Cinderella on His Doorstep / Accidentally Expecting!. Rebecca Winters
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in momentum.
“My father gave his favorite screen writer some ideas and they collaborated on the script for this wartime film. Your château and grounds could have been made for it. For some time I’ve had the feeling this is the most important project he’s ever taken on.”
He folded his arms. “Can you tell me about it, or is it a secret?”
“A secret? No.” After a pause. “The film is filled with the kind of angst my father is best known for.” He heard her breathe in deeply. “Does that explanation help?”
“About the setting, yes, but I’m curious about the story itself.”
She gave a gentle shrug of her shoulders. “That’s for my father to decide. I don’t think he knows it all yet.” As far as Alex was concerned, she was being evasive for a reason. “Dad’s had a mind block lately. It’s made him more irritable than usual. It will take settling into it here for those creative juices to flow again. But to give you a specific answer to your question, his films always leave the audience asking more questions.”
That was the truth, but she was holding back from him and that made him more curious than ever. Evidently she knew better than to give too much away. Was that because her father wouldn’t like it? “Why do you think he came up with this particular story?”
“How does any author come up with an idea? They see something, hear something that arouses their interest and a kernel of an idea starts to form.”
She angled her head toward him. “Part of it could be the guilt he personally feels for his country’s compliance with the enemy in the first days of World War II. Another part might be that deep down he still misses mother and wishes he’d had a son instead of ‘moi.’”
She’d said it with a smile, but Alex felt the words like a blow to the gut. He’d heard emptiness, sadness in that last remark. It made him want to comfort her. “Still, I have my uses. Thanks to you, I found this for him.” She spread her hands, as if encompassing the entire château. “Heaven sent.”
Alex swallowed hard. “For me, too.”
“I’m happy if it helps you. I bet your mother is, too.”
She kept surprising him. “You believe in heaven, Dana?”
“Yes. Don’t you?”
“After this discussion, I want to.”
A faint blush filled her cheeks. “I’m afraid I’ve rattled on too long and have kept you from your work. Please go ahead and do whatever you were doing. If it’s all right, I’ll just wander around here for a little while before I take a nap. I picked up a sleeping bag in Angers and brought it with me.”
Why would she do that? “If you’re that exhausted, I’ll call the Hermitage and tell them to get your room ready now.”
“No doubt they’d make concessions for you, but I’m not staying there, so it’s not necessary. Thank you anyway.”
Alex rubbed the back of his neck in an unconscious gesture. “Paul told me he would arrange rooms there for you and your father.”
“He already has, but while I’m in France I intend to be on my own most of the time. After everyone goes home at the end of the day’s shoot, I plan to stay right here where I can have the whole château to myself.”
An angry laugh escaped his throat. “I’m afraid that’s impossible.”
She flashed him an ingenuous smile. “Don’t worry about me. I don’t frighten easily and love being alone.”
His eyes narrowed. Dana had seemed such an innocent she’d almost fooled him. “I’m afraid you don’t understand,” he ground out. “My ad didn’t indicate the château could be used for anything but the filming.”
A long silence ensued while she digested what he’d said. “I assumed that since the company had rented the estate for the filming, it wouldn’t matter if I found myself a little spot in the château to sleep at night.” Her supple body stiffened. “My mistake, Alex. I’m glad you cleared it up before any harm was done.”
“Dana—”
She’d almost reached the front door before turning around. “Yes?”
He started toward her. “Where are you going?”
“To find me a place to stay.”
“Wouldn’t you be better off with your father?” he asked quietly.
“You want your pound of flesh, don’t you.” Her cheeks filled with angry color. “First of all, if I were seventeen I’d agree with you, but I’m going to be twenty-seven next week, slightly too long in the tooth to still be daddy’s little girl.”
His estimation of her age had been way off.
“Secondly, my father isn’t in his dotage yet. In fact, his latest love interest is one of the actresses in the film and will be sleeping with him, which makes three a crowd. When you see Saskia, you’ll understand a lot of things.” She smiled. “If my dad ever found out your impression of him, he’d have a coronary.”
Alex hadn’t seen that one coming. It knocked him sideways.
“Thirdly, while I’m in this glorious region of France, I’d like to pretend I’m an independent woman who needs to spread her own wings for a change. It must have given you an uncomfortable moment thinking I’d made you my target. Again, I apologize.”
He’d anticipated her flight and moved in time to prevent her from opening the door. Their hips brushed against each other in the process, increasing his awareness of her womanly attributes. The tension between them was palpable. She slowly backed away from him.
The last thing he’d wanted was to make an enemy of her, but that’s what he’d done. One word to her father and he could kiss this deal goodbye. The hell of it was, he couldn’t afford to lose this film studio’s business, not when he needed the money so badly. A large portion of his life’s savings combined with the modest inheritance from his father were all invested in this venture.
“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