Once Upon A Kiss...: The Cinderella Act / Princess in the Making / Temporarily His Princess. Michelle CelmerЧитать онлайн книгу.
“What are you laughing at?”
“I don’t know. Trying to dissolve the tension.” She snuck a glance at the driver, wondering if he was a rat transformed into a man by the wave of a magic wand. She didn’t want him to know she wasn’t supposed to be here. For all he knew, she was some heiress, out on a date with wealthy bachelor Sinclair Drummond.
How was he going to introduce her to people? This is Annie Sullivan, my housekeeper probably wouldn’t go over too well. This is my old friend Annie? Let me introduce you to the love of my life? Another stray giggle bubbled in her chest.
Being so close to him made her giddy. Her skirt poufed out until it was resting on the leg of his black pants, caressing his thigh. Her fingers longed to do the same. He looked so relaxed and at ease. Maybe he was happy to be here with her? Maybe he’d secretly orchestrated the whole thing, with Vicki as his accomplice, so he could take her to the ball as his date without alarming his still-weak mom?
One look at his somber face in profile, staring out the window, purged that thought from her mind. He’d probably rather be anywhere than here, with her. He hadn’t even responded to her comment about dissolving tension, perhaps preferring a sturdy barrier of angst between them to easy intimacy. She had to stay focused on getting through this evening with a minimum of humiliation and hurt, and that meant keeping her emotions firmly under wraps.
They arrived at the beachfront mansion in less than ten minutes, and the Bentley pulled into the circular driveway in a line of cars depositing their occupants in front of a large stone house. Artfully placed lighting lit up the night and sparkled off the elegant gowns and pearly smiles of the glamorous people around them. The driver helped Annie out of the car and she thanked him.
Sinclair rounded the car and took her arm in his. The increased closeness made her feel panicky. What if she couldn’t resist the urge to throw her arms around his neck and kiss him? Experience had already proven she could go completely mad in his presence.
“Don’t be nervous. They’re all just human under the crazy outfits.” Sinclair’s rough whisper in her ear startled her, then made her chuckle. How sweet of him to try to relax her.
“I may well have the craziest outfit here.” Her big, pale dress stood out amongst a lot of sleek dark gowns.
Sinclair stopped and looked at her for a moment as if contemplating whether this was true. More cars pulled in and guests swirled around them. “You’re the most stunning woman here, and you look unbelievably beautiful in that dress.”
The murmur of conversations and the purr of expensive engines faded into silence as his words took over her brain. Had he really said that, or had she imagined it? His dark eyes rested on hers for a second longer, stealing the last of her breath. For a second she thought she might fall down unconscious.
“Sinclair, darling!” Reality sucked her back into its jaws as a very tall blonde woman threw her arms around Sinclair. They bumped into Annie, almost knocking her to the ground. “And my husband was worried you wouldn’t come. I knew you’d grace us with your austere and magnificent presence.” She kissed him on both cheeks. Annie simply stared.
“And who is this damsel on your arm this evening?” The blonde peered at Annie with large, blue eyes.
“I’m pleased to be escorting the lovely Annie Sullivan.”
“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss Sullivan.” The hostess shook her hand firmly. “You look familiar. Have we met before?”
Annie hesitated. She’d likely served this woman finger sandwiches or taken her coat for hanging. But she couldn’t tell. These very rich, emaciated blonde women all looked alike after a while. “Perhaps.”
“Do head around to the tent and enjoy some drinks. Henry’s madcap festivities will be starting soon but we need everyone a little tipsy first.”
“Happy anniversary, Jessica.” Sinclair smiled. Then he took Annie’s arm again and led her along a path lit with glowing lanterns toward the rear of the house. Strains of music floated on the air, mingling with the tinkle of polite laughter. “She’s an old friend of my mom’s,” Sinclair murmured, once they were out of earshot.
“Thanks for not introducing me as your housekeeper. Though I don’t know why that would be embarrassing, since it is my job after all.”
“You’re not here as my housekeeper. You’re here as my date.” He gave her a stern look. She wasn’t sure whether to take it seriously. Was this a date with the Annie who’d writhed on the spare bed with him, or the one who was under orders to pretend it had never happened? His arm linked with hers felt proprietary, like he was taking charge of the situation, which was fine with her. She never felt Sinclair would try to take advantage of her.
What a shame.
A waiter swept toward them with a tray of champagne glasses. Sinclair took one and handed it to her. The glass was cold against her hand, in sharp contrast to her hot skin. People swirled around them on the large terrace. Hanging lanterns illuminated the night enough for them to make each other out, but the garden beyond was cloaked in velvety darkness. The unknown. A band, tucked away somewhere, launched into a swingy jazz number that made the very air throb with anticipation.
She took the tiniest sip of her champagne, and the bubbles tickled her tongue. Sinclair took a manlier drink from his glass. Muted light played across his hard features. His eyes glittered, dark and unreadable, as they rested on her face.
“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.
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