The Cinderella Obsession (9 page)

The little minx became more and more interesting all the time.

"And why were you looking for it?"

"Well, you said you thought it was antique." She glanced down and, seeing the still open drawer, slammed it shut and stepped away as though it might bite her. "I thought I’d take it to an antique jeweler and see if they could tell us if the owner could be tracked somehow."

"I see. And why didn’t you just ask me for it?"

She wiped her hands along the side of her skirt. "You … uh, I didn’t think of it until you’d gone to your meeting and I hoped I could have it all taken care of before you got back."

She looked so anxious, so vulnerable, he wanted to enfold her in his arms and tell her everything would be all right--but she was lying. He couldn’t help her unless she was honest with him. Still, he had to fight back the protective desire to crush her to him.

"That was very thoughtful of you. However, it won’t be necessary. I spoke to a jeweler yesterday and he’s looking into it. He said he’s heard of an eccentric who collected all kinds of unusual fairy tale paraphernalia. She died about a decade ago, but he thinks he can get a list of her estate sale, along with photographs of the items. If he does, and these earrings were part of her collection, I may be in luck. If that doesn’t work, he suggested I talk to some insurance companies. The owner may have taken a policy out on the earrings and the insurance company would be only too happy to help me track down the owner, since it would mean saving the money of a claim."

"Oh." The word came out as a croak and Vanessa cleared her throat before going on. "That’s great."

He could tell she didn’t really mean it. As he gazed into Vanessa’s bright, troubled blue eyes, he wondered what was bothering her. It was almost as if she didn’t want him to find his mystery woman.

An interesting thought bolted through his mind.

"Vanessa, is the woman who came to my party as Cinderella a friend of yours?"

"No, of course not," she stuttered, backing away. Her head swung back and forth in a very unconvincing manner. "I … I’ve got to go to personnel. They’ve got more papers they want me to sign." She spun around and raced toward the door.

This woman was almost as good at fleeing as his Cinderella.

"Vanessa."

She stopped at the door and slowly turned back to face him, anxiety quivering across her face.

"When you’re through, I want to speak with you."

"I don’t know how long they’ll need me and you have an appointment at--"

He glanced at his watch. "I’ll expect you here at three-thirty, Vanessa."

His firm command brooked no argument and she gave none, but the spark of--was it fear--that glittered in her eyes made him feel like a heel. But he had to get answers to the questions that had started bursting inside him.

Was it possible she wanted to take the earring to remove the major clue in his search for the mystery woman? And was it possible his mystery woman knew he was searching for her and didn’t want to be found?

He was determined to find out.

After all, his obsession with finding Cinderella was making him see things that weren’t there. The way Vanessa worked, trying to anticipate every need, she just might have been telling the truth.

He sat down and pulled the drawer of his desk open, then pushed a few things around, seeing nothing that would be of particular interest to anyone. As he closed the drawer and sat back in his chair, he remembered how jumpy she’d been when he’d walked into the office and caught her going through his desk. He also remembered how Vanessa had almost walked away yesterday without giving the earring back. And the way she’d stared at it as he’d held it dangling--with longing and desperation in her eyes.

I love a mystery
, he thought, smiling. And with Vanessa as the mystery … well, he’d enjoy unraveling her.

* * * *

Vanessa stayed away as long as she could, running any errand she could think of to keep her busy until three-thirty, but finally she had to open the door of Nick’s office and step into the spider’s lair. She felt exactly as a fly must, caught in a sticky web of deception and struggling desperately to get free. The deception was hers, not Nick’s, but he was the one with all the power. The spider.

As she turned the knob and pushed open the door, she wondered where this conversation would lead.

"Vanessa, come in."

Said the spider to the fly.

What did he really think about her going through his desk? Had he decided she was a petty thief, or worse? Would he fire her after all?

It became even more imperative that he didn’t find out she and Cinderella were the same person. To protect Rachel’s job.

Good heavens, she didn’t know how much more of this she could cope with. If she could just get that earring back, that would put a crimp in his search. Then it wouldn’t matter if Vanessa lost this job.

If only she could find some way to get his jacket off and retrieve her earring from the pocket. She was sure that was where he was keeping it.

It was time to get a little more aggressive. She knew Nick was attracted to her. Maybe she could use that attraction to her benefit.

Nick sat at the round meeting table by the window, so Vanessa sat down in the soft leather chair beside him.

"Do you want a coffee?" he asked. She nodded and he walked over to the coffee pot on his credenza and poured her a cup, adding cream, no sugar.

"How did you know how I like it?" she asked, taking the cup from his hand.

"I’m very observant."

That’s what I’m worried about
.

He sat down, shifting his chair to face her, pressing his hands on his knees. "Now, I have a few questions I want to ask you about the mystery woman who attended my party."

Her stomach clenched, but she kept her face calm. What did he suspect? Earlier, he’d asked if she knew Cinderella. Surely, he didn’t suspect that Vanessa and Cinderella were the same person. After all, he probably expected
her
to be some socialite. Even so, some heavy duty distraction might work well right about now. What she planned to do might not be the most professional behavior, but she was getting desperate.

She crossed her legs and reached down to her ankle, smoothing her stocking the length of her calf. Nick’s eyes followed her every move, she noted with satisfaction.

"What are you doing?" he asked.

"I’m fixing my stocking. Do go on."

He cleared his throat and dragged his gaze back to her face. "I … uh, wanted to ask you a few questions about Cinderella."

She perched on the edge of her seat and started to take off her jacket. She knew very well that when she shrugged both shoulders down to slide it off, her breasts thrust forward in a very provocative way.

Nick shot to his feet. "Here, let me."

She stood up, allowing him to help her off with the jacket, his gaze steady on her bosom. She could feel it like a caress. Her chest started to tighten and her breathing quickened. This was not a game she was used to playing.

"Thank you. I find it a little warm in here." She allowed her gaze to trail across his broad shoulders. She felt bold and aggressive--and determined to find her earring.

Smiling in what she hoped was a coquettish manner, she stepped close to him and reached up to trail her fingers down his lapels. "Don’t you find it a little warm in here?" She started to undo the top button of his jacket.

"Vanessa." Her name sounded like a silky warning.

She undid the second button and slid her hands inside and up to his shoulders, trying to coax the jacket off. It was half-way down his shoulders when he shrugged it back on, trapping her hands under the collar.

Rats. She’d almost gotten the darned thing off.

"What in heaven’s name are you doing?" he asked, his voice a bit shaky.

"I was just helping you off with your jacket," she answered innocently.

Slowly, she withdrew her hands, trying to be nonchalant as she slid them down his chest and over his shirt pockets, searching for the rolled up handkerchief. She was startled to feel his nipples harden under her caress, and his breathing accelerate.

His arms clamped around her and he pulled her tight to his body. "Vanessa, if you don’t stop immediately I won’t be responsible for my actions."

The feel of his hard body pressed against hers, of his hammering heart beating against her chest, made her sway. She grabbed his shoulders and his hand caressed the length of her spine to steady her. Her heartbeat accelerated to match his.

This was getting out of hand. She had to pull away from his warm, seductive body, to free herself from the strength of his arms. And she would. In a moment.

"Nick, I--"

"Vanessa," his rumbling voice warned, "this isn’t a game you should be playing." His gaze seared hers as his hand descended her back, slowly, sending tingles through her entire body.

"What do you mean?

"I mean, you’re making me so hot I don’t know what I’m doing." His gaze swept over the rise of her breasts and she gasped. "And it’s clear I’m having the same effect on you."

Vanessa didn’t have to look down to realize that her nipples were standing erect with wanting him.

"But … I didn’t mean…."

"I’m sure you didn’t," he
said in a husky voice
. He shifted his hips and she felt how aroused he was. "But," he murmured against her ear, "that doesn’t change the results."

Panic skittered through her and she pushed on his chest with the flat of her palms. He released her instantly.

Her breath rasped erratically from her lungs and her pulse felt like a herd of galloping horses. She’d had no idea she would affect him so much. The feeling was a heady one, but dangerous, too. She could grow to enjoy it too much, to want him too much--and that was the way to get hurt. Nick had Amy, and even if he didn’t, he’d want someone
like
Amy. Vanessa could not allow herself to forget that.

"Nick, I’m sorry. I only wanted … I mean, I just…." Good heavens, she couldn’t tell him she wanted to get his jacket off. What would he possibly think?

"I know what you wanted."

Her eyes flared wide. "You do?"

He smiled. "Yes. With your usual helpful attitude, you wanted to get this." He tugged the earring from his pocket and dangled it in front of her. "I’m sure you have some new plan to help me find Cinderella and you wanted to surprise me. I’m thrilled that you’re taking such an active interest in helping me track her down."

"You are?" Did this mean he’d give her the earring?

He closed his fingers around the tiny slipper. "But I don’t intend to let this out of my sight. Got it?"

"Y-yes. Of course."

He smiled. "Good. Now why don’t you put some of your ideas for finding her down on paper and we can go over them tomorrow?"

"Okay," she stuttered, backing toward the door. She slipped out and closed it behind her, relieved to escape.

She slumped into her chair and stared at the computer. Nick wanted her to give him ideas on how to find Cinderella. If she did a good job, he’d be able to track her down more easily. If she didn’t, he might think her useless and transfer her. Then she wouldn’t be able to stop him from tracking her down. Good heavens, how had she gotten into a mess like this?

* * * *

Nick sat down on the couch and tried to recapture control of his body. He wiped his hands across his face, then inhaled deeply, trying to slow his racing heart.

She’d definitely been after the earring. No matter what the little minx said, she’d been searching for it in his pockets and getting his jacket off had been part of her plan. Her sheer desperation surprised him. What was her total fascination with that earring? It was almost as though … He shot ramrod straight in his seat. Almost as though it was something treasured she’d lost--and now it had been found, but it was beyond her reach.

Almost as if it were hers?

Good heavens, could Amy have been right? Had some kind of female intuition made her aware of a truth Nick would never even have guessed?

Could Vanessa be his mystery woman?

Nick knew what he had to do. If he could kiss her he was sure he’d be able to tell if Vanessa was his Cinderella. Which meant he had to get her alone for a while, outside the office.

If he could get her back to the scene of the crime, so to speak….

Vanessa felt prickles down her spine as the limousine pulled through the huge wrought iron gates of the estate. How had things possibly turned around to bring her back to Nicholas Powers’ mansion again? She’d been certain after that one marvelous night, she would never set foot in his house again, but she’d received a call from Nick this morning, claiming that he had to work from home and he needed her to help him sort through some reports for a meeting this afternoon.

The car pulled to a stop in front of the huge double doors and the chauffeur leaped out and opened her door with quiet efficiency. Another of Mr. Powers’ minions, she thought, ready to spring to his service. She thanked him, then walked up the granite steps to the entrance and clanked the brass knocker three times. The butler answered within moments and swept her off to the library.

On the way, Vanessa glanced around, taking in the feel of the place without a crowd of costumed figures obscuring the view. A gigantic stone fireplace dominated one wall of the living room they passed through. Vanessa could almost imagine her stepmother as a young woman sitting in front of the fire reading a book. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t imagine her as a child, laughing and playing with toys on the floor. She’d always been too dour, too lacking in joy.

The butler opened French doors leading to the library. Nick sat amidst piles of papers scattered around him on the large oak desk. He wore jeans and a light green cotton sweater, the sleeves pushed up to the elbows. How could the man contrive to look so devastatingly attractive in even the most casual clothing? She straightened her own white blazer, feeling a little overdressed in a suit.

"Vanessa, thank you for coming." He gestured her to a chair beside him.

"I really didn’t have a choice, did I?"

His eyebrows slashed down. "You sound resentful. I thought you’d enjoy a day out of the office. A change of scene and all that."

She sat down beside him, finding it hard to maintain her annoyance with sunlight streaming in the large window and the view of trees and flowers outside.

"I’m sorry, I … I’m just not used to such a casual setting to work in."

Not that the library was exactly casual-looking, with wall-to-wall books on large oak shelves, leather chairs, and heavy velvet drapes on the window, tied back with thick fringed cords. Elegant and masculine.

They settled into work and after about an hour, Nick stretched, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I don’t know about you, but I need a break. Come on, let’s go for a walk."

He reached out and took her hand, pulling her to her feet.

"Out in the garden?" she asked. The musical chirping of birds and the light breeze wafting through the window, carrying with it the scent of
lilac
s, had been calling to her.

"If you like." His smile matched the sunshine and suddenly the
huge room seemed far too small.

He hadn’t let go of her hand and she became acutely conscious of the touch of his fingers, of the feel of his palm pressed against hers. The color of his irises changed subtly as he stared down at her, a steadily darkening blue. What did he see in her eyes? Was her desire as obvious as his? He brought his hand to her cheek, touching it gently with the tips of his fingers. Sparks of awareness flitted through her at each point where his skin touched hers. His eyes kept hers totally captivated while he curled his fingers around the back of her neck and drew her toward him. She felt herself rising onto her toes, moving to meet him. His full, sensuous lips parted in preparation and she watched his mouth with longing, anticipating his touch, wanting to nibble on that lower lip and drive him absolutely wild.

Why did she feel this way about Nick? Why did she have to be attracted to a man who lived in a different world than she did
?  A man who
seemed to think nothing of dating one woma
n and chasing after another one?
Two, actually, if she counted Cinderella.

She splayed her hands across his chest and pushed.

"No, Nick."

"But…." Confusion clouded his eyes.

"You said we’d go out in the garden for a walk."

Fresh air was exactly what she needed right now. She hurried out of the library and headed toward the French doors that led to the patio. She pushed them open and stepped outside. The light
warm
breeze, fragrant with the scent of a multitude of blossoms, caressed her cheek. She breathed deeply, filling her lungs with the aroma, clearing them of Nick’s disturbing scent. Turning around, she saw Nick leaning against the door, smiling at her.

"Tell me, Vanessa. How did you know your way here?"

Confused as to why he’d ask, she answered, "You chauffeur brought me."

He laughed. "I meant out here to the yard."

"I … uh." Good heavens. She’d been so anxious to put some distance between them that she’d dropped her guard and fled through the house on a path she couldn’t possibly have known if she hadn’t been here before. "I have a feeling about these things sometimes … and a good sense of direction helps," she stammered. She turned and pattered along the granite stepping stones, eager to avoid any other questions, but he scooped up her hand, enveloping it in his own. He led her down another familiar path, toward the gazebo.

"Do you like
lilac
s? The bushes at the end of the garden are laden with them this time of year."

"I love
lilac
s."

As reluctant as she was to return to the scene of their devastating kiss, she followed his lead, not wanting to alert him to her nervousness. The sweet, heady scent of
lilac
s drifted through her, a poignant reminder of that magical night … of being held in Nick’s arms … of giving to him without restraint, unguarded, wanting only what he could give her. If only….

"What is it, Vanessa?"

She glanced up to see Nick watching her intently. They’d arrived at the gazebo and they stood beside the very pillar where … She drew her hand from his and started to duck past him but he caught her wrist.

"Stay." That one word, softly spoken, stopped her. She leaned back, feeling the smooth wood against her back, and watched as he raised one finger to tip up her chin and gently caressed her lower lip with his thumb. The feel of his slightly callused thumb rubbing on her sensitive flesh sent a quiver through her.

"It seems you’re always running away from me. Why is that?"

"I’m not. I…." She couldn’t think with him so close, with him caressing her lip, making her insides turn to mush.

"I think you’re afraid."

"Afraid of what?" she croaked.

"Afraid of me. Afraid of what you feel when you’re near me."

"No, I…."

He smoothed his fingers across her cheek. Her eyes fluttered closed at the sheer, unadulterated pleasure of his touch.

"You see what I mean?" he whispered. "I barely have to touch you and you melt. What if I were to…."

Her eyelids snapped open as his arms swept around her and he pressed her body against the length of his. "Do you know how badly I want to kiss you? How badly I want to open your silky lips with my tongue and discover the warmth inside your mouth?"

Her eyes grew wide and she felt her knees weakening, her body leaning against his for support.

"Will you let me kiss you, Vanessa?"

"I … I don’t think it would be a good idea."

"I do." He brushed his lips against her cheek, sending swirling tremors racing through her. "I think it’s a wonderful idea." He fluttered tiny butterfly kisses over her eyes, across her temple, around her ear. Her breathing grew raspy, her eyes closed and all she could think of was the night of the masquerade, of that explosive kiss they’d shared, and of wanting to feel the magic again, no matter what the cost.

"Kiss me, Vanessa."

A soft moan escaped her. Without conscious thought she lifted her mouth to his seeking lips, wanting--needing--to relive the passion of that night.

Nick's anticipation flared uncontrollably as her lips approached his. As soon as her mouth touched his, as soon as he felt her lips tremble beneath his own, then press against his with building passion, he knew.

Vanessa was his Cinderella! His fantasy in the flesh.

Joy surged through him as he realized he’d finally found his mystery woman. He couldn’t believe she was here in his arms. He was afraid to let her go for fear she might disappear again.

She was even more exhilarating than he remembered. And the need she triggered in him was even more intense. A shimmering radiance swelled inside him, blocking out all coherent thought.

Vanessa quivered as she felt his lips, tantalizingly warm on her own, ignite her inner desire. His mouth moved gently at first, then with more vigor as his tongue brushed the edges of her inner softness. His strangled groan coaxed her from her passivity. Her hands shot up around his neck and she pulled him closer, feeling her breasts crush against his chest. Her tongue caressed his eagerly, as he stroked his hands down her back, pulling her pelvis into his until she could feel the hardening contours of his body.

She tensed and tore her mouth away. What had she been thinking? She couldn’t allow this. Was it too late? Had he found her out?

In his eyes she saw only the bewildered expression of a man caught up in unexpected passion. She saw no shock of recognition, only the desire to continue what they’d started.

How could he not recognize her? Although she was relieved, she had to admit she was also hurt. Had it meant so little to him?

"Vanessa, I--"

"No, Nick. We shouldn’t have done that. I--"

"Excuse me, Mr. Powers."

The sound of the butler calling Nick’s name from the doors stopped them both.

"What is it, Garvins?" Nick called back, never taking his eyes from Vanessa.

"
Mr. Tanner
from your
London
office is on the telephone.  He said he couldn’t reach you on your cell phone, but he has a
n important
matter he must discuss with you.
  He said you’d know what it was about.
"

"Damn," he muttered. "I’ve got to take that, Vanessa."

She nodded.

"Thank you, Garvins. I’ll take it in the library."

"Very good, sir."

He held her gaze captive as he spoke intently. "You stay right here. I’ll only be a few moments."

She nodded again, not wanting to speak, knowing her voice would tremble. He released her with obvious reluctance and returned to the house.

Nick strode to the library, cursing the timing of the London office.
He’d ignored his vibrating cell phone when he’d been in the garden with Vanessa, because he hadn’t wanted to be disturbed.

At least he now knew for certain Vanessa was his mystery woman. As soon as his lips had touched hers, he’d been drawn into her powerful magic, swept away to a passionate world of wanting.

Now, if he could only figure out why she’d decided to hide her identity from him.

He picked up the phone and dealt with the business at hand, pulling back the curtain to gaze out at Vanessa. She sat on the white bench beside the gazebo, wringing her hands together and staring at the house with a haunted desperation in her eyes.

She was definitely afraid. Why?

Suddenly, she stood up and strode toward the house. Thank heavens. For a moment, he thought she’d flee through the bushes as she had the night of the party.

As soon as he finished this call, he would bring her back here and tell her he’d discovered her secret. He would break it to her gently, then assure her everything was all right and tell her he wanted to sit down and talk about that night. About that kiss and the effect it had on both of them.

He hadn’t expected the same explosive intensity of that first time but, if anything, this time had been more emotionally shocking. By the time she’d pulled away, all he could think of was how to convince her to give him more, to surrender all of herself to their shared passion. He’d do anything to have her in his bed. But something inside cautioned him that might not be enough. He’d have to proceed carefully. He didn’t want to hurt Vanessa, and he didn’t want to lose himself.

When he finally wrapped up the business call, he glanced at his watch. It had taken longer than he expected. Vanessa had probably gone off to find Garvins and get a cup of coffee. After he jotted down a few quick notes, he went in search of her, but she was nowhere to be found. Garvins stood in the kitchen, seeing to the details of lunch.

"Where’s Vanessa?"

Garvins glanced up at Nick, his face as expressionless as usual. "Ah, Ms. Graham told me she had something pressing to do at the office. She seemed in a bit of a hurry."

"She’s gone?" Nick felt his chest tighten at the acute sense of loss.

"I’m afraid so, sir."

Damn. She’d fled after all. Would he ever get her to stay in one place long enough to explore their attraction?