The Cinderella Act

About the Author Jennifer Lewis has always been drawn to fairy tales, and stories of passion and enchantment. Writing allows her to bring the characters crowding her imagination to life. She lives in sunny South Florida and enjoys the lush tropical environment and spending time on the beach all year long. Please visit her website at http://www.jenlewis.com. Product Description Nothing appeals to Annie Sullivans sense of romance like hunting for a missing heirloom. She cant get enough of the stories surrounding Sinclair Drummonds Scottish ancestors. But when they search his mansion together, she cant get enough of her bossand they make love.Simply shocking.For a divorc determined to stay single, Sinclair is on thin icewith his housekeeper, no less. And when he takes Annie to a gala on his neighbors Long Island estate, the Cinderella song and dance becomes the real deal. But will major family drama stop this fantasy fling dead in its tracks? Excerpt. Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved. Are you sure this is safe?Annie tried to keep her eyes off Sinclair Drummonds enticing backside as he climbed the rickety wooden stairs to the attic.No. He flashed her a grin that made her knees wobble. Especially with the curse hanging over our heads.I guess Ill take my chances. As his employee, Annie Sullivan could hardly refuse. She stepped onto the first rung of the handhewn stairs that were barely more than a ladder. They led up into the ceiling of the old barn, which was attached to the house so Drummond ancestors didnt have to face bitter winds howling in from Long Island Sound while tending to their animals. Now all it contained was an impressive collection of spiderwebs and brittle horse tack. The steps creaked alarmingly. Have you ever been up here? She hadnt, which was strange in itself.Sinclair reached the top and pushed open a trap door. Sure. When I was a kid. I used to hide up here when my parents argued.Annie frowned. She couldnt imagine his quiet, dignified mother raising her voice, but shed never met his father. Hed died in some kind of accident years ago.I doubt anyones been up here since. He disappeared into the dark hole, and she climbed the stairs behind him with a growing sense of anticipation. A light snapped on, filling the opening with bright light. Im glad that still works. I didnt fancy searching by candlelight. Rain drummed on the shake roof overhead. His voice sounded far away, and she hurried to catch up to him. Her head cleared the entrance and she saw a row of uncovered bulbs dangling from the center beam of the windowless attic. Boxes and crates were piled along the sides, among disused tables, chairs and other, less identifiable pieces of furniture. The far wall was almost hidden behind a stack of big leather trunks bearing steamer labels. Despite the size of the room, very little of the wood floor was visible.So this is what three hundred years worth of pack rats leave behind them. Where do we start? Her fingers tingled with anticipation at rifling through the Drummond familys possessions. Which was funny, since thats what she did every day in her job. Of course dusting and polishing silver wasnt nearly as exciting as opening an old steamer trunk filled with mothballs and mystery.Sinclair lifted the lid of a chest, which appeared to be filled with folded quilts. Hell if I know. I suppose we just start plowing through and hope for the best. Hed rolled up his sleeves, and she watched his muscular forearm reach boldly into the fabric. The cup fragment is made of metal, apparently. Possibly silver, but more likely pewter. It doesnt have any inherent value.His shirt strained against his strong back as he reached deeper. Annies heart rate quickened. Why did her boss have to be so gorgeous? It wasnt fair. Shed worked for him for six years and hed only grown more handsome with age. He was thirtytwo and his thick, dark hair didnt be