Cinderella on His Doorstep / Accidentally Expecting!: Cinderella on His Doorstep

“Dana—it never occurred to me you might want to stay in the château.”

She refused to look at him. “You’re not a dreamer.”

“You’d be surprised, but that’s not the point.” Trying to gauge what her reaction would be he said, “I live here.”

Her gaze flew to his. By the stunned look in those blue depths, he knew instinctively his revelation had come as a surprise.

“The concierge at the Hermitage intimated you lived somewhere in the vicinity. To me that ruled out the château…” Her voice trailed.

Alex’s first impression of the French woman in Chanzeaux had been right. She was a busybody. When Dana’s father arrived and she learned of his importance, it would bring a flood of unwanted curiosity seekers to the estate. His mouth thinned in irritation. He would have to fit the gate with an electronic locking device to give the film company privacy while they were working. Today, if possible.

“I’m afraid there’s been a lot of speculation about me since I flew in from Bali.”

“Bali—What were you doing there?”

“My work. I’m an agricultural engineer.”

She rubbed her palms against womanly hips, as if she didn’t know what to do with them. “Are you taking a sabbatical of sorts then?”

“No. I resigned in order to settle mother’s estate before leaving for the States.”

Following his remark she said, “Then you’re only in France temporarily.”

“Very temporarily, even if my business venture should succeed—” he drawled.

“What is your plan exactly?”

“To restore the château and grounds to a point that the estate can be put on display alongside the others in the area. Millions of tourists pour into France each year willing to pay entry fees for a look around. With a couple of full-time caretakers, it could prove to be a smart business investment, leaving me free to pursue my career overseas.”

Her expression had undergone a subtle change he couldn’t decipher. “It’s an ambitious undertaking, but with your work ethic I’m sure you’ll make it happen.” She glanced at her watch. “I need to go and let you get back to your work.”

“Not so fast.” He looked around before his gaze centered on her once more. “It does seem unconscionable not to let you live here when this was originally built to house several dozen people. Under the circumstances I insist you stay, but it means we share the château.”

Chapter Three

INSIST?

The provocative statement was backed by a steel tone, making her tremble. It seemed Alex Martin had changed his mind and was willing to let her stay here. Not willing, she amended. Determined all of a sudden.

Why?

Maybe like Neal he could see himself making a lot more money to save the château if he starred in a film. He was gorgeous enough to be a top box office draw, yet the mere idea that he saw Dana as a stepping stone to influence her father made her so ill, she shuddered.

If she was wrong about his motive, then for the life of her she couldn’t think what the reason might be. The man could have any woman he wanted.

Alex’s dark brows knit together. “Why so reticent now?”

The question coming from his compelling mouth was like a challenge wrapped up in a deceptively silky voice. It curled around Dana’s insides down to her toes. If she didn’t have to think about it, the idea of being under the same roof with Alex Martin for the next three weeks was so thrilling, she was ready to jump out of her skin.

But she did have to think about it for all the usual reasons of propriety, common sense and self-preservation—self-preservation especially because he could be moody and overbearing like her father, the very thing she’d wanted to get away from for a while.

And then there were the unusual reasons, like the fact that her father was coming here to direct the most important film of his career on her say-so alone. If she made a misstep with Alex now and he decided to renege on the contract, how would she explain it to her dad, let alone the rest of the company?

Money had changed hands. Too much was at stake on both men’s parts for there to be trouble at this stage because of her.

When she’d declared that she wanted to be an independent woman and spread her own wings, she’d set herself up to be taken at her word and Alex had acted on it. He was probably laughing at her naïveté right now while he waited to hear that she’d changed her mind and didn’t want to stay here after all.

The stakes were too high for her to turn this into a battle. An inner voice warned her there was wisdom in going along with him. Dana knew nothing like this would ever come her way again. Why not take him up on it? She wouldn’t be human if she didn’t avail herself of such an opportunity.

“Thank you, Alex. I’ll do my best not to get underfoot.” From now on she could fade into the shadows and be like Diane de Poitiers, Henri II’s mistress at Chenonceau, who adored the château and oversaw the plantings of the flower and vegetable gardens.

Dana would glut herself on the history of Belles Fleurs, but wherever she slept, she would make certain it wasn’t anywhere near Alex. When she’d called his château small, she’d meant it hadn’t been built on the scale of Chambord with its 440 rooms, but it was big enough for her to get lost in.

An odd gleam in his dark eyes was the only sign that her answer had surprised him. “With that settled, shall we go upstairs? You can have your pick of any room on the second floor.”

By tacit agreement they both started toward the magnificent staircase. “How many are there?”

“Six.”

While she was wondering where his room was located, he read her mind. “For the time being I’ve made the petit salon off the main foyer into a combined bedroom and office for me.”

They’d be a floor apart. That was good. Of course when she wanted to go out for any reason, he’d be aware of her leaving through the front door, that is if and when he was around. After a few days of becoming aware of his routine, she’d make sure not to disturb him any more than she could help.

When they reached the long vestibule, she was overwhelmed by what she saw. “This is similar to the rib-vaulting at Chenonceau! It’s utterly incredible!”

Alex nodded. “On a much smaller scale of course.” She was conscious of his tall, hard-muscled frame as he continued walking to one end of the corridor on those long, powerful legs. “Let’s start with the bedroom in the turret round.”

“Oh—” she cried the second he opened the door and she took everything in. “This is the one I want!”

A smile broke the corner of his sensuous mouth. “You’re sure? You haven’t seen the others yet. The turret round on the other end has a fireplace.”

“I’m positive. Look at these!” There were fleur-de-lis designs placed at random in the inlaid wood flooring. She got down on her knees to examine them.

“If the original designer of this château could see a modern-day woman like you studying his intricate workmanship this closely, he would be delighted by the sight.”

“Go ahead and mock me,” she said with a laugh before getting to her feet. For the next few minutes she threw her head back to study the cross-beamed ceiling. There were little white enamel ovals rimmed in gold placed every so often in the wood depicting flowers and various forest creatures. “How did they do that? How did they do any of this?”

She darted to the window that needed washing inside and out, but at least it wasn’t broken. The entire room would require a good scrubbing to get rid of layers of accumulated dust. Even so there was a fabulous view of the countryside and a certain enchanted feel about the room. Eventually she turned to him. “Do you think this might have been your mother’s?”

Her question seemed to make him more pensive and probably brought him pain. She wished she’d caught herself before blurting it out.

“My mother lived here until her early twenties. I have no idea which bedroom she occupied, but it wouldn’t surprise me if it had been this one. The view of the Layon from the window at this angle is surreal.”

“I noticed,” Dana murmured. “I’m glad she met your father so she wasn’t so lonely anymore.”

Alex shifted his weight. “Lonely is an interesting choice of words.”

“She would have been, wouldn’t she? To know her father preferred her brother?”