The Cinderella Obsession (14 page)

He pulled out the glass slipper earring from his pocket and twirled it between his fingers. It spun round and round, glittering in the light from passing cars and street lamps. She sure had a lot of gumption. She’d been terrified of going to that masquerade and being found out, but she’d done it anyway. She’d chased after the rainbow even though she knew she’d never reach the pot of gold at the other end. It had been enough to pursue the dream. He admired that.

He stopped fiddling with the earring and it leapt wildly from side to side before coming to rest. The smartest thing to do would be to bring it to an end with Vanessa. After all, it had barely begun. He clamped his fist closed around the glass slipper. The problem was, he didn’t want it to end. He wanted her too much and it wasn’t just lust.

He opened his palm and stroked the little slipper. Vanessa had more facets than this crystal, and was even more beautiful
--
in every way. There was no way he could convince himself he only wanted her body. Somehow, she’d infiltrated his dreams, pervaded his thoughts, and captured his heart.

He faced the fact head on. He wanted her. And not just in his bed as Vanessa seemed to think.

The problem now was how to convince her of that.

* * * *

Monday was pure hell for Nick. He knew he had to give Vanessa time to calm down and he waited for signs that she was softening towards him. She worked with cool efficiency all morning. He found the files and reports needed for his scheduled tasks piled on his desk before he’d even requested them, then she contrived to be away from her desk as often as possible.

He’d seen this evasive action of hers before.

She had been the one who’d gotten angry Friday so he had to give her the opportunity to open discussions, but by late afternoon, he couldn’t stand it anymore. Always a man of action, he decided to force the issue. He called her into his office, hoping that by forcing her to stand face-to-face with him, she’d say something about Friday night. If she didn’t, he would. Unfortunately, her grim expression immediately warned him that any discussion about their relationship would be doomed to failure, so he shifted the conversation to work. She kept a cloak of cool aloofness clutched around her for the rest of the day and through the next.

Wednesday morning, as Nick sat stroking the glass slipper earring, wondering again how to win Vanessa back, she walked into his office.

"Oh, I’m sorry to disturb you."

He could feel the chill in her voice. Clearly, today would not see an end to the cold front in their relationship.

He placed the fragile earring on his desk with care. "Not at all, Vanessa," he said. A weary note frayed his words. "What is it?"

"Mr. Taylor just called to cancel your lunch appointment." She placed a pink telephone message slip on his desk and turned to go.

Free for lunch. He picked up the earring and swung it back and forth.

"Vanessa? Would you care to…?"

She turned to face him and her eyes instantly hardened.

"No, I guess not."

He swung the earring into his palm and snapped his fingers around it. She turned and walked out. For a moment, when she’d first turned around, he almost thought he’d seen hope in her eyes, as though she wanted him to ask her to lunch.

He decided he needed to call in help. He snatched up the phone and dialed Amy’s number.

* * * *

The waiter brought Nick and Amy a basket of tortilla chips, a white dish full of spicy salsa sauce, and a beer for Nick. Nick watched Amy dip a chip into the sauce. Her pregnancy certainly had modified her eating choices. She’d insisted on Tex Mex, claiming an overwhelming craving for fajitas. They ordered chicken fajitas for two, with extra guacamole.

Amy crunched happily as Nick told her what had happened on his date with Vanessa.

"She’s been the epitome of cool business efficiency in the office all week and refuses to say a word about what happened. I have no idea how to get her to go out with me again." Nick took a gulp of his beer.

Amy raised an eyebrow. "That’s a problem you’ve never had before."

"Damn it, Amy. The woman accused me of dating her just to get her into bed." He couldn’t help being a little angry, and greatly frustrated.

"And, didn’t you?" She crunched her chip, wiping the dribble of red sauce from her chin with a long, manicured fingernail.

He glared at her. "No, I was trying to make her happy, to fulfill her dream."

"How very altruistic of you. And how is she to thank you for that?"

He stopped rolling his glass between his palms and stared at her. "What do you mean?"

She waved a chip at him like a pointer. "I mean, you bowl the girl over with fancy clothes and glamorous parties. Of course she’s going to wonder what you want in return."

He plunked his glass down. "But it wasn’t like that."

Her eyebrows crept up. "You do want to sleep with her, don’t you?"

He shifted on the wooden bench seat, wishing she’d chosen a restaurant with comfortable upholstered chairs. "I can’t deny that. She and I are…."

"Compatible. Yes, I know. I saw the sparks flying between the two of you that day at the office, remember? And there’s nothing wrong with wanting to make love. Personally, I’m all for it. But you’ve got to be on the same level. Unfortunately for you, you’re several rungs higher on the social ladder."

He flattened his palms on the table. "I haven’t treated her any differently than I would any other date."

She leaned toward him. "That’s the problem. She’s not any other date." She stared across the table at him, her expression more serious than Nick had ever seen it. "Look, Nick, tell me why we’re having this conversation. Do you just want to tell me about the one that got away? Or do you want advice on how to win her back?"

Nick responded in a quiet voice, barely loud enough to carry over the background noise of clattering dishes and rowdy conversation. "I want to get her back."

"To sleep with her?"

He raked a hand through his hair. "Yes, I definitely want to sleep with her, but I want more than that, too. I just don’t know what yet."

She sat back and smiled. "Well, hallelujah. You’re getting smarter with age."

"Thanks a lot. Now tell me. How do I get her to trust me again?"

"I can’t answer that, but I would like to make a suggestion about your approach to this relationship."

He raised an eyebrow, waiting for her to continue.

"Look, Nick, you’ve never liked going to any of these posh affairs. When you do go, it’s always to please other people. Why are you doing it with Vanessa?"

He shrugged. "I thought she’d enjoy dressing up and going to fancy places."

"And you thought it would impress her."

"Sure. What’s wrong with that?"

Their waiter buzzed by, stopping long enough to top up their ice water and ask if they needed anything. Watching the condensation glisten on the outside of her glass, Amy traced a droplet of water dripping down the side.

"Well, if you want to win Vanessa, I recommend you stop trying to impress her and start trying to get to know her."

"What exactly are you suggesting?"

"Well, for one thing, ask her to do something you enjoy."

He frowned. "You mean take her to a movie I like?" Wouldn’t Vanessa be disappointed with that? After all, any guy could take her to a movie.

"You can’t talk at a movie."

"What then?"

"Why not invite her to your place for a quiet evening by the fire? You know, a nice dinner, a bottle of wine…."

The thought of Vanessa curled up beside him on the couch in front of a cozy fire started a raging fire within him. There was nothing he’d like better than to have her alone and all to himself.

"Then she’ll be sure to think I’m trying to seduce her."

She smiled, her eyes gleaming.

"If you really want to, you’ll figure a way around that. I have every confidence in your abilities when it comes to getting what you want. "

Now if he only knew what it was he did want.

He returned Amy’s glowing smile. Pregnancy suited her. Suddenly, he found himself wanting to see that same glow lighting Vanessa’s lovely features. The longing to make a child with Vanessa burrowed into his stomach and settled deep down inside him.

He glared at his beer, wondering if it was the spicy sauce or the beer that had affected his brain.

Vanessa tapped her pencil on her desktop, wondering how she could break out of this gridlock with Nick. She’d been angry Friday night but after she’d cooled down, she’d realized that Nick hadn’t done anything wrong.

She’d been so caught up in the evening she’d lost her hold on reality. His touches had short circuited her brain cells and she’d drifted into thinking she might have a future with him. It had been her mind wandering off to a fairy tale world. Nick had only tried to please her.

Even if Nick had only wanted to show her a good time because he felt sorry for her, he hadn’t meant to hurt her. And if he wanted to take her to bed … well, she’d been having the same fantasy about him. All evening, she had hoped he’d invite her back to his place so they could explore their growing attraction. She’d been a hypocrite to get angry at him.

She’d decided she would talk to him Monday morning at work to try and put the incident behind them, but minor interruptions prevented her from following through. By late morning her opportunity had come. Finally, he’d been alone in his office, so she’d gathered her courage to go and apologize, but when she’d peeked in his office, he’d been sitting at his desk twirling the glass slipper earring between his fingers, watching it with unseeing eyes. She’d backed off, knowing he was longing for his fantasy woman.

Now they were stuck in their frigid roles. She knew she’d have to make the first move.

The elevator dinged. As the doors swept open, Vanessa kept her focus on the report in front of her. She could feel Nick’s powerful presence as he strode across the office.

Say something now
. Quivers skittered up her spine at the thought. No, she’d better gauge his mood first.

"Vanessa?"

"Yes?" she asked, without glancing up. She expected a curt order like he’d been giving all week, but he said nothing. Finally, she allowed her gaze to sweep up to his face.

A sharp pain thrust through her heart at the sight of his handsome face. She’d missed him. Even though they’d worked in the same office for the past three days it had been as if they were strangers. Neither had said more than a couple of polite words at a time. As his piercing blue eyes cut through her courteous veneer, leaving her nerves in tatters, she realized what she’d missed most about him was the twinkle that used to dance in his eyes when he’d tease her.

"Come to my office. I want to talk to you."

"Of course."

She grabbed her notebook, but he wrapped his fingers around it, touching hers with an infusing warmth that sent lingering shimmers of need quivering through her.

"You won’t need this." He pulled the book from her nerveless fingers and placed it on her desk, then strolled to his office.

"Close the door behind you," he told her once she’d followed him inside.

He stood by the desk, waiting as she skittered across the room to one of the chairs facing his desk. She settled into it, nervously clutching the edges of the armrests, watching him. His eyes, intent and assessing, studied her for a few moments, sending her pulse thumping erratically through her veins.

"Vanessa, things have been pretty tense between us all week."

She swallowed, trying to ease the tight grip her clenched muscles had around her throat. Could it be that Nick was going to fire her? No, she didn’t think he’d do that, but he might transfer her. If he found it uncomfortable working with her, then that would be the most sensible thing to do.

But Vanessa didn’t want to be transferred. The very thought made her ill with longing. She wanted to be close to Nick.

"I’d really like to clear the air," he continued. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest. "You know, I thought you were having a wonderful time on Friday night until--"

Now that he’d broached the subject, words that had been dammed up within her burst out in a flash flood. "I know. I was, Nick, and … I’m so sorry I said the things I did. You see, I was confused and … well, the evening was so different from anything I’ve ever--"

He held up his palm. "Vanessa, slow down." A grin swept his austere features into boyish good looks--a transformation devastating in its effect on her senses. "Now let me get this straight. You’re sorry? You mean I’ve been brooding all week over how to get back in your good graces and you haven’t even been mad at me?"

"I thought you were angry with me so I … well, I didn’t know--"

"I was but--oh, who cares?" He stepped toward her and pulled her to her feet. Sweeping an arm around her waist, he pulled her against him. "Oh, God, I’ve been dying to hold you again." He raised an eyebrow and she could feel his hesitation. "Am I going to get in trouble for this?"

Reaching up and stroking a hand across his cheek, still smooth from his morning shave, she stared into his midnight blue eyes. "No. Nick, I really am sorry for what I said. I mean, accusing you of something I want myself isn’t really fair, is it?"

Suddenly, she found herself pulled tight against his ribs, his lips capturing hers in a frenzy of need. Her nipples tightened and pushed against the wall of his chest as he crushed her to him. A moan escaped as she felt liquid heat trickle through her. Nick swept his hands under her jacket and across the smooth fabric covering her back. His fingers slid over her skirt and gathered her closer. The hardness of his body pressed against her, making her gasp.

She wanted to tear open her blouse and pull his mouth to her breast to ease the throbbing ache that filled her. She arched her hips forward, wanting to feel the assurance of his need.

"Vanessa." His voice sounded close to cracking. He eased her away from him. "I can’t…." He cleared his hoarse throat. "If we don’t stop I’ll lay you down on that couch right now and ravish you."

Breathing in short, puffy gasps, she stared at him, wondering why he thought that was a bad idea.

"I want our first time to be special, not some quickie session in my office," he elaborated. "Now, I suggest you go finish that report."

She slid from his warmth and turned away reluctantly, smoothing her hands down her side.

"Vanessa?"

"Yes, Nick?"

His hand on her shoulder seemed to melt into her flesh. She turned to face him.

"I almost forgot. The reason I brought you in here was to ask you out."

"When?"

"Tonight?"

A slow smile turned up the sides of her mouth. "Yes."

He grinned, with devastating effects on her heart rate. "Don’t you want to know where?"

She’d go anywhere with him, especially right at this moment. "Where?"

"I thought I’d give you a choice." He sounded hesitant. "We could go out on the town. You know, a nice restaurant then hit the popular dance spots, or…."

He watched her face so intently, she started to get nervous, her smile crumbling a little.

"Or what?" she prompted.

"Or we could just have a quiet dinner at my place."

Her smile spread even broader. "I’d love that. I could bring dessert." I could be
dessert
. The wicked glint in his eyes told her he’d read her thought and she flushed hotly.

"All I want you to bring is yourself," he murmured, straightening her lapels, then smoothing his hands down the front of her jacket, stoking the slow flame within her.

"Will there be other people there?" she asked, a tiny catch in her voice.

"No, just a dinner for two."

She grabbed his wrists, holding his hands still. She could only take so much before her control fled entirely. Even his lightest touch sent her sensitized body into screaming fits of need.

"I see. But … I mean … I guess there’ll be a cook and the butler and…."

He pulled her into his arms again, giving her a quick hug and a kiss on the forehead. "I’ll give them all the night off. I promise you, it’ll be just the two of us."

"It sounds wonderful." She floated away from him.

* * * *

She opened her closet and peered in, thinking it no longer sounded like such a wonderful idea. Not that she didn’t want to go out with Nick, but what in heaven’s name would she wear? Her gaze drifted over the dresses Nick had sent her.

If they’d been going out somewhere tonight, she could wear one of those, but not to his house. He’d made it clear he planned a quiet, casual evening--just the kind of evening she’d dreamed of with him--and she didn’t want to spoil it by overdressing. It would only serve to remind him--and her--of the differences between them.

The problem was, she had only two kind of clothes. Old, and older. Aside from her business clothes, of course. She pulled out her best pair of jeans--the ones with the least number of patches--and went in search of a reasonable top. The June weather had turned cool so a sweater would be appropriate. She brightened at the thought, remembering the new design she’d just finished. After digging it out of her drawer, she examined it critically. Blue cotton with beads and metallic thread woven through in an elegant design, it looked casually dressy. Perfect, in fact.

Nick picked her up twenty minutes later and she entered his world feeling mildly reticent. She’d been here twice before, but this time she was his date and they both knew where the evening would lead. Funny how she now thought of this as Nick’s house, not the daunting Erin Gate mansion, ex-home of her stepmother.

Nick had prepared a simple meal of steaks and Caesar salad, with a chocolate swirl cheesecake for dessert. Their conversation flowed easily, along with the wine, and Vanessa soon found herself relaxing completely.

"Ah, this is great." Nick sighed contentedly. He settled on the couch and stretched his long legs out in front of him.

"Are you referring to your full stomach, the glass of wine in your hand, or the roaring fire?" she asked.

He grabbed her hand and tugged her down beside him. "All of the above." He waved his hand flamboyantly. "But mostly, relaxing in blue jeans rather than getting all dressed up and having to do the social bit. I’d much rather have you here beside me like this," he said, as he wrapped his arm around her and tucked her into his side, "and talk, than sit at some fancy restaurant or big social event and have to share you with a dozen other people."

Forehead furrowed, she sent him a sideways glance. "But I thought you enjoyed partying."

"You thought wrong."

She shifted to look at him straight on. "Then why did you take me to that big party? And why did you offer to go out somewhere fancy tonight?"

He shrugged, looking uncertain. "I thought you’d like all the glitz. The chance to wear pretty clothes and dance the night away."

She smiled. "I did. It was wonderful. But I wouldn’t want to do it all the time. What I liked best was being with you."

His full lips spread into a broad smile and he took her hand. "And I like being with you, Vanessa."

"Really?" She tried not to withdraw but a tiny crimp in her gut reminded her of the reason he’d started taking her out. Her gaze drifted down to her glass.

"Vanessa? What is it?"

"Nothing."

He lifted her chin. "Don’t start building a wall again. Please, tell me what’s wrong."

"Well, it’s just that…." She made her decision and met his gaze boldly. "Why did you ask me out?"

His eyes narrowed and he said warily, "Why exactly are you asking?"

She settled in beside him again. "Suzanne said … she told me how you like to help people. She explained that you’d wanted to cheer up a woman at work who’d been unemployed for a while, that you wanted her to have an evening out."

"She must have been talking about Jenny Smith. She’d been out of work for six months before we hired her and she’s still living on a pretty tight budget. Rachel told me she never goes to lunch with the others because she can’t afford it. Since we often give away certificates for dinner at company social events, Rachel asked if we could throw in an extra one at the next event and arrange for her to win it."

Vanessa felt her throat tighten as she realized how badly she’d misjudged Nick’s motives. His thoughtfulness touched her deeply. "Oh. That’s so nice." The familiar name tugged at her memory. "Jenny Smith. She works in accounting, doesn’t she?"

"That’s right." He took her hand and stroked her knuckles. "Vanessa, why are you asking me about Jenny?"

"I…." She sighed, frowning.

"Did you think Suzanne had been talking about you?"

She rubbed her free hand down her thigh. "I didn’t think she thought it was me."

"But
you
did, didn’t you?" he persisted.

"I thought you asked me out because you felt sorry for me."

He released her hand. "And because if I took you out I might get lucky."

Anger tinged his words, springing from the hurt she’d inflicted. She grabbed his hand. "Nick, I’m sorry."

"Vanessa, I asked you out because you’re beautiful, intelligent and I enjoy spending time with you. Do you understand that?"

"I’m starting to." She stared into his eyes. "I really don’t know much about you at all, do I?"

"There’s a way to fix that. Why not try asking me what you want to know? Get to know me."