Michelle Celmer - Once Upon A Kiss... - The Cinderella Act / Princess in the Making / Temporarily His Princess

He frowned slightly, and curiosity appeared in his eyes. “This sounds mysterious.” He glanced at the door. She took that as an invitation and quickly shut it.

“She’s been up in the attic with your mom and me, looking through all the old stuff.” She paused, wondering how to say this next part.

“I know. That’s why she’s here, ostensibly.” He leaned toward her slightly, and she felt the increased closeness almost like a hug. Which was ridiculous, since she was still several feet away.

“It probably isn’t my place to say anything, but I couldn’t keep quiet because I know the house and everything in it is important to you.”

He regarded her with no expression. Probably thought she was nuts. Maybe it would be better if she didn’t say anything. In some ways it was none of her business. On the other hand she was the housekeeper, which, taken literally, could mean she was responsible for keeping the house from being looted. “Vicki’s been taking detailed notes on a lot of the items in the attic, and I’ve seen her researching them on her laptop.”

“She’s an antique dealer.”

“I know. I’ve also seen her looking at auctions on eBay. I think she might be planning to sell some of the items.”

“Perhaps my mom has asked her to. There’s way too much junk up there.”

She shook her head. “I heard her bring the idea up, and your mom said we should put everything back where we found it, to save it for your children.” She didn’t mention her own part in helping Katherine to that decision.

“Typical.” He shook his head. “Why does everyone have to have children? Would it be such a tragedy if this branch of the Drummonds died out with me? Put it all on eBay. That’s what I say.” A wry smile played about his lips. “But I do appreciate you worrying about the fate of our old junk. It’s very thoughtful.”

Was he making fun of her? He certainly didn’t seem to care whether Vicki took everything home in her suitcase. Maybe he really didn’t want children and everything in the house would end up at an auctioneer one day. “You should have children.”

She gasped when she heard her own words on the air. Sinclair sat up slightly in his chair, startled. “I can see you feel strongly about it. May I ask why?” Humor glittered in the depths of his eyes.

She wished she could melt into the Persian carpet. Because you’d be a great father. Strict, but kind. Because children would bring out the child buried inside you . “I don’t know. It would be a waste, that’s all. And your mom would be very disappointed.”

“She’ll survive. I don’t live my life to please other people.”

“Don’t you want children?” Why did she keep digging herself further into this hole? Sheer burning curiosity drove her to ask.

“I used to, once.” He looked up at the window. Then his brow furrowed. “But I don’t intend to be a single father and apparently there isn’t a woman alive who can put up with me.”

“That’s not true.” Her heart squeezed. Did he really feel so totally unlovable? “You just haven’t met the right person yet.” The light played in his dark hair and across his bold cheekbones. If only she could tell him that he had met the right person and she was standing here in front of him.

But he’d told her to forget their magical afternoon ever happened. He wasn’t interested in her. He’d lost control for a short while, and now that his sanity was back he wanted nothing from her. Well, other than freshly laundered sheets and homemade dinners.

His brow had furrowed slightly and an odd expression played across his sensual mouth. “Maybe you’re right.” He looked away sharply. “I don’t know.”

Tension thickened in the air. Her fault. She’d come in here and started this far-too-personal conversation after accusing one of his old friends of fraud. She’d be lucky if they didn’t fire her. “I’d better go make dinner.”

“Yes, you’d better.” That glint of amusement twinkled in his eyes again. “Before you make any more rash and unsettling statements.”

Something hovered between them. Unspoken words. Feelings that weren’t supposed to be felt. At least she felt them. Maybe he just wished she’d leave him in peace.

She turned and hurried for the door before she could make things worse.

During dinner, conversation turned to an upcoming dance to be held by a music mogul celebrating his twentieth wedding anniversary.

“We ran into his wife, Jess, at the nursery today.” Katherine almost shone with excitement. “She was looking at floral arrangements for the centerpieces. Apparently everyone up this end of Long Island is invited, and when I told her Vicki was staying she insisted that she come with Sinclair. Oh, it will be sensational. I wish I was feeling strong enough to come. I remember the party they gave to celebrate their son’s graduation—an entire Russian ballet company performed and there were a hundred black swans swimming on that big lake behind their conservatory. Vicki will need something fabulous to wear.”

Annie disappeared back into the kitchen, carrying the dishes from the main course of swordfish steaks with spinach sautéed in sesame oil. She did feel a little like Cinderella right now. Everyone would be going to the ball, and it wouldn’t even cross their minds that she might be sad about not being invited.

She returned with freshly made peach pie and a jug of thick cream.

“We’ll have to go into the city. A trip to Madison Avenue is definitely in order.” Katherine looked like she was ready to leap out of her chair and hail a cab right now.

“I’m not so sure.” Vicki looked oddly hesitant. “I probably have something I can wear.”

“But darling, this is the perfect occasion for a big splurge. I saw this amazing purple dress at Fendi when I was in visiting my doctor. It would look so striking with your complexion.”

“Oh, I don’t know. Sinclair, are you going to buy yourself a shiny new dinner jacket?”

“God, no.” Katherine spoke for him. “He’d wear antiques from his father’s closet if I let him. I’ll make sure he looks presentable.” She flashed him an indulgent smile, which he ignored.

“You’ve given me an idea.” Vicki paused, cream jug in her hand. “Well, maybe it’s crazy.”

“What?” Katherine leaned forward.

“Those dresses you found up in the attic, before I arrived. Maybe I could wear one of those.”

Annie froze in the doorway where she stood with a tray of brandy snaps. Her heart crumpled at the thought of Vicki swanning through the house wearing that peacock-blue dress that had totally deprived Sinclair of his sanity.

“What a marvelous idea. If they don’t fit we could always get one altered. But you’re so slim you could wear anything and look good. They’re all hanging in the spare bedroom downstairs, for reasons beyond my comprehension. There’s a blue one in there that’s stunning. It looks like Thai silk, with a glorious shimmer.”

Annie glanced at Sinclair, who picked up his wineglass and took a gulp of the white wine.

She slunk back into the kitchen. This must be some kind of lesson in humility. Now she’d have to see Vicki wearing the dress to a party the way its maker must have intended. Her donning it, even for a few minutes, was a foolish mistake that continued to have humiliating repercussions.

“Let’s go look at them now, before dessert.” Katherine rose from her chair. “It’ll be fun. Annie, do come with us. You can help us move them somewhere more sensible.”

She wanted to make some excuse about needing to decant the ice cream but her brain wasn’t fast enough. “Okay.” She followed mutely as they walked down the hallway to the spare bedroom with its big walnut wardrobe.