A Cinderella Affair. A.C. Arthur

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 slow 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.”