A Cinderella Affair. A.C. Arthur
she planned to throw herself out of the car if he made one false move.
And a lot of moves had crossed his mind. Her perfume was soft and delicate and floated through the interior of the car, casting him under a heady sensual spell. His blood pumped hard and fast throughout his body, desire building a wall of tension at the base of his neck as he sensed this would not be an easy conquest. Some women took more time, more finesse than others. Camille Davis was one of those women.
“Your father was a good man,” he said because she was looking like she was about to take off at any moment. That confused him a bit. She seemed to have a very contradictory personality. She’d barged into that meeting this afternoon with confidence and spunk but now that she was here, alone with him, she seemed tense and withdrawn. “I met him once about a year ago. That’s when I first got the idea to buy his house.”
Her eyes focused on him. “You asked my father if you could buy the house? What did he say?”
“It was a very impromptu meeting. I was in L.A. I’d seen a picture of the house in a magazine at a hotel. I was so impressed by the photos I showed up on his doorstep. And because he recognized my name he let me in. He was very gracious and gave me a grand tour. I asked what the price tag was and he laughed.” Adam smiled as he remembered that evening. “He offered me a drink and told me that houses were for sale but his home was his sanctuary and there weren’t enough zeroes in the balance of the Federal Reserve that would make him part with it.”
She nodded. “That sounds like something Daddy would say.”
There it was, that tiny spark in her eyes, that wistful bit of happiness that she refused to take hold of. He wondered why she was so intent on being sad. “I don’t want you to think I’m a vulture. I did not pounce on this property the moment I heard your father had passed.” Her opinion of him was important. Why, he wasn’t quite sure.
“If you know that he didn’t want to sell it while he was living why are you trying to get it now?”
He sighed because her gaze pierced him. She was making him think about this deal way too deeply. “Because it’s my business. It’s what I do.”
“You buy properties that aren’t for sale?” she inquired while slowly lifting her glass to her lips.
He didn’t miss the bite in her words and found he preferred even that to her looking sad and defeated. “I find properties with the potential to make me a lot of money. I buy them and I renovate them. Then I resell them for a profit.”
“A shrewd business man, I see.”
Adam shrugged. “I’m good at it.”
“I’m good at cursing people out but I don’t do it for a living,” she snapped.
He smiled. “I’m not a hitman or a traitor. I’m an investor. It’s a legitimate business, not to mention a profitable one. It’s sort of like you being a designer.”
She frowned. “How do you figure that?”
“You look at old styles, old clothes that used to work or used to be in fashion. And then you put a new spin on them. You add more expensive material and your classic level of design.” He smiled because he could see that she was seeing the similarities. “And then you sell them, making yourself a tidy profit.”
She dropped her fork and glared at him. “Whatever. I am not selling my father’s house and this dinner is over.”
She was pushing her chair back, about to stand, when he reached across the table and grabbed her wrist. It was an impulsive move. He didn’t know why he’d done it and he didn’t know what he planned to do now that he had. All he knew for certain was that the thought of her walking out of the restaurant and out of his life again was too much to bear.
She stilled. He loosened his grip, letting his fingers rest complacently. He noted the erratic thumping of her pulse and wondered briefly if she were afraid of him. If so, he definitely wasn’t winning any brownie points. He took a deep breath and tried to regroup.
Women loved his smile. They said it made him seem more human, more approachable than his brothers. So he smiled.
She arched an eyebrow. “You can either let my arm go or I can scream for security. Which do you prefer?”
He pulled his hand away as if he’d been burned and watched in amazement as she stood. Never once in all his years of wooing women had his signature smile not worked.
Then, because she was about to walk away, he hurriedly stood and moved in front of her, being careful not to touch her this time. “I thought we were going to talk about the house. You haven’t even heard why I want to buy it.”
Camille rolled her eyes and folded her arms over her chest, an action that lifted her heavy breasts upward until he could see even more of the creamy mounds above the rim of her blouse. Adam swallowed. Hard.
“You said you buy houses and then sell them. That’s your job so I assume that’s what you plan to do with my father’s house. If so, I am not interested.”
Damn, she was sexy when she was angry. Adam had visions of having a knock down, drag out argument with her then scooping her up into his arms and releasing all that frustration in the bedroom. She would let loose then, he knew it instinctively. She would be uninhibited, passionate and seductive. His head pounded as the blood rushed from there to his groin. She would be magnificent.
“Are you not interested because you dislike me or because you dislike your stepmother?”
She gasped as if he’d struck her and took a step back.
He instinctively reached for her, catching her elbow before she could pull away. “Camille, I’m just trying to have an intelligent conversation about this deal with you. In all fairness you really haven’t given a valid reason for not wanting this deal to go through.”
“It’s my property. I don’t have to have a valid reason,” she taunted.
Adam sighed. He never worked this hard to get a woman into bed. He’d never had to. That probably made him callous and arrogant where women were concerned and up until now he hadn’t given that a second thought. But he readily admitted that Camille Davis was beginning to try his patience.
“Why don’t you tell me why you really want to hold on to this house. You have no intention of living there, so what—do you want it to be like some sort of shrine to your father’s memory?”
She did pull away from him then. “You don’t know anything about me or my father. You’re just used to getting your way. Well, it’s not going to happen this time.”
Before Adam could say another word he was watching the enticing sway of her hips as she walked out of the restaurant. Damn, that woman infuriated him. And made him hard as hell.
Chapter 2
“So who is she?” Trenton Donovan asked gruffly.
Adam shifted on the couch. They were in his oldest brother, Linc’s office, on the top floor of the Gramercy Casino. Max had obviously called this little meeting and so was sitting in one of the deep leather chairs across the room while Trent stood near the window, his hands thrust into his pockets as he glared at Adam. Linc was sitting behind his desk being uncharacteristically quiet. But then, Adam sighed, he’d only been in here for about five minutes.
After being left standing like a fool in the middle of the restaurant Adam had ditched the idea of returning to his condo on the outskirts of Vegas and decided to get a room at the hotel. Of course he had no difficulty getting one and as he’d retrieved his key from the clerk at the front desk he’d also received a message to come to Linc’s office immediately.
So that’s why he was here. Not by any choice of his own because if he had his choice he’d have been in a nice comfy room with a big bed and a beautiful, if high-strung, woman.
With that thought he frowned oblivious to his audience’s