The Cinderella Act

by Jennifer Lewis

“I’ve never seen a woman look more radiant, Annie.” He spoke plainly, with no hint of joking or exaggeration.

  Her bodice suddenly felt tight as her chest swelled. “I don’t think I’ve seen a man look more handsome.” She tried to laugh off his comment with an offhand one of her own.

  But Sinclair didn’t even seem to notice what she said. He frowned. “Why do you hide your beauty?”

  “I don’t hide anything. You see me every day, or at least when you’re out at the house. I’m hardly wearing a mask. That’s the real me. This is the one that Vicki decorated for the party.”

  He took a sip of his champagne. “You’re right, of course. And in fact, I think you’re even more beautiful when you’re not dressed up like a visiting princess.” His words sank in and her breath stuck in her throat. “It’s refreshing to see someone who isn’t afraid to be her natural self and not try to enhance something that’s already lovely.”

  She blinked. “I’m sure the folks at L.L. Bean will be glad to hear that.” She managed a smile. “I bet they’d hate to hear I was abandoning my familiar khakis and Oxford shirts for vintage prom dresses.”

  “Then I’m with them. I like the authentic Annie.”

  “Your mom didn’t think I’d fit in these dresses. I think the general consensus is that my usual look makes me appear shapeless.”

  “I heartily disagree, but on the other hand it does leave something to the imagination.” A tiny smile crossed his mouth. “And some surprises to discover.”

  Was he flirting with her? It certainly felt like flirting, not that she had much experience to rely on.

  “I think you’ve discovered most of my surprises.” There, she’d said it. She’d been burning to bring up that afternoon. There was no way she could get through this night pretending it had never happened.

  “I doubt that very much.” His gaze lingered on hers for a moment, heating her blood. “In fact I feel confident that I only scratched the surface.”

  The silence thickened with the suggestion that he’d like to return for another journey of discovery. Annie sucked in a breath, which wasn’t easy in her tight bodice. She’d certainly be up for a voyage into the dark and mysterious lands of Sinclair, but only if it wasn’t another accident. She wasn’t sure she could handle trying to pretend something like that never happened again.

  On the other hand, if it was mutually desired, and mutually agreed upon…

  She sipped her champagne and the bubbles tickled the tip of her tongue again. “What kind of activities do they have planned for tonight?”

  “Are you nervous?” Humor shone in his eyes.

  “A little. Especially since they want us half-cocked before we start. That sounds rather dangerous.”

  “I promise I’ll protect you.” He raised his glass and sipped, looking at her steadily over the rim.

  A sense of clear and present danger swelled in the air. “It’s entirely possible that you’re exactly what I need protecting from. After all, we didn’t need too much encouragement that one time.”

  His gaze darkened slightly. “True. Tonight I’ll be a gentleman if it kills me.”

  “Shame.” She said it boldly, not wanting him to think she wasn’t interested. She’d already gone out on a limb, so why not keep going until it snapped? Maybe the champagne was making her reckless.

  A smile played around his eyes, crinkling the skin in that way she found so adorable. “If you don’t want me to be a gentleman, I’m sure that can also be arranged.”

  “Good. I think I’d prefer a dashing rake.” Now she was flirting.

  “Is that so? In that case, let’s top off your champagne so I can more easily take advantage of you.” He gestured to a passing waiter, who readily obliged. How had she drunk more than half a glass already?

  “Sinclair, how did you sneak past me? I’ve been lying in wait for you all night.” A tall brunette materialized out of the night air and breathed in his ear. “Your mother told me you’re in town for the summer. I do hope you’ll have time to come out on my new yacht.”

  “Dara, this is Annie, Annie, Dara.” Annie thrust out a hand so that at least one of them couldn’t be accused of rudeness. Dara had barely glanced at her. Now she reluctantly gave her a limp handshake. At least Annie didn’t recognize her from any social events at the house. “I’m going to be very busy this summer. Annie has me all tied up.” He spoke with a straight face, but a hint of suggestion in his voice.

  Dara’s mouth opened like a fish. “Really.” She took a longer look at Annie. “Well, if you change your mind.” She flounced off, looking distinctly irritated.

  “That was fun.” Sinclair sipped his champagne and surveyed her with narrowed eyes.

  “You’re naughty.”

  “And enjoying it. Let’s dance.”

  It wasn’t a question. His sudden, sturdy grip around her waist swept her toward a wooden dance floor set up under an elegant canopy on the lawn. They moved through a crowd of laughing, chatting people, and handed their glasses to one of the many waiters before climbing onto the dance floor just as a song was ending. The band was a big jazz ensemble with a stunning singer. “Oh, my God, is that Natalie Cole?”

  “Probably.”

  Laughing, Annie let him pull her into his arms as the singer started into a sultry number about a broken heart. He wound one hand firmly around her and took her hand with the other, and pulled her into a dance. Her feet followed his effortlessly, as if she already knew the steps. The thundering drumbeat and mellow pulse of the saxophone flowed through her, drawing her around the dance floor as if she did this every day. She could feel the smile glowing on her face as Sinclair twirled her through the crowds, her long dress flying out around her. His gaze stayed fixed on hers the whole time, capturing her attention and daring her to look away.

  Her breaths came faster and faster as the pace of the song picked up and they swept across the floor with bold dance steps. Sinclair’s muscular hands guided her, making her feel pliable and athletic, almost fluid, moving in time to the music.

  The singer launched into an impassioned plea to her lover, begging him to come back and make her whole. Annie let herself ride on the wave of emotion her voice created among the dancers. Her heart seemed to pound in time with the bold blasts from the trumpet as the song rose to a crescendo and Sinclair held her tighter against his chest.

  Their faces grew closer, gazes still locked in a mute challenge. He was taller than her, but if he leaned down he could kiss her right on the lips.

  Her mouth started to quiver in anticipation. Surely he couldn’t tantalize her like this and not kiss her? Her entire body felt alive with desire for him, her nipples pressing relentlessly against the tight bodice of her dress. The song ended with a sudden flourish and she waited in an agony of excitement for his lips to touch hers.

  Seven

  But they didn’t.

  He pulled back from her, shoved a hand through his hair and glanced across the dance floor. Annie stood there stunned. The flowing motion had ceased so abruptly that she felt like a fish suddenly thrown up on dry sand, wondering what happened. Blinking, she stepped back, trying to regain her composure. She bumped into someone and had to turn and apologize. When she turned back, Sinclair was staring into the distance with a face like honed granite.

  “What is it?” She had to say something, if only to reassure herself that she still had the power of speech.

  “Nothing.” He frowned. “Let’s go get some air.”

  It was hard to imagine that they weren’t getting air already, since they were outdoors. As they walked across the lawn, fresh glasses of champagne in their hands, Annie realized that the “lake” was actually Long Island Sound, stretching out before them in a gleaming sheet, with the full moon glowing on its surface like an oversized silver Christmas ornament.

  “Do you think they booked this moon along with the band?”

  “Quite likely.” He looked out over the water. “Whatever they paid, it was worth the mon
ey.” He sipped his champagne, silent for a moment. He looked anything but relaxed. The buildup to their non-kiss had tightened all her muscles and sent blood flowing to places she wasn’t usually aware of. She was on edge and fired up with anticipation that had no place to go, and he looked the same.

  Should she tell him she didn’t regret their wild afternoon in bed? Right now she didn’t. It had awakened her to a new sensual side of herself.

  “What is your ambition in life, Annie?” He turned to her suddenly, fixing her with the full force of his dark gaze.

  Was this some kind of test? If she answered wrong would his estimation of her plummet even lower? “To own my own home.” She answered with the simple truth. It was a small dream, and an old-fashioned one, but it had guided her decisions ever since she’d left home at age twenty-one.

  “Why don’t you buy one?” He frowned slightly.

  She laughed. “They cost money.”

  “You earn a good salary.”

  “Yes, living in your home and taking care of it. If I moved I’d be out of a job.”

  “So your job in my house is preventing you from fulfilling your dream?”

  “Not at all. I’m saving the money so that when I’m ready I can buy it. I’m not nearly there yet, in case you’re worried about your floors going unpolished.” She meant it as a joke, but it came out almost scolding. “It’s just something I’ve always wanted. I grew up in a big house filled with people. My grandmother’s house.” Her Connecticut was very different from the one Sinclair had lived in with his ex-wife Muffy. There were no shady lawns or million-dollar mansions on her street, in one of the grimmer parts of the old industrial city. “My parents and sister still live there. It’s like a trap or something. My sister moved away when she got married and had a child, but now she’s divorced and back there again. My dad’s been on disability for decades and just watches TV all day. He could work if he wanted to, but he’d rather just sit around. My mom, on the other hand, works all day and night just to get out of the house.” She raised a brow. “That’s probably what I’d be doing, too, if I was still there. I want to have my own space where I can do what I like.”

  “And that’s your only goal?” Apparently that wasn’t enough for Sinclair Drummond. Which was hardly surprising, given all he’d already achieved in his own life.

  “I’m thinking more about my career. I’m planning to take evening classes and learn about running a business. I’d like to be self-employed eventually. Maybe even own a shop. Being a housekeeper isn’t a highly transferrable career in this day and age.” She smiled.

  “I suppose it’s not easy to find someone with more houses than they have need of.” He looked as if he was going to smile, but he didn’t. If anything he looked pained. Perhaps he’d been hoping she’d prove herself worthy of him with a grand ambition. He must be cruelly disappointed by her simple aspirations.

  “What’s your dream?” She’d never have dared to ask him if they weren’t here tonight, in the silver-edged darkness.

  Sinclair hesitated for a moment. Frowned. “I don’t know anymore. I used to want a family life, children, all that, but now I know that’s not for me.”

  “How do you know that? You’ve never tried.” Her indignation made her sound abrupt.

  “To have a family you have to be married, and my two efforts in that direction have demonstrated that I’m not a suitable husband.”

  “Maybe they weren’t suitable wives.” She cocked her chin.

  “Not for me, apparently.” He looked out over Long Island Sound. “I won’t make that same mistake again.”

  “That seems a real shame. You’re far too young to swear off relationships. Besides, you can easily afford a few more divorces.” Her joke was meant to defuse the tension, but the haunted look he gave her only ratcheted it higher. “Not that you’d ever have another, of course.”

  “I guarantee that I won’t. Since I have no intention of getting married again.” He drained his champagne glass and stared out over the dark water. “You should marry.”

  “What? Why?” His odd statement shocked her. The idea that he even had any thoughts on the subject made her uneasy.

  “You’re nurturing and thoughtful. You’d be a good mother. Someone would be very lucky to have you as a partner.” He glanced at her, then looked away again, as if something on the black-velvet horizon held his attention.

  “You make me sound rather dull. Not the kind of person who goes to elegant dances wearing a vintage dress.” She teased him. He was right, of course.

  “Not at all, because quite obviously you are the kind of person who lights up the night at an occasion like this.” His gaze swept quietly over her, stirring a flurry of arousal. His eyes lingered on her lips, which twitched involuntarily, still hungry for the kiss they never got.

  She really needed to distract herself from wanting to kiss him. Although her body thought it was a good idea, her mind knew better. It would only make her life more complicated. After all, he’d made it clear he didn’t want a relationship with her—or anyone—so where could it lead?

  Still, why did he have to have such a sensual mouth? His lips were quite full, with a graceful arch on the top, in tantalizing contrast to the masculine jut of his cheekbones and jaw, and the aristocratic profile of his nose. Frankly, his lips begged to be kissed.

  And having kissed him once, she knew just how soft and yet how firm they’d be as she pressed her lips against them.

  “So, why don’t you want to marry again?” That line of questioning should kill any hint of romance.

  He raised a brow. “Isn’t it obvious?”

  “Because your marriages failed? I’d imagine that would be off-putting, but it didn’t stop Elizabeth Taylor.” She smiled. “I bet if you found the right person you’d get it right this time.”

  I could be that right person.

  Her brain spat out the thought entirely against her will. She spat it right back. She was trying to crush her romantic aspirations toward Sinclair, not stoke them.

  “Maybe you need to figure out exactly what went wrong. Did you ever do that?” She was pretty darn curious, for sure.

  “It’s easy. We wanted different things. My first wife, Muffy…” He hesitated.

  Of course she was called Muffy. She probably wore pink twinsets with little whales embroidered on them.

  “We were together all through college and did everything together. We got married the summer after graduation, and both of our families were thrilled. We bought a lovely house in Connecticut and I thought we’d live happily ever after. Then she decided she wanted to pursue a doctorate in modern languages at Yale, then she wanted to become a professor, then she wanted to take a position at a university in Peru, and by that point we’d realized we were two different people on entirely different courses and we went our separate ways. She teaches at a university in Argentina. It seemed like she changed into a completely different person after I married her.”

  “You never considered moving away with her?”

  “No. I have my life here, my business. I don’t want to spend my time traveling around the world.” He looked out over the Sound. “I decided right then that I’d never get serious about someone who’s just starting out in life and has no idea what they want yet. One of the things I liked about Diana was that she had her own established PR business and had built a full life for herself. I was pretty confident she wasn’t going to throw it all away and move to Tibet to join a monastery.” He smiled wryly. “And that was where our problems started.”

  “She joined a monastery?” Annie’s eyes widened.

  “No. Her life was so full that there was no room for me and my life in it. I didn’t want to fly around the country each weekend going to weddings and parties and visiting friends and clients. If I didn’t do those things, I didn’t see my wife. Still, I was determined to make it work so I let her do her thing while I did mine.” He frowned. “I started to believe that was how successful marriages worked.
I didn’t have a very good example to follow. My parents led almost entirely separate lives during my childhood. That’s one of the reasons we have several houses.” He sighed. “But Diana found someone else.”

  “Oh.” She knew that already. Her infidelity had been the grounds for the divorce. “I’m sorry.”

  “So, you see, I’m too inflexible. I wasn’t willing to live their lives and they weren’t willing to live mine. Maybe I should just get a dog?” He raised an eyebrow, and humor sparkled in his eyes.

  “I don’t know. That’s a big commitment. All that walking. And what if you want to go to the beach and he wants to go to the park?” She giggled. There was something strangely intimate in Sinclair trusting her with the story of his failed relationships. She felt closer to him than ever before.

  “You’re right. And I travel a lot.”

  “You’d have to get your housekeeper to walk it.” She tilted her head. “Housekeepers can handle that kind of responsibility.”

  “Sounds like I need a housekeeper more than I need a wife.”

  “Lucky thing you already have one.” She sipped her champagne. “And apparently she’s a housekeeper with benefits.” She raised a brow.

  Sinclair’s shocked expression made her regret her little jibe. Then his face softened and the look he gave her made her stomach do a somersault. “Which proves, I suppose, that just having a housekeeper isn’t enough.” His voice was gruff, rich with all the emotion he kept buried beneath his chiseled and polished surface.

  “You’re a unique individual.” She tried to look arch, like the heroine in a regency novel. Though she wasn’t really sure what arch looked like so she probably didn’t pull it off. “You need a very special housekeeper.” Clearly she was tipsy. Or the dress had once again unleashed a part of her that dared to do things the usual Annie wouldn’t dream of.

  “What are you two doing all the way over here?” A voice beckoned to them across the lawn. “Come back to civilization for some oysters.”

  “Oysters.” Sinclair laughed. “Just what we need.”