The Cinderella Obsession (17 page)

"I got a message from the insurance company. They found out who owns the earring," he said into the receiver. "No. When I called the adjuster he wasn’t in, but I’m sure he’s thrilled not to have to pay out a claim on it."

Earring?
She stiffened as the implication sank in. He must be talking about the insurance company that held the policy on her antique glass slipper earrings. Oh, no. They must have tracked her down and that meant they were going to tell Nick she was Cinderella. Did he already know? No, he’d said he hadn’t been able to get in touch with the adjuster and they wouldn’t have left confidential information like a policy holder’s name in a phone message. A slight hope flared within her as she realized that maybe they wouldn’t give Nick her name at all--maybe they’d just demand the earring back so that they could return it. Remembering how Nick had searched adamantly for Cinderella, however, she felt certain he would never accept that. With his determination, he’d find a way to get her name.

She quelled the panic rising within her, telling herself she’d been worried for so long about being fired over this that she was behaving like a fool. Nick wouldn’t fire her. Not now. In fact, since she’d come to know him, she realized he never would have fired her, even if they hadn’t forged a relationship.

She had to confess. He might not understand her reluctance to tell him at first, but he’d listen to her explanation. He’d probably laugh at the whole ridiculous situation. The best thing to do would be to go and tell him the whole story right now.

"Yes, I’m going to return it tonight. I can’t wait to see her face. You know, Amy, her eyes have haunted me ever since that night."

He smiled, the skin around his eyes and mouth crinkling in that enticing way she loved. Was he really planning to meet with a woman he didn’t even know to return the earring tonight? He must be consumed by curiosity to meet the woman who had thrown him so off balance. There was nothing wrong with that, she tried to convince herself. Except … he had told Vanessa he wanted to see her again tonight.

"I can imagine those beautiful eyes widening in surprise as I hand her the earring." He picked up a pencil and tapped it on the edge of the desk. "Of course, I’m excited. She’s been in my dreams every single night."

He’d been dreaming about
her
. Even though she and the mystery woman were one and the same, Vanessa felt cheated upon. Surely after last night, he didn’t still….

Her hand clamped over her mouth. Oh, God. She remembered his sleep-befuddled words when he’d called her his Cinderella and said he was so glad he’d found her. He’d been dreaming of her right after making love with Vanessa! When he’d reached for her, he’d really been reaching for her.

"Amy, I can’t know for sure yet … we’ll need some time to get to know each other, but…." He pulled the glass slipper earring from his pocket and held it up in front of him. Sunlight danced merrily off the faceted surface. "What I’m trying to say is, last night, I … Well, something happened to make me re-evaluate the kind of woman I want. You were absolutely right." He dropped the earring into his palm and stroked it delicately with one finger, sending shivers down Vanessa’s spine. The tenderness she saw in his eyes ripped her soul to shreds--because she knew it was meant for another woman.

"That’s right, it doesn’t matter whether she’s a career woman or not. If I find out she wants a family and she’ll have me, I’m probably going to ask her to marry me." He nodded his head. "I know it’s fast. I just knew, from that first explosive kiss, that…." A smile spread across his face. "Yes, that’s right. Love at first sight … or should I say, at first kiss." He clamped his hand closed, the earring snugly cherished within his fist. "Oh, don’t sound so smug."

Vanessa felt an alarming torment well up from the depths of her soul. She had believed she could never fit into Nick’s world, had wondered why she’d even dared to try. Just yesterday morning she had called herself every kind of fool imaginable for putting herself in this position, where she could fall in love with a man who would never be hers. But last night, when she’d gotten to know him--really know him--she knew they were right for each other, that they could make a happy life together. She had fallen in love with him--and not because he represented the coveted Prince Charming she had always longed for. She had fallen in love with a man. Not a fantasy. Not the fancy clothes he’d given her. Not the glittering jewels he’d draped around her neck. Those things she could place in the corner of her mind she reserved for treasured memories--but Nick she would never be able to confine to an out-of-the-way niche where she could call him up only when she felt like it. He would pervade her memories, take over her conscious thought, fill her with longing for something that could never be.

And now, right after discovering that she couldn’t live without him, she found she couldn’t have him. He wanted another woman. A woman he knew nothing about. How could she fight a ghost? Should she even try? After all, if he thought so little of her that he’d dump her to go after a fantasy….

Quietly, she pulled the door closed with one question grating through her mind. What was she going to do?

Vanessa walked back to her desk and scanned Nick’s schedule. Thankfully, he had scheduled meetings for the rest of the morning and all afternoon. Glancing at the clock on her desk, she realized he’d be leaving in five minutes so she scurried out of the office to the ladies room, intent on staying there until he’d left, unwilling to face him in her current state of turmoil.

When she was certain he’d be gone, she returned to his office and scanned the surface of his desk. Two pink telephone message slips sat in his message tray and she grabbed the one with the name of her insurance company. Vanessa snatched up the phone and dialed the number.

"Mr. Woodbridge? This is Vanessa Graham, one of your policy holders."

"Vanessa Graham? That name sounds familiar. Have you made a claim recently? If you have a file number…."

She tapped her fingers on the edge of the desk. "No, I haven’t made a claim, but I believe someone has been telling you I might. You see, I have a pair of antique earrings insured with your company and--"

"That’s where I know your name."

She heard shuffling of papers on the other end of the line.

"Glass slipper earring, right? I understand you lost one. You’ll be happy to know someone’s found it."

"Mr. Woodbridge, it just so happens that I know exactly where the other earring is. Why do you think I haven’t made a claim? The reason I’m calling is because I know someone has been trying to find me through you and--"

"How do you know that?"

She turned toward the window and stared at the light drizzle speckling the glass.

"It really doesn’t matter, does it? The point is, I do know and I know who he is, but I won’t try and compromise your ethics by asking you to confirm his name." Silence crackled on the line as her message took root. "Well, I’m sure you can sympathize with the fact that I value my privacy very highly."

"Of course, Miss Graham. You have nothing to worry about. We don’t give out confidential information on our policy holders."

She swung the spiral cord back and forth in her hand.

"Like my name? And address perhaps?"

"Well, of course, ordinarily we wouldn’t but…." His voice took on the halting hesitation of nervousness. "Are you saying this man doesn’t have your earring?"

"What I’m saying is that, even if he produces an exact duplicate of one of my earrings, I do not want you to give him my name."

"But if he does have it, we must ensure that--"

"I will not be making a claim on the earring, Mr. Woodbridge."

"I don’t mean to imply anything about your honesty, ma’am, but we can’t know for sure that six months from now--"

She glared at the phone as though it had called her character into question directly.

"Even if I did put in a claim, you have the man’s name and number. You could contact him at that time, could you not?"

"Well, yes, I suppose so."

"If you’re really worried, simply ask him to turn the earring over to you. The point is, I really don’t care what you do, as long as you understand that if this man finds out who I am, I will know he got the information from your company and I promise you, I will be in touch with the Privacy Commissioner of Canada, and my lawyer. Have I made myself clear?" She’d pulled the telephone cord as taut as her voice.

"Perfectly, Miss Graham. I assure you, you have nothing to worry about."

She released the cord and it swung wildly to and fro, in time with the beat of her heart.

"I’m very glad to hear that," she said in her most congenial tone.

Vanessa hung up and set about prioritizing her work so she could get as much done this afternoon as possible. She didn’t know what the future held, but she did know she couldn’t face Nick again. Tomorrow, she would call in sick. Maybe by Monday they could find a replacement for her.

Damn the woman. Where had she gone?

Nick had returned to his office after his late afternoon meeting to find a message from Vanessa on his desk telling him she couldn’t make their date that night. She’d claimed illness and called in sick Friday morning.

By Saturday evening, he started to worry. Why didn’t she answer his phone calls?
F
inally, he went to her apartment, bouquet of flowers in hand. She didn’t answer her buzzer and when he snuck in the front door on the trail of an occupant, he went up and pounded on her door. Still, she didn’t answer.

By this time, Nick started to get frantic. The superintendent refused to let Nick into her apartment and when Nick claimed it might be a medical emergency, the man insisted he’d check on her himself and pass on a message and the flowers. Even a bribe wouldn’t change his mind. Damn. At any other time he would have respected the man for protecting his tenants, but right now all Nick cared about was his desperate need to know if Vanessa was all right.

He decided to visit Rachel in the hospital, hoping that she might have some information about Vanessa and her well-being. He walked the blue line with a determined stride, then marched into her room.

"Nick, how are you?"

He could tell by her defensive posture and the nervous tremor in her voice that Rachel was less than delighted to see him.

"Rachel, do you know where Vanessa is? I’ve been trying to get in touch with her and--"

"She doesn’t want to see you, Nick."

His brows furrowed in confusion. "What do you mean she doesn’t want to see me? Is this some vanity thing? She’s afraid to have me see her with a red nose and swollen eyes?"

Rachel’s sharply in-drawn breath surprised him.

"Nick, you heartless beast."

"For heaven’s sake, what are you talking about, Rachel? I can understand you thinking that about me if I didn’t want to see her while she’s sick, but I’ve been trying to find out how she is and--"

"Vanessa’s sick?" Now Rachel looked confused.

"That’s what she said Friday morning when she called to say she wouldn’t be in."

"Oh. Nick, I … well, it shouldn’t be me telling you this."

Rachel’s strained look sent dread shuddering through him. "Telling me what?"

"Vanessa ought to…."

A sudden thought burst into his brain. Could Vanessa be pregnant? No, they’d only made love two nights ago. Surely she couldn’t know so soon. Could she? He’d heard about how fast and accurate these new pregnancy tests were.

"For God’s sake, Rachel, what is it?"

"Nick, Vanessa’s not sick, she … well, she doesn’t want to see you again."

He blinked at Rachel a few times, letting the unexpected words sink in. Remembering the night of rapture he and Vanessa had shared in each other’s arms, he couldn’t imagine what might have happened to make her feel that way.

"Nick, don’t you understand that Cinderella and Prince Charming live happily ever after?"

"Of course I do, and I thought she’d be pleased that her fantasy has become a reality."

She narrowed her eyes and asked suspiciously, "What do you mean?"

"Come on, Rachel, what do you think I mean?" He strolled across the room toward the bed. "I want to ask Vanessa to marry me." He placed his hands on the side bar and leaned towards her. "But I can’t do that if I can’t find her."

"But … I mean, I thought…."

He captured her wandering gaze with his own intent stare. "Just what did you think, Rachel?"

"Oh, Nick. Vanessa phoned Thursday afternoon. I missed her call but the message said something about you asking another woman to marry you. I’ve been thinking that you’re pretty much of a rat."

"Another woman? Why would she think…?" The phone call! His heart compressed as realization hit. She must have heard his conversation with Amy. "You haven’t told her that I know she was Cinderella, have you?"

"No, Nick, you made me promise not to, remember? And anyway, I haven’t been able to get in touch with her either."

"That’s it then." He told her about his talk with Amy and how Vanessa might have drawn the wrong conclusion.

"So you really are going to ask her to marry you?" Rachel’s eyes lit up like a kid’s on Christmas morning.

"If I can find her. Any clues?"

"No, not really. She might just be holed up in her apartment or she might have gone to stay with one of her stepsisters in Ottawa."

"Her car’s in the parking lot."

"That doesn’t mean anything. She usually takes a bus to the train station. She doesn’t like to leave her car in the station parking lot while she’s gone."

"I guess I’ll have to wait until Monday to see her."

But when Nick arrived at work on Monday, he found a temp sitting at Vanessa’s desk and a memo from personnel informing him they had released Vanessa Graham from her contract, by her request. She’d claimed personal problems.

He swung by her apartment on the way home that night and pounded on her door until a neighbor complained, telling him she’d gone out an hour ago.

* * * *

Nick couldn’t face going back to his place. Everything there reminded him of Vanessa. Her sweet scent still clung to the pillows on his bed. He decided to go back to the office to put in a couple hours work, then return to Vanessa’s later and storm her door until she had to let him in.

As the elevator doors opened, he was surprised to find the lights on. His office door was open and he heard rustling inside. He peered in cautiously, knowing the cleaning staff wouldn’t be by for another couple of hours.

Stunned, he saw the woman who’d been driving him to distraction standing at his desk spinning his dolphin mobile.

"Vanessa, what are you doing here?"

She glanced up sharply, looking like a startled kitten. He could just imagine her tail puffing out.

"Nick!"

"Taking a last look around before you pick up your stuff?"

Even though he wanted to race across the room and drag her into his arms, he forced his voice to sound reserved. He had to find out why she’d come.

"I know you’re probably upset with me, Nick, but--"

He strolled toward her. "Upset with you? Why? Because you disappeared without a word last Thursday? Because you refused to take my calls or answer your door, leaving me worried sick about you? Because you quit without a single word as to why?"

She had the good grace to look sheepish, refusing to meet his gaze. She glanced down at the metal dolphins spinning around each other in wild circles. "Nick, this is so hard. I … oh, sit down, will you, please?"

"No." He wanted to be ready if she made a break for the door.

She sighed. "All right. Nick, I didn’t come here to pick up my things."

His eyebrow shot up. "Oh? Why else would you be here at this time of night. I assume you wanted to avoid running into me."

"On the contrary." She stared steadily into his eyes. "You weren’t at home so I came here looking for you."

Hope fluttered inside him. "Why?"

"Well, it’s about the mystery woman you’ve been searching for. The Cinderella who crashed your masquerade ball."

"Really?" So, was she finally ready to confide in him?

She walked while she spoke, stepping out from behind his desk. "I know you received a call from an insurance company telling you they knew who she was. I also know that they’ve refused to give you the information."

"You do?" He’d forgotten all about that call until he’d gone to talk to Rachel and realized it was the cause of the difficulties between him and Vanessa. He’d never returned the adjuster’s call and, strangely enough, the man hadn’t followed up. "How do you know that?"

She waved away his question. "It doesn’t matter. The point is, I know who she is."

He folded his arms across his chest. "Do you now?"

"Yes, and … well, I’m not going to tell you any more about it until I find out a few things from you."

A smile tickled the corners of his mouth, but he held it back, continuing to look stern. "And what might that be?"

"Nick, please sit down."

This time he complied, sitting on the couch, which stood nearer the door than the chairs. She stood facing him, several feet away.

"I heard you talking to Amy on Thursday. I…." Her gaze dropped to her fingers, which she’d twisted tightly around each other. "I know you plan to find her and … that you’ve decided she’s the woman of your dreams."

At the look of pain that flashed across her pale face, he began to feel guilty about what he was putting her through. "Vanessa, let me--"

She cut him off with a wave. "No, Nick. Let me finish. I know you think you want
her
… and, believe me, I understand all about fantasies. I went after a fantasy myself once." Her eyes misted as she stared deeply into his own. "I know you have the right to do the same thing. I just think you should know that…." She averted her eyes. "I love you, Nick." She turned away from him and marched over to the office door. Nick started to panic, thinking she might flee yet again. Before he could leap to his feet, he heard the click of the lock. She turned back to face him, her hands still holding the knob behind her, in a delightfully sexy pose. "And I’m going to fight for you."

"You are?"

He watched in fascination as she slowly released the buttons of the long suit jacket she wore. Glimpses of black lace teased as she sauntered toward him.

He felt his pulse quicken as she dropped the jacket over her shoulders, revealing the skimpy black lace dress he’d given her, the one she’d refused to model. His hungry gaze took in every inch of her body enmeshed in stretch lace. Somehow, the skimpy dress, with the conservative blazer now draped at her elbows, looked unbelievably wicked.

She dropped the jacket to the floor and turned around slowly, with a swing to her hips that proved incredibly enticing.

"Nick, I know we can’t build a relationship on physical attraction alone." Standing right in front of him now, she reached out and ran her fingers through his hair, sending ripples of pleasure along his nerve ends. "But I believe that you love me, and I intend to hang onto you any way I can, until you admit it to yourself … and to me."

"Vanessa, I…."

She trapped his lips beneath her fingertip. "No. Don’t say anything yet." She planted her lips firmly on his as she grasped his lapels and eased herself onto his lap. Her short skirt hiked up even higher as she slid her knees onto either side of his thighs, straddling him, stroking her hands under his jacket to slip it off. He tossed it away as quickly as possible and clamped his arms around her. She stared down at him, holding his gaze as she dropped first one, then the other, ribbon strap off her shoulder.

"Nick, tell me you want me."

"Oh, Lord, Vanessa. Of course, I want you."

She smiled in satisfaction and reached around to unzip the dress, thrusting her breasts forward. He stroked a hand over one, then the other, as he drew the dress down. Her pert breasts, swollen in anticipation of his touch, stood proud and naked before him. He drew one erect nipple into his mouth, feeling his own erection straining against his fly. Her tiny gasp made his pleasure almost painful. Her hand slid over him, and he felt the pressure ease with the rasping of his zipper, then he was the one to gasp as her hand closed around him.

"Vanessa. Oh, sweetheart."

"You really do want me, don’t you?"

She slid her dress up in an enticing shimmy and shifted over him. He gasped as he felt her hot, moist body close around him. He couldn’t believe it. Being pinned to this couch by a wild seductress who now slowly and expertly made love to him was beyond his wildest fantasy. How could Vanessa possibly believe she couldn’t live up to his fantasy woman?

He stroked her back and, as their pace quickened, planted his hands on her hips, helping her rise and fall to their shared rhythm.

"Nick," she cried out on a lingering gasp. Her muscles tightened around him, sending him over the edge of reality into paradise.

As she slumped in his arms, he held her against him, savoring the feel of her, the slippery sweet smell of her, and reveling in the fact that she loved him. The marvelous thought kept swirling through his head, dancing like a tipsy butterfly. Vanessa loved him.

"Vanessa."

Her head lolled on his shoulder and he could feel her smile. "Mmm?" The sound came out low and musical.

"Sweetheart, I know who Cinderella is, too."

"Hmm?" This time it came out sharp and jerky, as her head flew up. "What did you say?" Her fingernails dug into his shoulders.

He looked into her startled eyes and decided to change tracks. "Why did you leave?"

Her lips pinched together. "Because I thought you didn’t want me, that you wanted some fantasy you’d created."

"Why did you think that?"

"Right from the beginning I knew you wanted someone like Amy. Beautiful, intelligent, ambitious, career-oriented--everything I’m not."

"I admit, I used to think I wanted someone like Amy. Until I met you. And for the record, you are beautiful and intelligent. You’re also much, much more."