Falling For His Unlikely Cinderella
Within a half hour they’d moved their vans in back and had made decisions of what areas to tackle first. Cami and her mother chose to clean the four bedrooms with en suite bathrooms upstairs, estimating it would take them several days. All five of them agreed to save washing the windows inside and out until their last day.
They carried their cleaning supplies upstairs. As far as Cami was concerned, this villa was a small palace. What would it be like to live here, to wake up every day to such luxury and beauty, to be able to decorate it the way you wanted and not count the cost?
Her mother shook her head as she looked around. “Just the upkeep on this place would cost a king’s ransom. I’m glad it’s someone else’s headache.”
No one could bring Cami down from the clouds faster than her practical mother. With a resigned smile, she noted that the villa had higher than normal ceilings. The owner had provided a substantial ladder. Being up high made it easy to clean with no extra stress on her heart.
Because Cami’s mother had arthritis in her shoulders, Cami insisted on cleaning those, plus the walls and moldings. That left her mom to do the hardwood floors and bathrooms. Their system worked and they got busy.
At noon they walked out to the van to eat their lunch like they always did on the job. Her mother turned on the news. They both liked to know what was going on. The radio would do when there was no TV.
After listening to the world headlines, they heard the announcement that France had lost one of the great vintners from Provence.
“Today France is in mourning over the death of le Duc Armand Fontesquieu, who will be laid to rest on Thursday on the Fontesquieu estate in Vence.”
Cami and her mother eyed each other in surprise. They’d passed the famous estate on their way here earlier this morning. What a coincidence!
“The renowned CEO and vintner died at eighty-five years of age and left a dynasty of billions to his family. The future now lies in the hands of his grandson Raoul Fontesquieu, married to Sabine Murat of the Murat industrial millions. Today it was announced he is the new CEO of the Fontesquieu empire. The grandson—”
Her mother turned it off. “I’ve heard enough.”
Cami understood what was going on in her mom’s mind. The news was a reminder that 99 percent of the population couldn’t relate to a world like the Fontesquieux or billionaires like the owner of the villa they’d been cleaning.
“Let’s go in and get started again.”
After grabbing lunch, Raoul had driven Dominic back to the office. He turned to his cousin. “Thanks for coming with me this morning. Only you could know how happy I am to be done with the secrecy about Alain. I’ve almost gone out of my mind having to keep all knowledge of him quiet leading up to the divorce.”
“Despite all the problems, you’ve carried it off.”
“But he won’t be a secret any longer. As you know, the psychiatrist advised me that Sabine was fragile after losing the baby. No heart trouble had run in her family or mine. It was devastating. That’s why I didn’t want her to hear of Alain’s existence until the divorce was finalized.”
Dominic looked at him. “You were fragile too, even though little Celine turned out to be some other man’s daughter.”
“Nevertheless I loved that baby, but it’s all behind me now.”
“Nothing could make me happier for you, Raoul.”
“My son is going to find out what it’s like to have a father who loves him and is free to give him all the attention he needs. If you and Nathalie would get busy, maybe he’ll have another little cousin to play with soon.”
Dominic grinned. “Who says we haven’t been doing our best?”
A chuckle came out of Raoul who felt a new happiness envelop him. Dominic’s wife, Nathalie, had been the one who’d united Raoul with the son he hadn’t known anything about. She and Alain’s mother, Antoinette, had been stepsisters.
When Antoinette had died of a staph infection ten days after he’d been born, it was Nathalie and her mother who’d looked after Alain in La Gaude, a town fifteen minutes from Vence. But it wasn’t until this year’s grape harvest that she’d come to the vineyard looking for the nameless father of her nephew. By a miracle she’d found Raoul!
“I’m on vacation from the office for two weeks now. When everything’s ready, I’ll resign and bring Alain home to the villa. The housecleaning service I engaged on Saturday should be busy there cleaning by now. Arlette volunteered to be in charge.”
“Where’s Alain?”
“Minerve is tending him during the day while we get the villa ready. By the time the cleaners are through at the end of the week, I’ll be leaving your old suite for good.”
“Don’t worry. We’ve moved out permanently. Nathalie and I have our own home we’re in the process of furnishing. There’s no hurry.”
“Oh, yes there is. I want nothing more to do with life at the château. Thank heaven for Minerve who’s been Alain’s nanny since he was born. She’s going to come with Arlette to help me with him during the transition. When Alain and I are on our own, I don’t want him to miss them too much.”
“It’ll all work, and Nathalie will help too, but Minerve will be difficult to replace.”
“You can say that again. I’m working with an established nanny training service. On Wednesday some women will be sent out for interviews. Arlette will help me vet them.”
“She’s the perfect one to help. I’ve got some good news too, Raoul. Arlette couldn’t be a better mother-in-law to me and has hired another pharmacist so Nathalie only has to work part-time or not at all. From now on she can help you more when you need it.”
“That’s terrific.”
“Who’s going to run the marketing while you’re on vacation?”
“I’ve been grooming our cousin Jean-Pierre to take over for good. He’s effective without being pushy. Naturally Papa doesn’t approve, but once I’ve left, Jean-Pierre will be there to save the day. I have great faith in him.”
Another smile broke out on Dominic’s face. “Then that settles it. Jean-Pierre is the right choice.”
They said goodbye and Raoul drove to the villa, eager to take another look at the size of the room he planned to turn into the nursery. He wanted to paint it and needed to estimate how much to buy.
Full of excitement, he entered the villa and bounded up the stairs, but stopped short of entering the room because his breath had caught. An absolutely beautiful woman with a stunning figure was up on the ladder cleaning. She was probably in her midtwenties and totally engaged in her work.
He couldn’t remember the last time any woman had caused him to forget what he was doing or thinking for a minute. Not since Antoinette… The same thing had happened with her. He’d taken one look and was so drawn to her, he’d approached her as if in a trance.
Now here he was again three years later, captured by the sight of this stranger. It threw him. He leaned against the doorjamb for a moment before entering.
CHAPTER TWO
AFTER LUNCH, CAMI was back to the second bedroom down the hall from the curved staircase. With her safety glasses on, plus her rubber gloves, she’d climbed the ladder she and her mom had placed on top of the drop cloth.
First, she’d removed the light fixture in the center of the room in order to clean it. Then she vacuumed the cobwebs off the ceiling and cove moldings before scrubbing everything.
As she started to climb down to wash out her flat board mop, she caught sight of a tall, black-haired male lounging against the doorjamb at the entrance. It surprised her so much it caused her to stumble. “Oh—” she cried.
Like lightning he sprang forward on those long powerful legs and saved her from landing on the hardwood floor with a bang, like the mop. “I’m sorry to have startled you,” he said in a deep voice, lowering her carefully. She felt his warm breath on her skin.
“It was my fault. Thank you.” She stepped back, marveling at his speed and embarrassed to have been that clumsy in front of him.
“I should have knocked on the bedroom door to let you know I was standing there.”
She took in the sight of this man who was probably twenty-nine or thirty, dressed in a black cashmere sweater and gray trousers. With those alive black eyes, he was so incredibly attractive, Cami struggled to gain her composure.
“I was deep in thought and probably wouldn’t have heard it. Madame Gilbert mentioned the owner would be in and out.”
He nodded. “I had something else on my mind too. This room is going to be my son’s. I was trying to think what color to paint it tomorrow.”
All the bedrooms had off-white walls with white moldings. “How old is he?” She was still trying to recover. The faint tang of the soap he used in the shower lingered.
“Alain is eighteen months.”
A father with a toddler. She wondered if he resembled his gorgeous papa. “Then you must be planning to turn this room into a nursery.”
“I was at a furniture store earlier picking out everything and fell in love with a white crib and dresser.”
That made her smile. “Is he into trucks or cars?”
A light entered his eyes. “Both. And boats.”
While Cami chuckled, trying not to study his striking masculine features through her safety glasses, Madame Gilbert appeared in the doorway.
“Raoul, the gardener is downstairs waiting to talk to you.”
“Tell him I’ll be right there.”
After she disappeared, he plucked the mop off the floor and handed it to Cami. Their hands brushed, causing an unbidden current of electricity to dart through her body. She could still feel the imprint of his hands on her arms. “Forgive me for interrupting your work.”
She shook her head. “Thank you for saving me from a crash. All I need is a broken leg.”
“Heaven forbid,” he murmured. This close he was so handsome it hurt. She’d heard that expression before, but for the first time in her life she felt the truth of it. “It was the least I could do after all your hard work. I can see differences already. We’ll definitely be seeing each other again tomorrow,” he said with a smile that made her legs go weak before leaving the bedroom.
Long after he’d gone, his smile stayed with her. Something about it haunted her, as if she’d seen it before. Her heart kept thudding. She’d forgotten it could do that.
Struggling to rein in her thoughts, she worked harder than ever, but couldn’t forget what had happened. When she’d finished everything and had cleaned up, she carried her equipment to the third bedroom and spread the drop cloth on the floor in preparation for the next day. She put her safety glasses in her purse.
After pulling on her sweater, she walked to the master bedroom to collect her slender, brunette mother who was cleaning the bathroom’s exquisite Provençal floor tiles. “How’s it going, Maman?”
“How it always goes,” came the typical response, then a wry laugh escaped. “I’ll be ready to leave in a minute.”
“No hurry.” Cami looked around. It made total sense that the owner’s bedroom was next to the nursery. She wondered why his wife hadn’t been here to let them in this morning. But anything to do with him was none of her business. Cami needed to put a governor on her thoughts.
Unfortunately his image remained in her mind and she had difficulty taking her own advice while she helped carry her mom’s equipment to the third bathroom so they could begin first thing in the morning. Her mother deserved an easier life. Cami was determined to make that happen for both of them. But the operation might not fix what was wrong. That was the big imponderable.
Soon her mom had finished and their day’s work was done, but they’d be back tomorrow. That meant Cami would be seeing him again. Her heart did a little kick she seemed to have no control over. Ridiculous when the man had a family, even if she hadn’t seen a wedding band.
His fabulous villa had to be worth millions. Though it had sat idle for a while and truly did need a good cleaning, everything looked in excellent condition.
Again she tried to imagine owning a home like his, the kind you’d see in one of the posh interior design magazines from Provence. Imagine living in it with the right man, making a home with him, never worrying that your heart might give out just when life was getting wonderful…
But that was pure fiction. If she wanted any kind of a future for herself and her mother, she would have to work by the sweat of her brow for as long as life and her heart allowed her to draw breath. She had learned never to depend on anyone else.
They asked Madame Gilbert to make sure the ladder was moved to the third bedroom with the drop cloth, then they left. On their way home, she pulled in to their favorite deli to pick up dinner so they wouldn’t have to cook. After coming back out, she started up the van and soon she’d parked at the side of their apartment. “We worked hard today. Let’s go in. I’m hungry too, Maman.”
After walking around the property with the gardener while they discussed what needed to be done, Raoul had gone to the kitchen for a soda. From the window he’d happened to see the housecleaners leave and couldn’t help focusing his gaze on the sensational-looking woman who climbed in the driver’s seat of the first van.
When he’d started down the upstairs hall earlier in the day, he’d seen her up on the ladder. She had to be five seven, possessing a shapely figure. For a brief moment he’d caught her against his body to prevent her from hitting the floor. Even now he still remembered how she’d felt and the scent of her flowery fragrance.
With her glistening black hair pulled away from her face wearing those safety glasses, she cut a picture that refused to leave his mind. In all his experience he’d never met a female with eyes the exact hue of the tassel hyacinths that grew on Fontesquieu property near the vineyards.
Her coloring was a marvel of nature like Provence itself. It shocked him that he’d become so physically aware of this female when Antoinette’s memory had filled his heart for close to three years.
That woman had been the love of his life, but before he could marry her, Sabine Murat, the woman he’d broken up with a month before meeting Antoinette, had come back into his life. He’d slept with Sabine once, but realized he didn’t love her. To his shock, Sabine had been to the doctor and was pregnant with Raoul’s baby.
His world fell apart. He did the honorable thing by giving up Antoinette and marrying Sabine, but he’d lost the woman he’d loved and concentrated on the coming baby, only to learn after its birth that the baby wasn’t his and had died of a bad heart within the first month of life.
Sabine had lied to him about the baby’s paternity. The news meant he’d been forced to endure needless pain during a soulless marriage, and he divorced her.
He had only recently learned through Antoinette’s stepsister Nathalie that she’d given birth to Raoul’s son whom she’d named Alain. Now his life had turned to joy so he could start a new life with his boy. Raoul couldn’t wait for everything to be done and left for La Gaude.
Arlette, Alain’s grandmother, had already gone home in her car. En route he dropped by his former suite in the north wing of the Château Fontesquieu where Sabine had remained during the separation. There were two averaged-sized framed oil paintings of significance to him, plus a set of two journals he wanted bequeathed to him by his great uncle Jerome. They represented the life work of a master vintner.
It didn’t surprise him to see that before Sabine had returned to her parents’ château in nearby St. Paul-de-Vence, she’d literally cleaned everything out, including those items she knew he valued most. He grimaced as he looked around. Somehow he’d find a way to get them back. As for right now, he had the satisfaction of knowing the whole ghastly ordeal had come to an end.
Raoul tossed his key on the kitchen counter and closed the door literally on his old life before walking back out to his car. Being with his son had made him feel reborn. He left the estate, eager to be with Alain.
Tomorrow the man who’d serviced the swimming pools for the former owner would be coming to the villa to check out the indoor pool and get it ready. The outdoor pool had a cover over it. He’d worry about it in the spring.
Now was the time to teach Alain how to swim. Raoul planned that he and his son would get use out of it every day. In time they’d be going out on the Mediterranean in his sailboat. It was vital his boy be able to handle himself in any kind of water.
When he thought about tomorrow, the knowledge that the cleaning people would be at the villa for a few more days was an added plus. He intended to find out the gorgeous woman’s name and more.
By 8:00 a.m. Tuesday, Madame Gilbert had opened the back door of the villa to let the cleaners in. Cami and her mother walked upstairs. Today they would tackle the third and fourth bedrooms and bathrooms.
Maybe the striking owner and his wife had other children who would be occupying these bedrooms, though he hadn’t talked about any. The sight from the third bedroom window looked out on the property’s greenery and outdoor pool. What a wonderful place to grow up.
When the owner had mentioned his son, she’d felt such love coming from him. A father’s love was a great thing. She missed hers and turned away from the window to get busy.
After lunch in the van, her mother finished the third bathroom while Cami started on the fourth bedroom. As she was setting up, she heard a knock on the open door and turned her head to see the owner.
“I thought I’d better announce myself first before you saw me.” That deep masculine voice of his curled its way through her insides. He brought in the ladder from the other room, which he set up for her.
“Thank you. My mother and I were going to bring it in.”
“Now you don’t have to. I’ll move it wherever you wish. Just ask.”
No man had ever looked so good wearing thigh-molding jeans and a T-shirt that covered his powerful shoulders and chest. This time it was her pulse that raced of its own volition.
She smiled. “I appreciate that. Since I wasn’t up on it, I’ve been saved a trip to the hospital this afternoon.” Before long she’d be going there for something that had nothing to do with a broken bone.
He laughed, exhibiting a refreshing sense of humor. “I should have asked your name yesterday.”
“It’s Camille Delon, but those who know me call me Cami.”
He flashed her an answering smile. “Bonne après-midi, Cami. We weren’t officially introduced yesterday. I’m Raoul Fontesquieu.”
Raoul Fontesquieu? It couldn’t be. But it had to be. There could only be one. She’d heard his name clearly over the radio.
Cami swallowed hard as reality set in. She clung to the side of the ladder where she stood. “I heard about the death of your grandfather. I’m so sorry. I never knew either of mine. You and your wife were lucky to have enjoyed him this long.”
Her comment seemed to bring a subtle change in his demeanor, causing her to realize there were hidden emotions swirling inside of him. Prompted by his silence she said, “Let me congratulate you for being named the new CEO of your family’s company. It was all over the news yesterday.”
In an instant a frown broke out on his striking features. “I’m afraid bad news travels fast when it’s false.”
“What do you mean?” The comment had taken her back.
His lips twisted. “I’m divorced, and won’t be accepting the position as CEO. In time, I won’t be associated with the company at all. However, I’m assuming that the truth will be corrected before the week is out.”
“Those are pretty colossal mistakes for the media to make.” She was still trying to take it all in.
“Indeed.” A strange smile appeared. “I came in here to ask if you would take a look at the nursery and tell me what you think about the color I’ve painted it. Is it too deep, or not light enough?”
It surprised her that he wanted her opinion at all. She couldn’t help be excited. Everything about him had fascinated her even before she’d learned his identity. “Since I haven’t started cleaning the ceiling yet, I’ll come now.”
Cami followed him down the hall. When they reached the entry, she took in the soft blue that had covered the off-white walls of the room. “It’s perfect, monsieur. You did an excellent job. Are you sure you didn’t head a house painting company in a former life?”
It was an outrageous comment to make knowing who he was, but she hadn’t been able to resist. Not after realizing he was one of those royals her father had told her about years ago, even if their titles were defunct.
His laughter resonated in the room. Almost at once his body and expression relaxed, turning him back to the charismatic, virile man she’d hadn’t been able to forget during the night.
“Call me Raoul, and tell me the truth.”
“I promise you I just did,” she assured him with a smile. “The blue color you’ve chosen has created a soothing ambience any child would love. With the white cove moldings, I can picture the white furniture you picked out fitting in beautifully.”
His black eyes gleamed. “Thank you. Now that I have your seal of approval, I’ll have everything I’ve bought delivered on Friday. By Sunday I’ll bring my son home to live with me permanently.”
She could hear his excitement. “Where is he?”
He shifted his weight. “You’ve met Arlette Gilbert. She’s his grandmother and has taken care of him from birth.”
She blinked. But where was Madame Gilbert’s daughter? According to the report on the radio, Raoul had been married to a woman named Sabine Murat. Cami was so confused.
By now she’s learned enough to realize there were volumes of information he’d left out: like why his son hadn’t lived with him from birth; why the divorce; where the birth mother was; what the reason was for the false news report that went out to the whole world.
But she didn’t have the right to ask those questions. Cami was one of the cleaning ladies. In another couple of days, she’d never see him again.
“Your son is blessed to have a father like you who loves him so much and has painted his room. That’s a story you can tell him when he’s older. I lost my father at twelve.”
“I’m sorry to hear that. You were so young.”
“It was awful. For a while I thought my life was over. Hang on to the relationship with your son for dear life. Nothing’s more important.”
“I agree.” Again, the emotion in his tone conveyed he was a man of deep feelings.
She turned to leave.
“Are you married, Cami?” With her gloves on, he wouldn’t have noticed if she wore a ring or not.
She paused and looked back at him, surprised at the question. “I was married at eighteen and divorced at nineteen.”
He studied her for a moment. “Do you have children?”
Cami shook her head. One month into her marriage proved she’d made a mistake and she was glad she hadn’t gotten pregnant. “I’ve been working ever since. Now I’d better get back to my cleaning.”
His eyes played over her, sending darts of awareness through her. “Then I’ll see you later.”
For the rest of the afternoon she worked her head off. When she and her mother left the villa at five, the owner was nowhere in sight. On the way home she told her mom what she’d learned about him and the nursery he’d painted.
“So…he’s a Fontesquieu… Like I said, money doesn’t ensure happiness. A divorce? A little boy he’s never lived with? Why on earth would he buy that large villa for the two of them when his home is the royal Fontesquieu Château? It doesn’t make sense.”