by A. C. Arthur
He stared at her incredulously. “Come again?”
Adam had no idea how hard this was for her. It was one thing to know her limitations, to be forced to live with them her whole life. It was something else entirely to admit them to someone else. Especially someone like him.
“I know that I’m not the type of woman you usually go for. And I can’t change that. As a matter of fact, I don’t want to change it. I’m…I’m okay with who I am. And I don’t do one-night stands. So it’s best if you just go and we just concentrate on our business together from this point on.” Damn, that hurt more than she’d imagined.
Adam didn’t know what to say or do. He’d yelled at her once and she’d almost jumped out of her skin. He’d never been a bully and didn’t intend to start now. But that didn’t stop the boiling rage simmering inside of him. “You have no idea what type of woman I go for,” he said through clenched teeth. Damn, but he was tired of people assuming they knew him. Most of the time it was just the press printing their lies to sell more papers or magazines but he’d learned how to brush that off. Generally women had preconceived ideas about who he was and what he wanted but he’d never let that bother him, never cared because he knew their time was limited. But this time, this woman… He was outraged.
“Adam,” she began.
“No. Don’t say another word. I’m a grown man and I know who and what I want. I don’t have a type or a particular brand in mind when I look for a woman. I tend to look for someone I enjoy spending time with. But I guess that’s just beyond what my personality profile told you.”
He was the one pacing now, unable to stop the incessant movement for fear of what he’d do if he was forced to stand still. “I didn’t prejudge you, Camille, and I’m pissed off that you would do something like that to me.”
“I didn’t prejudge you. It’s common knowledge. You’re a rich, handsome, eligible bachelor. You enjoy women. Do you deny that?”
“No, I don’t but—”
She cut him off. “There’s no but. I know that I’m not slim and trim and sexy in a bikini. I know that I’m probably not as outgoing as the other women you’ve dated and that’s how I came to the conclusion that I wasn’t your type. So that wasn’t any prejudgment. That was just dealing with the facts.”
“You are not that shallow. I know you’re not.”
“I am what I am, Adam. And therein lies the problem,” she said simply and moved toward the door.
He opened his mouth to say something but she stopped him by opening the door and muttering, “Good night, Adam.”
Because he had enough discipline to know when he’d reached his limit Adam moved toward the door, determined not to say another word or even look at her again for fear of blowing up completely. But he did stop in front of her. He kept his gaze forward as he took a deep breath, her scent permanently embedding itself in his mind. “You underestimate yourself and you underestimate me.”
Chapter 7
Camille lay in her bed, eyes closed, covers drawn to her chest, unable to sleep. Upon Adam’s departure she’d felt like crying, then she’d thought better of that useless pastime and resorted to anger. Tossing her clothes into a corner of her room, yanking her sheets down, then thrusting herself onto the mattress while her heart hammered in her chest.
He was an idiot if he couldn’t see the obvious. But was she an even bigger idiot for pointing it out to him? What woman in her right mind turned Adam Donovan away? Well, she’d never professed to being in her right mind.
Instead she’d resigned herself to her fate and tossed and turned for the next hour or so hoping that morning would hurry up and come to give her a reason to put this dreadful night behind her.
On her nightstand the phone rang and she jumped. It was almost three in the morning. She rolled over and grabbed the phone before its shrill ringing could sound again. “Hello?”
“I want to apologize.”
Camille sank back against her pillows, not believing the voice she was hearing on the other end. “Adam?”
“I shouldn’t have gotten upset and I shouldn’t have tried to push you to do something you obviously weren’t ready for. I wasn’t raised that way,” he said quietly.
“Where are you?”
“I’m at a hotel.”
There was a moment of silence, which Camille desperately wanted to fill. “Adam, I guess I was a bit out of line in the way I said what I needed to say. But it doesn’t stop it from being true.”
“Look, I can’t tell you what to believe. I can only attest to what I know is true for me. I don’t look for skinny women who look good in a bikini.” He gave a wry chuckle. “I’m not saying I’m opposed to them, but they are not a prerequisite in my book.
“I like smart women, independent women and women who understand my warped sense of humor,” he continued.
“You have a sense of humor?”
“My point exactly.” He sighed. “I know that we are business partners but there’s something more going on between us. I’m sure you know that already and I can’t force you to act on it. But don’t let your excuse for pushing me away be something as ludicrous as you not being my type. Because if I did have a type—” he paused “—you would undoubtedly be it.”
Camille didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know what to believe. He didn’t have to call her. He could have gone to his hotel and gone to bed. He could return to Las Vegas and never give her another thought, outside of the house deal. So why was he calling her? Why was he telling her all this?
“I’ve always wondered what it felt like to be svelte and tall and thin like the rest of the models I employ. They look so happy when they slip into the beautiful clothes and smile for the cameras.”
“Don’t be fooled, they’re not happy. They’re hungry.”
Camille laughed.
“I’m serious. I dated a model before and she starved herself to the point that I was sick for her. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side, Camille. Besides, you’re beautiful just as you are. And for the record, you’re not a day away from obesity so stop acting that way.”
“You don’t understand,” she tried to say.
“I understand that society puts a lot of pressure on women to be a certain size, a certain look. I understand that as a woman in the fashion industry you would want to concede to those standards. It’s just not necessary. I like you just the way you are, just as I’m sure a lot of other people do. But none of that means anything if you don’t like yourself.”
She remained quiet.
“Do you like yourself? When you look into a mirror what is it that you see? And does that please you?”
Camille thought about his question and figured she could probably end this conversation without ever answering him, but she decided not to take that route. “Each morning I wake up and take a shower. I look into the mirror and I see a woman who has had a hard childhood, who has lost a very important part of her life and who has built a wonderfully successful business. It’s not until I step out of my apartment and into the real world that I see something else. No, I don’t think I’m obese and I know that compared to others my plight is not so bad but there are some days when I’m just so uncomfortable. You have no idea what it’s like to hear every day for years that you aren’t good enough, you aren’t pretty enough or dainty enough. It takes its toll.”
“She did that to you.” It was a statement from him, not a question.
Camille sighed. “I can’t continue to blame her. My therapist told me that. I am who I am now because of me. And I’m generally not obsessive about my weight and my looks but when a guy like you… I mean, when a man shows interest in me when I know there are hundreds of other women he could be looking at, it’s a bit unbelievable.”
“Again, you underestimate yourself. I’m no saint, Camille. Not by a long shot. But, yes, I am interested in you, all of you. I like your smile because I’ve never seen one so genuinely pretty before. And I like your ambition because it matche
s my own. I really like your curves because you have no idea what it does to me to see you walk in or out of a room.”
She laughed because he sounded so tortured by that statement. “You know what I like about you, Adam?”
“What’s that?”
“I like that you get me. You seem to know what I’m feeling or what I’m going through before I’ve even figured it out. Nobody’s ever done that before. Well, except for Dana but that’s because she’s nosy and she’s like a sister to me.”
“I wish I was still there with you,” he said out of the blue.
Pulling her covers around her tightly Camille let his words sink in, then responded, “I wish you were, too.”
MILLIONAIRE PLAYBOY SETS HIS SIGHTS
ON LOCAL FASHION DIVA
That was the headline in Saturday’s edition of the Times. Camille had just finished the article when her phone rang.
“Hello?”
“Have you seen it?” Dana asked immediately.
She sighed. “Yes.”
“I wanted to be the first to call you and say that it’s a bunch of bull. I think Adam really likes you. I watched him watching you last night and there didn’t seem to be another person in that room for him besides you.”
“It’s okay, Dana. I’m fine with it. I know his reputation and I’m not getting my hopes up.” But she was no longer thinking that she wasn’t good enough for him. They stayed on the phone for an hour and a half last night, well earlier this morning, and when they hung up she was as convinced as Adam was that there was something special going on between them. She’d agreed not to overanalyze what that something special was right now but to just go with the flow.
“See, that’s the thing, Camille. I think you should get your hopes up. Would a playboy summon a private jet to be here for your fashion show? Would he get up on that stage, and coerce his brother to get up on that stage, and model? I think he might be the one.”
“Just because you found your knight in shining armor doesn’t mean there’s one out there for me. However, I’m willing to explore where this might lead.”
“But there is, he’s already rescued you once,” Dana said and Camille could tell she was smiling.
“That’s cute but I’m not as romantic as you are.”
After hanging up with Dana, Camille reread the article.
The odd couple of the season, Camille Davis of CK Davis Designs, a fashion house that specializes in designs for the overweight, but has made millions in Tinsel Town from superstar clientele joins personal forces with Adam Donovan, real estate tycoon from Las Vegas. Donovan’s previous relationships run the gamut from supermodels to politician’s daughters. This is the first time his interests have appeared more rounded.
She didn’t miss the slur but didn’t want to think about it too deeply. Their telephone conversation last night proved that Adam Donovan was above the physical where women were concerned. Still, it was hard to read the thoughts that had traveled through her mind.
Tired of worrying over it Camille slipped into her spandex pants and T-shirt. Her extra bedroom had been converted into a gym because she didn’t like being on display when she worked out. She switched on the radio and decided to start with free weights. Counting cleared her mind and focused her on the matter at hand. She’d never be a size two or six, but she would be healthy and in shape, whatever size she wore.
“So you’re staying the whole weekend?” Linc asked. “Mom and Dad are due back tonight. You know she’s going to want to have dinner tomorrow night.”
“I should be back by then. I just don’t want to leave her yet.” Adam was dressed and talking to Linc on his cell phone as he left the hotel.
“Look, bro, I came to your defense yesterday when you stormed into my office demanding the jet. You said it was an emergency with this woman and I didn’t question you. But you know Trent is about to have her and that wicked stepmother of hers investigated.”
“Trent needs to find a woman to occupy his mind,” Adam quipped.
Linc chuckled. “Like you did.”
Adam didn’t respond. Camille was not his woman. But she did mean something to him. “It’s not that serious, Linc.”
“I can’t tell, Adam. You were a little defensive of her when she was here a few weeks ago and now this. Look, if you’re feeling her, that’s fine. Nobody’s saying anything bad about her. Actually, Jade and I like her a lot. But I’d be remiss if I didn’t say this—” Linc paused.
“Go ahead and say it. I wouldn’t want you to be remiss,” Adam said as he climbed into the rental car.
“She’s different. I mean, she doesn’t do battle well, you saw how she reacted when her stepmother arrived. Just take it easy with her.”
Adam and Linc spoke for another few minutes about family issues and business deals. He was just outside of Camille’s apartment when he paused to give Linc’s words some serious thought.
Camille was different, but it was that difference that attracted him to her. That and her great breasts. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her in any way but given his track record with women and his self-imposed distance rules, he wasn’t sure that if he continued to pursue her he’d be able to prevent it.
For that reason alone he should walk away. But then he remembered the article in this morning’s paper that had been so graciously included with his breakfast tray. Whatever progress he’d made in convincing her that her physical appearance had no bearing on how he felt about her may have been undone by that black-and-white print. For that reason alone, he had to see her.
He was at the door to her apartment building when his cell phone rang. “Adam Donovan.”
“Hi, Adam. I was wondering if today was a good day for us to get together.”
With two fingers Adam squeezed the bridge of his nose. “I thought we had this discussion already, Kim.”
“You can’t keep avoiding me. Sooner or later we’re going to meet up and we’re going to settle this,” she said.
“There’s nothing to settle.”
“We were going to spend the rest of our lives together.”
“And you walked away from that,” he yelled. Then he took a deep breath. “Look, this is pointless. There is nothing for us to talk about and should we happen to run into each other that fact will still hold true. Harassing me won’t change that.” He disconnected the line before she had a chance to come back with a response, although he knew that was only delaying the inevitable.
Taking the elevator up to Camille’s apartment Adam tried like hell to clear his mind of thoughts of Kim. Why had she come back, now of all times? During those first few weeks he’d waited, desperately, hoping that she’d just gotten cold feet and would come back saying she still loved him, still wanted to marry him. But she hadn’t. He’d made peace with that fact and he’d moved on, determined to never let another woman hurt him that way.
He knocked on Camille’s door, careful to keep his growing confusion from turning into anger and causing his fist to go through the door. He was about to knock again when she pulled it open.
As if his mind weren’t already reeling she had the nerve to answer the door in pants that fit her legs and thighs precisely and a T-shirt melded to her torso by sweat. For a minute he paused to consider if a sweaty woman was really sexy… Ah, yeah, definitely.
“Hey,” she said, obviously out of breath. “What are you doing here?”
“I was lonely and wanted someone to show me around L.A.,” he said, a smile tickling his lips.
She tilted her head as if she were deciding whether or not to believe him. Then she stepped to the side and let him in. “I’m sure this isn’t your first time in L.A. I know this because you’ve been to my father’s house. But I guess I’m game to being tour guide if you want.”
She closed the door once he was inside and he turned to get another look at her. “Sorry for interrupting your exercise session.” Her hair was pulled back into a ponytail, her forehead and neck still damp. An uncontroll
able urge arose and he took a step closer, needing to kiss her, to place his lips at the base of her neck, to stop that line of sweat traveling beneath the rim of her shirt.
“It’s okay. Saturday mornings are the only time I really have to myself. Just let me grab a shower and I’ll be ready.”
She attempted to walk past him but he touched her arm, pulling her back up against him. “You look really good,” he whispered.
She laughed. “You’ve got to be kidding. I’m sweaty, wearing too-tight clothes and haven’t combed my hair since I woke up.”
He touched her cheek, let his finger glide over the damp skin until he touched her lower lip. “Really good,” he repeated.
“Are you okay?” she asked suddenly. “You’re acting strange.”
“I’m fine,” he said, then leaned forward to kiss her quickly. “Go shower. I’ll wait.”
She disappeared into the other room and Adam let out a breath. What was he doing?
“I had a great time today,” Camille said honestly when they returned to her apartment at nearly ten o’clock Saturday evening.
“So did I. I’ve never had such a pretty tour guide before.” Again Adam removed the key from her door and closed it after he’d entered.
Her legs burned from all the walking they’d done but she wasn’t tired. She was pleasantly exhausted. Adam had surprised her by showing up at her door earlier today. She’d planned to go to the office after her workout to get a handle on all the orders that came in from the show, but his idea of sightseeing around L.A. sounded so much better.
They’d found a cute little bistro and had lunch, then strolled the streets window shopping and getting to know each other. Surprisingly, they had a lot in common. Each of them were workaholics and they loved chocolate ice cream. Outside of that, Camille concluded that Adam was really down to earth. There wasn’t an uppity, superior bone in his body. He liked people and had even struck up conversations with several strangers while they were in furniture stores.