Cinderella on His Doorstep Read online

  “Unlike your accent in English that no one could ever mistake for anything but Svenska,” Dana quipped.

  “Too true.” His hooded gaze darted back and forth between her and Alex before he addressed him. “My daughter has convinced me I won’t be disappointed with this location.”

  Alex eyed her father through veiled eyes. “Why don’t you take a walk down this road alone. The left fork will bring you to the front of the château. The door’s unlocked. Take all the time you want wandering around. I understand you’d rather do the discovering than be herded.”

  Dana’s father looked stunned. That was because Alex had taken his cue from her. Among his many qualities, he’d just shown he was a master psychologist.

  “Hand me the car keys, Dad. I’ll drive it to the front courtyard and join you in a few minutes.”

  His surprised glance switched to her before he dropped them in her hand. After nodding to Alex, he turned and began jogging.

  Once he’d disappeared around the curve in the driveway, she turned to Alex who’d started gathering up his tools. She could tell he was anxious to get back to his pruning. Considering he’d spent all day yesterday and last evening seeing to it she had a bedroom worthy of a princess to sleep in, she didn’t want to be the reason he was kept from his work any longer.

  As soon as she’d climbed in the car, she poked her head out the window. “You handled my father brilliantly, Alex. Congratulations on being one of the few.” The last thing she saw was his dark, enigmatic glance as she started the engine.

  Get going, Dana!

  Afraid if she stayed any longer she’d end up blurting out something incriminating like, did he want help? she followed the driveway while studiously avoiding looking at him through the rearview mirror.

  After pulling up next to her rental car parked in front, she gave her father a few more minutes lead before she got out. This was one time she was so confident of his positive reaction, it shocked her when he suddenly emerged from the château with a face devoid of animation. The look she’d expected to see in his eyes wasn’t there.

  “Follow me back to the Hermitage. We have to talk.”

  CHAPTER FOUR

  ALEX was up in one of the tallest trees, cutting away dead branches, when he saw both cars leave the estate. Jan Lofgren couldn’t have been on the premises more than ten minutes. That was quick, but Alex guessed he wasn’t surprised. In less time, Dana had made the decision to rent the estate on behalf of the company.

  His opinion of her father had been correct before meeting him. He personified conceit. Dana miraculously had none.

  Two hours later, Alex was coming back from the landfill after another haul when his cell phone rang. Paul Soleri was calling to make sure he and the crew could get in. They were on their way to the estate.

  The timing couldn’t be better. Once Alex could welcome them and answer any questions, he’d resume his work. The knowledge that Dana would be coming back to sleep after dark never left his mind.

  Before long a car and two minivans pulled up in the front courtyard. Alex stepped out of the château to meet Paul and the dozen light and camera technicians assembled. They all appeared delighted by what they saw. Their enthusiasm escalated as they entered the château.

  After Alex introduced himself and pointed out the location of the bathroom facilities, he told them to look around and explore all they wanted. Except for the petit salon on the main floor and the west turret round on the first floor, everything else was available to them.

  If they wanted to do any filming in the building housing the winepress or down in the wine cellar beneath the château, they were welcome. Already he could tell they were getting ideas as they left the foyer and darted from room to room checking things out.

  Paul, who was probably in his midforties, took him aside. “Has Jan been here yet?”

  “Yes. A few hours ago. He didn’t stay long, then he left with his daughter.”

  The dark blond man pursed his lips. “I’m surprised I haven’t heard from him yet.”

  “Perhaps he was tired from the long flight.”

  “That’s not like him,” he mused. “I assumed he’d be here.”

  “I have to admit I thought it strange he left in such a hurry,” Alex commented.

  “It doesn’t matter.” A pleasant smile broke out on his face. “We’ll go ahead without him.”

  “Make yourself at home, Paul. As I told you over the phone, all the furniture is stored on the third floor. Nothing’s locked. Use whatever you need.”

  He let out a long whistle. “When David gets here, he’ll be floored.”

  “David?”

  “The scriptwriter for this film. He’ll be arriving any minute with the set designer and staff from costumes and makeup. They’re all going to swoon.”

  “And that’s good?”

  “You have no idea. Since Jan wanted something unique for this segment of the film, we’ve been worried it didn’t exist. Only Dana could pull this off. She’s always had an instinct for picking the right places for him, but this time she outdid herself.

  “Don’t quote me, but she’ll end up being a more brilliant director than her father.”

  That piece of information came totally unexpected. “Is directing one of her aspirations?”

  “Yes, but the last person to know it is Jan, and that’s another good thing.”

  Alex remembered her answer when he’d asked what she did in her spare time. Nothing of report. I read and play around with cooking. Otherwise my father forgets to eat.

  “If you’ll excuse me, Paul, I have to get back to my work outside. Phone if you need me.”

  “Will do.”

  Inexplicably disturbed by what he’d learned, he strode down the hallway leading to the side entrance of the château. Dana had been emphatic about not wanting to be an actress. Now it seemed Paul had supplied him with a viable reason.

  Inherited talent happened on occasion, but he had the distinct feeling it would take uncommon courage for her to step out from Jan Lofgren’s legendary shadow. When she did break out, she’d be caught up in her own career. The thought caused Alex to grind his teeth.

  Dana found a parking space outside the Hermitage and followed her dad inside to his room. On the short drive from the château she’d prepared herself to hear that he wasn’t pleased with her find.

  She knew the place was perfect for the script, so it had to be something else he objected to. For the life of her she didn’t know what it was. That meant his mood had already turned wretched and the whole company would pay for it. If she knew Paul, he’d already assembled the crew over there to get to work.

  It would be bad enough if they had to pack up again and leave for the Paris location, but there was Alex to think about. The contract Sol had sent him was standard. There was a clause that said Alex would only receive a percentage of the money if for any reason they chose not to film there after all. That wasn’t nearly enough compensation for him.

  By the time she entered the hotel room, she was ready to fight her father. If he was going to pull out of this deal due to one of his mystical whims, then she would insist Alex be paid all the money agreed upon in good faith.

  As usual his room was a mess, but for once she didn’t start automatically straightening things. Instead she shut the door and propped her back against it. While she waited for him to speak first, she folded her arms.

  He stood next to the dresser, eyeing her while he lit up a cigarette, almost as if he were daring her to protest. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him smoke. Her mother had begged him to stop. As a concession to her, he’d cut down a lot. Dana had hoped he would find the strength to quit altogether. Unfortunately Saskia smoked, too. Dana guessed it was asking too much.

  “Tell me about Monsieur Martan.” He pronounced Alex’s last name the French way.

  A red flag went up.

  Months ago her father had started out another conversation in the same manner, only t
he subject in question had been Neal Robeson.

  So…This was about Alex—not about the suitability of the château. Relief flooded her body.

  No doubt when Alex had told her father to go ahead and explore on his own because of something Dana had confided, he hadn’t liked it. She knew her dad enjoyed being a mystery to other people, so it had made him uncomfortable to be more transparent to Alex because of her. That irritation would pass, particularly since Alex wouldn’t be around while her father worked.

  “Martin is his Australian name,” she corrected him.

  With one long exhale, the room filled with smoke. “He must want to get into acting very badly to give me free rein to his entire estate.”

  She moved away from the door. “Have you forgotten I went to him, not the other way around? He wants money very badly to restore the château and make it a viable asset before he resumes his career as an agricultural engineer.”

  Her father gave her one of those condescending nods. “So that’s what he’s told you.”

  Dana refused to let him get to her. “In this case you’re not dealing with another Neal type.”

  “No,” he muttered, “Monsieur Martan is older and has far more worldly experience. Inside that supposedly deserted château with no electricity beyond the main floor, your bedchamber has been laid out so exquisitely, it even took my breath.”

  She scoffed. “Careful, Dad. You’re beginning to make this sound like Beauty and the Beast. When I told him I was planning to stay there at night in my new sleeping bag, he insisted I have a decent bedroom.”

  He stubbed out his cigarette. “I forbid it, Dana.”

  Forbid? “I think you’ve forgotten I passed eighteen a long time ago.” As she turned to leave, she heard knocking on the door.

  “Jan? It’s Saskia. Let me in, lieveling.”

  The timing was perfect, but her father looked ready to throw something.

  “I’ll get it,” Dana volunteered before opening it.

  “Hi, Saskia. Did you have a good flight?”

  “So-so.” The brunette actress kissed her on both cheeks, a pretense at civility.

  Dana went along with to keep the peace.

  “I was just leaving. See you later, Dad.”

  Without hesitation she rushed out of the hotel. It didn’t take her long to reach the château.

  By the time she’d pulled up next to the cars and minivans parked in front, Dana realized there’d be no peace for her if her father was angry enough to renege on the contract. Alex didn’t deserve it, not to mention everyone else who would be put out. It looked like it was up to her if she didn’t want this boat to sink.

  When she found Alex and told him she wouldn’t be staying at the château after all, he would assume it was what he’d thought from the first—that she still answered to her father in everything. But as humiliating as that would be, it wouldn’t matter if it meant Alex received all his money.

  “Dana?”

  She got out of the car in time to see David hurrying toward her from the woods. He was her father’s age, a wonderful family man with a great gift for writing.

  When he caught up to her, he hugged her hard. “Bless you, Dana. Bless you, bless you for this. Words can’t describe.”

  “I know.” She’d felt the same way after seeing the château for the first time. It was how she felt now, only more so. He finally let her go, still beaming.

  David’s reaction settled it. This film was of vital importance to him, too; therefore she had no choice but to pack up her things and drive to the Hermitage. She checked her watch. It was ten to six. Pretty soon everyone would leave for the night. That’s when she’d go inside to get her things so she wouldn’t draw attention to herself.

  Until then she would walk around the back of the château to find Alex. After what he’d done for her, she owed him an explanation of why she wouldn’t be staying here after all. He would never know that because of him, she’d experienced the most exciting day and night of her entire life. A man like him was too good for her, but at least this was a memory she’d hug to herself forever.

  After telling David she’d see him later, she followed the path next to the hedge at the side of the château. It led around to the back where she hadn’t been before. To her surprise the ground, covered by a mass of tangled vegetation divided by a path, sloped gently toward the river.

  She wandered down it a few feet, marveling at the sight. Alex had meticulously cleaned out one half of it to reveal individual fruit trees. Who would have guessed what had been hidden there? In its day, the grounds would have been a showplace.

  The other part still needed to be tackled, but he was making inroads. She saw his truck piled with cleared-out vegetation. Nearby were various tools including a power saw.

  “Bonsoir, ma belle.”

  Her heart raced. “Alex?” She’d heard his deep, seductive voice, but couldn’t see him anywhere.

  “I’m in a tree!” He tossed something small and green at her feet.

  She reached for it, then looked up. A long, tall ladder had been propped against the trunk. Hidden by masses of leaves, she only saw parts of his hard-muscled physique. He brushed a few aside, allowing her a glimpse of his disarming white smile. Dana could hardly breathe.

  “Are these all apple trees?”

  “Blanc d’Hiver apples,” he asserted. “The kind that make the best tartes aux pommes. By late October I might be able to harvest a few. The trees behind you yield Anjou pears.”

  Dana shook her head. “No wonder this place is called Belles Fleurs. When their blossoms come out, the sight from the château windows will be glorious.

  “That all depends if I live long enough to make it out of this primeval forest to prune another day.”

  She chuckled. “How old are you?” She’d been dying to know.

  “Thirty-three.”

  “You’ve got years yet!”

  “Years of what?”

  “I’m sure I don’t know.” Dana didn’t want to think about his life when he moved on to other places. Other women…It would take a very special woman to capture his heart. “Tell me something—”

  “That covers a lot of territory.”

  Laughter escaped her lips. “Can you see the vineyard from that altitude?”

  “So you noticed the building housing the winepress.”

  “Yes, but I also heard that the vineyard once produced the famed Domaine Belles Fleurs label.”

  She heard the leaves rustle. In seconds he’d negotiated the ladder with swift male agility before jumping to the ground, carrying his hand saw. “Someone’s been gossiping.” He gathered the branches he’d just cut and threw them in the truck bed. “Wait, let me guess—Madame Fournier at the Hermitage.”

  Nothing got past him. “Who else?” She smiled, but he didn’t reciprocate.

  “Since my arrival, word has leaked out that a long-lost Fleury is back in Les Coteaux du Layon. It sounds like she was talking out of school again.”

  Dana had irritated him again; the last thing she’d wanted to do. “Only because I wanted to buy a bottle of the dessert wine we drank the other evening. She told me it came from the Domaine Percher, but she added that the very best Anjou wine used to come from the Domaine Belles Fleurs.”

  Alex rubbed his thumb along his lower lip. “There hasn’t been a bottle produced since 1930.”

  “That’s what she said. Naturally I was curious.”

  “Naturally,” he came back, but to her relief he sounded more playful than upset.

  “When I flew back to California, I did a little research on the Internet.”

  His eyes narrowed on her features. “What did you find out?”

  “For one thing, Dutch merchants used to favor the Belles Fleurs brand.”

  He expelled a breath. “I might as well hear the rest. Knowing Dana Lofgren, you didn’t stop there.”

  Embarrassed to be rattling on, a wave of heat washed over her. “There isn’t any more, though I wi
ll say this—I’m no connoisseur, but if the Belles Fleurs wine was as good as the kind we had at the Hermitage, then it’s the world’s loss.”

  She noticed him shift his weight. “My parents never breathed a word to me about a vineyard.”

  “You’re kidding!”

  “My father was so intent on protecting my mother from any more pain, we simply didn’t talk about her past. When the letter from the attorney for my grandfather’s estate showed up, there was no mention of a vineyard. In fact, he led me to believe the place was virtually unsalvageable.”

  “Sounds like he was hoping you would forfeit so he could buy it for a song.”

  He nodded. “I got the distinct impression he was hiding something, but didn’t understand until I saw the winepress building and eventually discovered the vineyard. No doubt he’d been bombarded by vintners throughout the Anjou region who wanted to buy it and work it, even if they couldn’t afford to purchase the château.”

  “So he thought he’d buy it first,” she theorized, “recognizing the money it could bring in.”

  “Exactly.”

  “Is it supposed to be a secret then?”

  He put his hands on his hips, unconsciously emanating a potent virility that made her tremble. “Not at all.”

  “But you wish I’d mind my own business.”

  “You misunderstand me, Dana. There’s something you don’t know. Come with me while I make this last haul and I’ll explain.”

  His invitation made it possible for her to be with him a little longer. She couldn’t ask for more than that, but he paused before his next comment ruined the moment. “Unless of course your assistance is required elsewhere.” His brow had furrowed. “Naturally your father has first call on your time.”

  Between Alex and her dad, she felt like a football being tossed back and forth. Both of them treated her like she was a child who couldn’t act for herself. She’d thought she and Alex had been communicating like two adults just now, but she’d thought wrong!

  Bristling with the heat of anger she muttered, “If that were the case, I wouldn’t have come out here, would I?”