Camille heard Moreen’s shrill voice chastising her, “Take your elbows off the table.” Abruptly she pulled her arms down and dropped her hands in her lap. She prayed Adam hadn’t noticed but the moment she looked up she knew he had.

      “Ah, are you older than your brothers?” she asked quietly.

      Adam took a sip of his wine. “I am the youngest of the three and I’m twenty-nine.”

      “I don’t have any brothers or sisters.”

      “That must have been pretty lonely for you growing up, huh?”

      “Yes, it was.” She found herself about to tell him how lonely and how painful her childhood had been but then she remembered this was not a social evening. She sat up straighter in the chair and resumed the pretense of enjoying her salad. “So you didn’t tell me why you thought you could buy a property with only one owner’s consent. You and your brother don’t strike me as simple-minded businessmen.”

      He almost choked on his food and Camille quickly lifted his glass of water and handed it to him.

      He nodded and took the glass from her. “Thank you,” he murmured. He took a gulp then set the glass down. “You are correct. My brother and I are not simple-minded. This deal came up kind of sudden. I assumed that Max had taken care of the legwork, which I am sure he did. Details must have gotten misconstrued somehow.”

      “Yes, the tiny detail of my name beside hers on the will. Misconstruing details is right up Moreen’s alley,” she said dryly.

      “You don’t like your stepmother much, do you?”

      “Does it show?”

      Adam chuckled and held his two fingers together. “Just a tiny bit.”

      Camille smiled again. Adam Donovan had a way of making her smile. That was something she wasn’t used to with a man. Actually, she wasn’t sure she’d smiled at all in the past six months.

      “But now that we know there are two owners, we will approach the deal accordingly. Donovan Investments has no desire to cause a family feud or to face any legal hassles.”

      “Good. Then you can tell your brother that there is nothing to approach. I don’t want to sell my father’s house.”

      “So you plan on moving into it?”

      “No. I have a condo in the city. It’s close to my shop and it’s my own personal space. I need my personal space.”

      Adam nodded. “I know what you mean. Our house was big but it was always filled with people. So I couldn’t wait to get a place of my own where I could stretch out and do my own thing.”

      She didn’t respond. She didn’t want to talk about personal things with him anymore.

      “So what kind of shop do you have?” he asked.

      “Ah, it’s a design shop. I’m a fashion designer.”

      Adam contemplated her words. “You’re CK Davis Designs?” he asked incredulously.

      Camille slammed her fork down then took a deep breath trying to control her wayward emotions. “Don’t sound so surprised.” She couldn’t help feeling a bit hurt by his question. As if she, the ranting woman that had interrupted their big meeting, couldn’t possibly be capable of owning a business.

      “I wasn’t in any way insulting you. I own several of your suits and my mother loves your stuff. I’m just amazed that I’m actually sitting here with you.”

      That’s it, she was a goner. Camille’s heart fluttered and turned somersaults at his words. He was flattered to be here with her. She could just picture him in a CK Davis suit. The head of her men’s department was Palio Victor, a very talented man who obviously knew what other men were looking for in clothes.

      Here she was having dinner with a notoriously handsome man who had just admitted to being happy to be with her. If she were naïve enough to believe that she could have that type of luck she’d be ecstatic at the possibilities presenting themselves. But she knew better.

      Adam Donovan was happy to be with her for one reason and one reason only, her father’s house.

      This was business to him. She was just a way to get the deal he wanted.

      It wasn’t personal. He wasn’t really sitting here with Camille, the woman. Why would a man as rich and good-looking as he was ever want to do that?

      Adam watched her closely. There was something about the way she looked. She had very expressive eyes, ones that gave away each and every emotion she felt at the exact time she was feeling it.

      He’d watched her go from simmering anger to eager curiosity to extreme sadness. And with each change his need to know her better increased.

      Now, he watched the way her gaze flitted around the room, to see if anyone was watching them, he presumed. He rarely gave consideration to other people or what they said about him. As one of the Triple Threat Brothers he was always in one newspaper or another. Whether it be about his business or what the press assumed was going on in his personal life, he and his brothers had garnered their share of front-page appearances. He’d learned long ago to take it all in stride.

      Adam sat back in his chair and gave this situation as much serious thought as he could muster at the moment. His carefree persona did not allow him to overly examine situations like this. The one thing he knew for certain was that he liked Camille Davis.

      He’d watched her back at the office as that conference room had cleared. She was graceful and elegant,