A.C. Arthur

A Cinderella Affair


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a little faint and wondered what she’d eaten today besides the partial salad at dinner. She was light-headed because she hadn’t eaten three meals like she was supposed to. That’s probably why she was going off the deep end in front of this virtual stranger.

      “Dammit, you’re shaking,” Adam said as he spun her around to face him. “What’s wrong with you? And don’t tell me nothing because I’m not going to believe it.”

      He was speaking loudly now. That deep voice that she’d initially thought was sexy was now too loud and causing a pounding in her head. “Stop,” she said slowly. “Please let me go.”

      “No. I’m not going to let you go until you tell me what’s wrong.”

      She shook her head. “Nothing. It’s nothing. Maybe you should just leave. We’ll talk tomorrow.” She tried to pull away from him but she was really shaky and the next thing she knew he was scooping her up into his arms and carrying her to the couch.

      He set her down gently and Camille closed her eyes in supreme embarrassment. Her insides were on fire and she felt the sweat beginning to prick her forehead. She thought she had these episodes under control. She hadn’t been to therapy in two months because she’d felt okay with herself. Why was this happening now, in front of him?

      “Baby, what can I do? Do you want me to call a doctor or something? Talk to me, Camille.”

      She sighed heavily. “I don’t need a doctor.”

      “Okay. Then tell me what you need. Whatever it is I’ll get it for you.”

      Camille opened her eyes and wanted desperately to tell him what it was she secretly longed for. She wanted to tell somebody, anybody who would listen to a young girl’s foolish dream. She’d had that dream for so long it had become a part of her life. And while she knew it would never come true, it was comforting just to have it.

      Adam Donovan and his warm brown eyes, his easy smile and even easier charm had made her think of that dream again. He’d made her think of all that she wanted and would never have.

      “I just need to be alone, that’s all.” She turned away from him then, burying her face in the back of the couch, hoping like hell he’d think she was a waste of time and leave her there.

      She wasn’t prepared for the gentle touch to her cheek or the soft whisper coming from him. “I won’t leave you like this. Even if you don’t tell me what’s wrong I’m going to stay until you’re feeling better.”

      Camille turned back slowly to find his face only inches from hers. He smiled and she wanted to cry at his sweetness. Instead she chuckled nervously. “You must think I’m some type of lunatic. First, I walk out on you in the restaurant and now this. I’m such a mess.”

      Adam laughed with her but continued to stroke her cheek with his fingers. “You’re definitely not an ordinary date. But I’ve seen stranger things happen.”

      “I don’t date often,” she blurted out, then watched as his eyes grew in surprise.

      “Really? I would have guessed you had a string of boyfriends back in L.A.”

      She didn’t know why she’d admitted that to him but couldn’t take the words back so instead she answered, “No boyfriends.”

      “Since how long?”

      She shrugged. “I don’t know. I think I had a date for my last showing, which was earlier this year. But that was only the one night. I didn’t see him again afterwards.”

      He looked at her quizzically. “Have you ever had a real boyfriend?”

      Feeling a little steadier, Camille struggled to sit up. Adam accommodated her by moving back and lifting her legs onto his lap as he sat down. “I’m not a puritan,” she said dismally. “I just don’t have a lot of free time.”

      “That didn’t answer my question,” he said as he slipped off her shoes and began rubbing her feet.

      Camille thought to protest then figured she would have to be out of her mind to stop sensations this good. “I had a boyfriend in college.”

      “College? That long ago, huh?”

      “I told you I don’t have a lot of time. I’m trying to get my company off the ground.”

      “Your company is doing great. I told you I had a few suits and my mother is a huge fan. My brothers were even talking about you earlier tonight.”

      His hands moved up to her calves and Camille almost moaned. “Your brothers? Why would your brothers be talking about me?”

      “My family and I are very close. So close that sometimes I can’t have a thought without them knowing it.”

      He looked a little stressed by this admission. “You sound as if that bothers you.”

      “Not really.” He shrugged. “Well, sometimes I guess it does.”

      They grew silent and then his hands rested on her thighs. “Are you ready to tell me what happened now?”

      Camille sighed. Her father used to do the same thing. He’d rock her and talk to her about nonsense and then he’d approach the problem. Why did that endear Adam Donovan to her more? “I have panic attacks sometimes. I get really worked up and then I have a meltdown. But I’m okay now.”

      Adam stared at her seriously. “You’re not all right. You haven’t had the meltdown yet.”

      Camille smiled then broke out into laughter as she watched his eyes lighten and his lips spread into a wide grin. “I guess you’re right but that’ll have to wait until I’m alone. I absolutely refuse to melt down in front of a stranger.”

      “Hey, I’m no stranger. I’ve fed you and massaged your feet. That has to make me more along the lines of a friend.”

      Camille grew silent. “I don’t need a friend.”

      Adam cupped her chin in his palm. “But you do need something, Camille. If you stop denying it maybe you’ll find it soon.”

      Camille sighed contentedly and rolled over, snuggling into the soft sheets. Her body felt rested, her mind clear as she dropped an arm over her forehead. Her internal body clock said it was time to get up so she looked to the nightstand to gauge the time. She was a habitual early riser, sometimes too early. Today, she vowed if it were one of those too-early mornings she was going to lie in this comfortable bed a little longer.

      It was nine-thirty. Camille shot straight up in the bed in horror and looked at the clock again. Surely she wasn’t seeing clearly. She never slept this late. But it was nine-thirty—in fact it was now nine thirty-three. Pushing back the sheets she scrambled off the bed and was about to make her way into the bathroom when she realized she wasn’t at home.

      The peach curtains and emerald-green carpet was a dead giveaway. She was a fan of more subtle colors and so her bedroom was decorated in shades of gray and navy. For a minute her heart beat rampantly, then memories of yesterday came flooding back and she calmed. She was in Las Vegas. She’d come here to stop Moreen from selling her father’s home. And she’d seen her dream guy again.

      She fell back on the bed remembering the way he looked in that suit, like a male model posing in a boardroom. He was gorgeous. Hell, he was beyond gorgeous, but then she’d known that the first night they’d bumped into each other. She’d also known he was not on her menu. That’s why she had resigned herself to only dreaming about him.

      But fate seemed to have another plan. Adam Donovan was no longer only in her dreams. He was now officially a thorn in her side. He should be her enemy, considering he wanted to buy her father’s house and she refused to sell it. She should probably despise him as much as she despised Moreen. But she didn’t.

      In fact, as she remembered him coming to her room last night and consoling her, she was dangerously close to liking him, a lot.

      Camille