Cinderella on His Doorstep

by Rebecca Winters

  Her chin lifted defiantly. “That was my gift. It came from my own savings, not the studio’s funds, in case you were worrying.”

  “If your father knew about this…”

  At the mention of her dad, her anger was kindled. “Do you intend to tell him?” she fired. “Go ahead. But if you think blackmail will make me change my mind, then you don’t know me at all.”

  “Dana,” his voice grated. “This isn’t the kind of thing you give someone.”

  “Well, pardon me, but I thought I just did. Some friends give cars—jewels—in the profession my father works in, I’ve seen it all. It pleased me to give you something of your mother’s history, the only tangible evidence left of a thriving estate. Where’s the romance in your soul?”

  His hands knotted into fists. “We’re talking about your hard-earned money.”

  She shrugged her shoulders. “There’s money, and then there’s money. I’ve never had anything I wanted to spend it on before. But I should have remembered that you’re in dire straits and need to get the taxes paid, so I tell you what. You go to Monsieur Dumarre. When you get the money back, you use it to make another installment to the bank so you can get out of here sooner and pursue your career.”

  Blind with pain, she grabbed her bag and flew down the long corridor to the foyer. She didn’t need a light upstairs. Dana knew the place blindfolded. The second she reached her room, she threw herself on the bed.

  “Dana—”

  She might have known he’d be right behind her. Now she couldn’t sob into the pillow. “Come back downstairs so we can talk.”

  “I’d rather not.”

  “Then I’m coming in. Just remember I gave you a choice.”

  When she heard the door open, she sat up on the bed and turned on the flashlight next to her bed. At first glance he looked ashen-faced, but maybe it was the starkness of the light against the dark.

  Alex pulled the chair away from the writing table he’d provided earlier and sat down. He leaned forward with his hands clasped between his legs and stared at her for several tension-filled moments. “Your gift has overwhelmed me.”

  She lowered her eyes, too full of conflicted emotions to speak.

  “Dana—how can I make you understand I’ve never known generosity like yours. I’m touched beyond my ability to express what I’m feeling.”

  His sincerity caused the tightness in her chest to break up. “I guess I wanted us to know what it tasted like so much, I went overboard in your opinion. But honestly, Alex, it wasn’t that much money.”

  “How much?” he demanded quietly. “The truth.”

  “He gave me a discount as a welcome-to-Anjou gift for you. It only cost three thousand dollars. You see? Not as much as you’d imagined. It’s less than what I make a month.”

  A sound of exasperation came out of him. She wanted to reach him, but how?

  “Can’t you understand how happy it made me to find a bottle of wine that came from your vineyard? After seeing the condition it’s in now, it’s like—I don’t know—it’s like finding this amazing treasure.”

  The torment on his handsome face killed her. “There’s only one way I’d accept it,” his voice grated.

  She jumped off the bed. “I won’t let you pay me for it, so I’ll keep it for my own souvenir from France. One day I’ll open it for an important occasion a-and I’ll remember,” her voice faltered. “Now let’s forget the whole thing, because I have.” She started for the door.

  “Where do you think you’re going?” He was on his feet in an instant.

  “Down to the kitchen to throw out the rest of that awful Hochepot en boeuf.” Dana had to get out of there before she blurted what she really wanted to say—that she was in love with him, the gut-wrenching kind that went soul deep!

  Her father would call it temporary madness, but he would have to be careful because this intensity of feeling had happened to her mother after meeting the enigmatic Swede. Her world had never been the same after that, either.

  “The dishes will keep.” Alex had caught up to her near the top of the stairs. He swept her in his strong arms like she was weightless and carried her back to the turret round.

  “No, Alex—” she cried, trying to squirm out of his tight grasp. “Now you’re feeling sorry for me like I’m a little girl who’ll be all better with a peck on the cheek and a lollipop.”

  He laid her on the bed and followed her down so he half covered her with his hard-muscled body. She felt his fingers furrow into her hair, as if he loved the texture. “You don’t have any comprehension of what I’m feeling. Would that you were a little girl I could send home to your daddy. But you’re not,” he muttered in what sounded like anguish.

  “You’re a big girl I’d like to keep locked up in this tower for my pleasure.” His lips roved over her features, setting tiny fires. “Do you understand what I’m saying?”

  Her heart leaped. “Then stop tormenting me and really kiss me. I’ve been in pain since this morning when Saskia interrupted us.”

  “I’ve been in pain much longer than that,” he confessed.

  The way his mouth closed over hers produced such ecstasy, she knew nothing except that this marvelous man was creating a vortex of desire deep within her. No other feeling in the world could compare. They gave kiss for kiss, savoring the taste and feel of each other. Divine sensations held her in thrall.

  As time passed she needed to get closer and slid her hands around the back of his head, luxuriating in the freedom of touching and kissing him. He groaned against her tender throat. “You have no idea how much I want you.”

  The feel of their entwined bodies created heat, making her feverish. His caresses caused her breathing to grow shallow. “Alex—” she cried in a rapturous daze, clinging to him with helpless abandon.

  “What’s wrong?” he whispered against her swollen lips.

  Wrong?

  His hands stilled on her shoulders. “Am I frightening you? This is all too new to you, isn’t it. Tell me the truth.”

  In that second while her mind was still capable of hearing him, she felt her heart plummet to her feet. Didn’t Alex know she’d cried out his name in a state of euphoria?

  The thought came to her that he would never have asked that question if he’d considered her his equal. That was because he didn’t see her as a mature woman. It stunned her that his first impression of her still clung to him. In his eyes she was a girl disobeying her father’s wishes—a girl so impulsive she thought nothing of sleeping in a château with a stranger and worse—spending $3,000 of her money on a whim.

  Dana forgave him for that. Of course she did. She was also aware few men would have been as decent in this situation. But as long as he saw her in that light, it took away some of tonight’s joy. Maybe no man would ever take her seriously if she continued to be associated with her father. Neal had been a case in point. Slowly she removed her arms from around his neck.

  Tonight this unparalleled experience had given her a lot to think about. Though it killed her, she eased away from him. “You didn’t frighten me, but I guess if we’re being truthful, I am somewhat nervous that things have escalated so fast.”

  His handsome profile took on a chiseled cast before he got up off the bed. He stood at the end with his powerful legs slightly apart, away from the flashlight’s beam. “I made a vow I’d never cross your threshold while you stayed here. Tonight I broke it, but I swear to you it will never happen again.”

  “Alex—there’s no one to blame. We both lost our heads for a little while. It’s human. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit I enjoyed every minute of it, but as long as we’re being honest, I wish you’d tell me something.”

  His shadowed eyes swept over her in intimate appraisal, waiting.

  “Would you rather I left? Arrangements have already been made for me to stay in Saskia’s room at the Metropole.”

  The way his mouth tightened into a thin line made her shiver. “That decision is entirely up to y
ou. Meet me at the truck at seven-thirty in the morning and I’ll drive you to Angers to get your car.”

  Her heart thudded till it hurt. By asking him that question, she’d proved she was the girl he’d called her, not a woman who acted on her own. Let it be the last mistake she made. “Thank you. Good night.”

  His dark eyes impaled hers before he disappeared out the door.

  She sat on the bed for a long time pondering what to do. A girl would have a meltdown. A woman would brazen her way out of this.

  He’d told Saskia that Dana was part of his staff; therefore she’d behave like an employee from here on out. She’d fix the lunches, but beyond that she’d leave him alone until she left the château. The man didn’t have time for drama. He was in a hurry.

  At six-thirty the next morning, Alex got up to fill the truck bed with debris. Might as well take another load to the landfill on the way to Angers. When he drove around the front of the château, his pulse sped up to find Dana waiting for him. She looked sensational in white pleated pants and a mini print top of blues and greens on a white background. He’d never known a woman so appealing, all golden and fresh as a piece of summer fruit.

  “Good morning.” She said it with such a friendly demeanor, last night’s fireworks might never have happened. The minute she climbed in the cab, she brought the fragrance of strawberries with her, probably the result of her shampoo.

  “You sound rested.”

  She opened her window. “I had a wonderful sleep.”

  His fingers tightened on the steering wheel as they headed for the gate. Throughout the endless night his desire for her had never cooled. He could still taste her mouth, feel the mold of her body. Though he’d told her it was her decision about staying or leaving, he hadn’t meant it. The château wouldn’t be the same without her in it. He’d made up his mind to do whatever was necessary to keep her sleeping on the premises.

  “When I came down to the kitchen a few minutes ago, I couldn’t find the wine bottle.”

  He flicked her a shuttered glance, feasting on her lovely profile. “I put it in the wine cellar for sakekeeping.”

  She flashed him an enticing smile. “That’s where it should have been all along. Thank you.”

  Something was going on in that unpredictable brain of hers. Silence stretched between them. Before they left the landfill he said, “How would you like to tour Angers castle this morning? There won’t be as many tourists this early. We’ll escape the worst of the heat.”

  To his surprise she gave a caustic laugh that didn’t settle well. “Do you know you’re so much like my father at times, it’s uncanny?”

  His black brows met together in disbelief. “How did he get into this conversation?”

  “When has he ever not been a part of it in some way or other? Last night you lit in to me. This morning you’re trying to placate me. That has been his modus operandi since I was a child. Throw Dana a tidbit and she’ll forget.”

  He gunned the engine and streaked out of there until they were beyond the view of any workers. Then he slammed on the brakes beneath the trees. Turning to her, he slid his arm along the back of the seat and encircled her warm nape with his hand. He could feel her pulse quicken beneath his fingers.

  “I haven’t forgotten one second of what happened last night and know in my gut you haven’t, either.” Unable to stop himself, he kissed her neck, knowing her skin smelled that sweet all over. “The fact is, I want you to stay at the château and was hoping to tell you that while we took a little time off to play. You were right about Jack being a dull boy.”

  “I wasn’t planning to leave,” she stated quietly, jolting him in that inimicable way of hers. “As for Jack, it’s a well-known secret dull boys are usually the most successful because they never waiver from their goal.”

  Dana understood him so well, it hurt.

  “Knowing how anxious you are to get the estate ready for the public, you won’t be doing either of us a favor by taking me through that monster castle. I have my own plans for today. Thank you anyway.”

  The desire to drag her off to an undisclosed location and kiss her until she cried for mercy was trumped only by the knowledge that she wasn’t going to run away from him yet. He bit her earlobe gently before separating himself from her so he could start up the engine.

  Neither of them spoke for the rest of the drive into town. He didn’t mind. For now it was enough to know she didn’t want to leave the château. She loved everything about it including his damn grapes lying dormant inside those gnarled trunks.

  It seemed the only drawback in the scenario was Alex.

  “There’s my car.” Her voice jerked him from his torturous thoughts. He maneuvered his truck through the hectic morning traffic and pulled into a parking spot near hers.

  She alighted before he could help her down. “You didn’t need to get out,” she told him as he followed her to the car.

  “I’m the one who told you to leave it here overnight. Just looking to make sure everything works.” He watched her get in, then shut the door for her. After checking the tires, he told her to pop the trunk. “Everything looks good.”

  She started the engine. “Thanks for driving me in. See you later.” As she backed out and drove off, he waved until he couldn’t see her golden head anymore. Turning sharply on his heel, he walked two blocks to the post office to collect his mail.

  There were a few bills and letters from his colleagues in Bali, as well as his contacts in Louisiana. He would read them when he got back on the estate. As he finished cleaning out his mailbox, a postcard fell on the floor. He picked it up. The picture of Sanur gave away the name of the sender.

  Martan—thank you for the postcard you sent with the big castle on it. One day I want to see it and the house your grandfather left you. I am working hard and am saving my money to come and visit. Maybe work for you one day in the States? Are the French women as hot as they say? How many have you had so far? Write soon, Sapto.

  A smile broke out on Alex’s face. He walked around the corner to a tourist shop where he bought a postcard with a photograph of the Château de Chenonceau, Dana’s favorite. When he returned to the post office, he wrote a message on the back.

  Hey, Sapto—I liked your card. It brought back many memories. I’m glad you’re working so hard. It’ll pay off. Maybe one day we’ll see each other again. The French women are definitely hot, but they can’t compare to the American woman staying at my château. I have plans for this one. Alex wrote the rest of his thoughts about her in Balinese and signed it, A. Martin.

  After affixing a stamp, he mailed it, then left for home in his truck. Halfway to the estate it struck him that for the first time since being in France, he thought of it as home. Something was happening to him. Something profound.

  Deep in thought about everything that had transpired last night, he almost didn’t hear his cell phone in time to answer it. Hoping it was Dana, he almost said her name when he clicked on.

  “Monsieur Martin?” a man asked in French. Disappointment swamped him.

  “Oui?”

  “This is Honore Dumarre. Perhaps Mademoiselle Lofgren hasn’t had a chance to tell you about our meeting yesterday.”

  Alex straightened in his seat. Dana had warned him the other man would be calling, but he hadn’t expected it this soon. “As a matter of fact, she presented me with an 1892 bottle of Belles Fleurs wine from your cellar last night.”

  The man chuckled. “Technically it wasn’t from my wine cellar. I was just the keeper of it. Now I know why I held on to this one. It’s a great honor for me to know it is now in the hands of the rightful owner. Soyez le bien venu, monsieur. I am so pleased to know a Fleury is back among us after all these years.”

  Something in Monsieur Dumarre’s nature caused Alex to warm to him. “Thank you, monsieur. I’m touched by your words. As you can imagine, it was such an incredible gift, I’m still overcome. I’d intended to phone you before the day was out and thank you for partin
g with it.”

  “Mademoiselle Lofgren was so excited to give it to you, I couldn’t have done anything else. Once in a while life offers us something beyond price. I’m not only thinking about the wine, but the beautiful young woman herself. Her soul shines right out of those heavenly blue eyes, doesn’t it? What a prize she is.”

  “Yes,” was all Alex could say because emotion had caught up to him.

  “To think she’s Jan Lofgren’s daughter. His films are sheer genius.”

  “I agree.”

  “Did she tell you I’d like to host a party?” That was news. Dana probably would have told him if he’d given her half the chance. “All your vintner neighbors will want to meet you. I plan to invite the Lofgrens, too, and hope they can come.”

  “Thank you, Monsieur Dumarre. I’m sure it will please them to be included.”

  “Excellent. Call me Honore. My wife, Denise, and I were thinking Saturday, the twenty-eighth? Say seven o’clock? Would that be convenient?”

  “I’ll look forward to it with great pleasure. And please, call me Alex.”

  “Bon. It will be an evening everyone will look forward to.”

  “You’re very kind.”

  “Not at all. À bientôt, Alex.”

  “À la prochaine, Honore.”

  On Monday morning Dana left the château early to meet with her father. She’d called him ahead of time to let him know she was coming. When she knocked on the hotel room door, he answered in his robe still drinking a cup of coffee.

  “Hi, Dad.” She moved inside, taking a glance around his messy room. “I’m here to run you to the hospital in Angers for your blood check. While I’m waiting for you, I’ll do your wash with mine.” She’d brought a laundry bag with her and started gathering up his things.

  “I thought you’d forgotten.”

  How did he dare say that to her? It just proved how unconscious he was where she was concerned. “Have I ever forgotten anything?”