A Winter's Vow (A Winter's Tale Series Book 3)

by Kristi Tailor

Resting his forehead against hers, he let out a painful breath. “You’re making this extremely difficult for me.”

  “Good,” she smiled, bringing her hands to his slacks and loosening her legs just barely, in hopes of dislodging his belt. When Nicholas didn’t stop her, she went further still, undoing his button and then sliding her hand into his pants, her fingers boldly covering his erection, stroking the soft skin until he cried out, his large body shuddering above her. She was unraveling his resolve one thread at a time. “Charlotte,” he pleaded. “I’m trying to−”

  “Shh,” she cooed. “I know what you’re trying to do,” she spoke softly, her declaration gentle. “But I need you inside of me.”

  Licking his lips, Nicholas closed his eyes. His determination was weakening, dismantling quickly. “I’m doing this for you,” he tried. “I love you enough to wait until we’re married.”

  “What if I don’t want to wait?” she asked, stubbornly, her deep brown eyes commanding.

  “What if I do?” Nicholas protested.

  Though her mouth no longer held his captive, her fingers continued their own tantalizing attack on his manhood, causing him to stiffen above her.

  “Is that really what you want?” she challenged, her eyes taunting him.

  “Y− yes,” he stuttered.

  Charlotte licked her swollen lips, contemplatively. “Fine,” she said after a while, releasing her hold on him. “If that’s what you want.”

  Nicholas moved then, soberly standing to his feet. Straightening his pants, he stared down at her, amused. “Don’t be upset.”

  “What type of man are you if you can’t see to your woman’s needs?” she bit at him, feeling frustrated.

  Nicholas fought to keep his face an unreadable mask. While her words were meant to hurt him, he couldn’t help but to find humor in them. She was intoxicating, even in her anger, and it was his undoing.

  “Well,” she pressed when he didn’t respond.

  “Well, what?”

  “Answer my question.”

  Rubbing his fingers down his face, Nicholas shook his head at her. “How was your day?” he asked, attempting to change the subject.

  “Why can’t you answer my question?”

  “Why are you trying to start an argument?”

  Staring up at him, Charlotte pressed her lips into a thin line. She was angry, it was apparent, and while she knew that her anger had nothing to do with him, she couldn’t help turning him into the scapegoat.

  “Do you want to talk about it?” he asked.

  “Sure. Let’s talk about how you refuse to make love to the woman you’re supposedly in love with,” she snapped.

  Nicholas laughed then, unable to hold back the need to do so any longer. “I’m sorry,” he uttered when her mouth twitched hostilely. The last thing he wanted to do was provoke her, but she made it so easy.

  “Glad to know that I amuse you.”

  “Come on, Charlotte,” he sighed. “You know damn well you’re not that pissed that I didn’t screw you on your couch. There’s something else bothering you, and you’re taking it out on me,” he said knowingly.

  “Screw me on my couch,” she repeated his words, evading his gaze.

  Taking a seat beside her, Nicholas gripped her face with strong hands. “What’s wrong?” he asked, forcing her to look at him.

  Closing her eyes at his touch, Charlotte let out a low wail. “I messed up at work today,” she said, her voice small.

  “How so?” he asked, stroking her cheek with gentle fingers.

  Opening her eyes once more Charlotte regarded him intently before she spoke. “After the meeting, Penelope stayed behind to inquire about your whereabouts. She was beyond rude and even more annoying than usual. . . and I snapped at her.”

  “Oh,” Nicholas chuckled. “Is that all?”

  “No, Nick. I went too far,” she whined. “I told her that with one word she’d be jobless, and that I could get you to do pretty much whatever I wanted because you’re my fiancé.”

  “Oh, really?” he asked, suppressing a smile. “Anything you want?”

  Charlotte paused, a blush rising to her cheeks. “Yes,” she admitted, her browns studying him, waiting for him to deny her words.

  “Go on,” he prompted.

  “That’s pretty much the gist of it all,” she huffed. “I’m sorry.”

  Nicholas frowned. “What are you sorry for?”

  “I told you that I didn’t want any of our colleagues to know about our relationship, but the very first time someone stepped on my toes I used our relationship as a weapon to inflict fear. That’s not okay. I’m sure she’s spread the word of our engagement by now.”

  “Do you want me to fire her?” he asked, suddenly serious.

  Charlotte gazed at him steadily. “What?”

  “Do you . . . want me . . . to fire her?” he spoke slowly, his voice a seductive whisper.

  Charlotte ran her tongue across her bottom lip, slowly pulling it into her mouth. “You would really do that for me?”

  Nicholas’ silver gaze darkened at her words, causing her heart to leap in her chest. There was something in the way he looked at her, in his quietness, that stole her breath away. “I would do anything for you,” he admitted after what felt like a long stretch of time.

  Charlotte glanced at him sideways, studying him. “I love you,” she exhaled.

  Leaning into her, Nicholas smiled against her lips. “I love you, too,” he declared. “So much, too much,” he admitted, his tone light.

  Charlotte’s eyes watered at his confession. “Kiss me,” she murmured, the words were a plea.

  Bending his head, Nicholas claimed her mouth, tenderly parting her lips with the tip of his tongue, stroking her senses until a low cry of ecstasy filled the space between them. It was all he could do not to take her right there on the living room couch, but his mind had been made up, and he would not falter. For all the ways he had wronged her in secret, at least in this, his vow to do right by her would not be in vain.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Nicholas lay beside Charlotte in the darkness of her bedroom, his arms draped around her thin frame, his hand in her thick black hair. He had been like that for some time, awake in the silence of the space, his thoughts overpowering his need to sleep, his mind unable to find a reprieve from the chaos that had become his life. Moving slightly to his right, Nicholas repositioned his long torso, adjusting his weight so that he could stare down at Charlotte. She was beautiful, even in the darkness she was a sight to behold. With a learned patience, Nicholas brazed his fingertips along her cheek, ever so gently, his touch barely awakening her senses. Slowly, he caressed the edge of her mouth, the stroke of his thumb effortlessly tantalizing her being until she stirred beneath him.

  Blinking rapidly, Charlotte squinted her eyes to see in the blackness. “Nicholas,” she breathed. “What are you doing?” Bringing her hands to her face, she wrinkled her nose seemingly exhausted, her skin still tingling from his touch. Gasping inwardly, Charlotte sat up quickly, her left hand out in front of her. “Nicholas!” she cried happily, squinting her eyes in the dark room to see the ring on her finger, her mouth gaped open. “Turn on the light.”

  Nicholas did as he was told, reaching for the bedtable lamp without pause. “Do you like it?” he asked.

  Charlotte glanced up at him, stunned. “I love it,” she said, her gaze once again on the large yellow diamond covering her thin finger. “Nicholas, it’s beautiful. But are you sure that it isn’t too much?” she asked, her dark browns ogling the shimmering diamond.

  “Too much?” he contemplated her question for the briefest moment and then shook his head, disregarding the thought. “I thought it would look perfect on your hand, I was right.”

  “How long have you had it?”

  “A few weeks, but when we decided to keep our engagement under wraps I didn’t see a point in giving it to you yet, if you couldn’t wear it all the time.”

  Charlotte met
his gaze. “Sorry,” she sighed. “I’ve been a pain in the ass, I’m sure.”

  He laughed then. “No more than usual,” he shrugged, unbothered. “But you told Penelope yesterday so”

  “So . . . I’m sure the entire office knows by now,” she said, finishing his sentence. Dragging her small fingers through her hair, she rested her forehead against her palms. “I can only imagine how badly she dramatized what I said,” she sighed, biting down on her bottom lip in deep thought. Her expression was a guarded one.

  “Are you okay with that?”

  Nodding her head, Charlotte leaned into him, her lips brushing against his lightly. “We’re really getting married,” she exhaled, joyfully. “I can’t believe that I’m going to be your wife,” she beamed, giggling. “I would have settled for being your girlfriend.”

  A boyish smile covered Nicholas’ lush mouth. “What?” he laughed, the sound mirroring hers. “I’m going to need you to raise your expectations for the future.”

  Shrugging, Charlotte looked down at her ring once more. “I just wanted to be something to you . . . anything really would have sufficed.”

  “Really?” he smirked. “So . . . this whole time you had a thing for me?”

  “Don’t pretend that you didn’t know,” Charlotte groaned, exasperated. “You had to have known.”

  “I really didn’t. If I had, we would have gotten together a lot sooner.”

  “I don’t believe that.”

  “Why not?” he asked, laying back down and pulling her with him.

  “You’ve dealt with your share of women in the past two years . . . starting something with me would have meant leaving your playboy days behind. I don’t know if you were ready for that.”

  He raised an eyebrow, clearly entertained. “Have you been talking to my brother?”

  “No, why?” Charlotte frowned, confused.

  “He called me out on my so- called player ways yesterday.”

  “Yesterday? Caleb’s in town?” she asked.

  “Yeah. He flew in yesterday and leaves today.”

  “Makes sense . . . I wondered why you left work early. Is Menzie with him?”

  “No, he came alone. We had family business to discuss involving Spencer’s company, and then had a few drinks.”

  “Only a few?” Charlotte asked mockingly, pressing her smaller frame into his, already missing the feeling of their bodies being intertwined.

  “More,” he admitted, tightening his hold on her.

  Charlotte nodded her head knowingly. Raising her small hand to his face, she ran her fingers along his jawbone, her fingers lingering over his goatee. “Is everything okay with your family’s business?” she asked quietly. Nicholas barely spoke about his family let alone his father’s business, and while he never clued her in as to why it was such a touchy subject, she didn’t want to ruin his mood, especially when they had so much to be happy about.

  After a long moment, Nicholas finally spoke, his tone nonchalant. “For now.”

  Charlotte processed his words inwardly, and without much thought decided not to ask any more questions on the matter. If he wants me to know he’ll tell me, she figured.

  “There’s been so much going on we’ve barely even talked about the wedding,” he said, interrupting her thoughts. “Do you have any dates in mind?”

  “I had a few, but I’m no longer impressed by the sentiments of living up to the cliché wedding. Working for a bridal magazine has warped my brain,” she scowled.

  Nicholas laughed. “How so?”

  “All of the overdone gestures just make me want to gag. Reading the whimsical chidings of fairytale weddings day after day has me numb to the entire process.”

  “So, you don’t want a big wedding I gather?”

  “Please no,” she groaned. “Actually . . . do you know what would be rather perfect?”

  “What?”

  “If we eloped.”

  “Eloped? Really? I never pegged you as the eloping type.”

  “Neither did I, but it’s something we should consider.”

  “When and where would you like this elopement to happen?”

  “Is next month too soon?” she asked, tilting her head to meet his greys.

  “No, not at all,” he said, shaking his head. “Have you thought of any locations? Brazil is beautiful in April.”

  “Brazil? Uh, I don’t think my parents would be able to afford to pay for a trip that expensive with such short notice. We would probably have to push it back a few months, maybe like mid-summer?”

  “I wouldn’t expect them to pay for the trip. I’ll take care of it,” he assured her.

  “That’s extremely generous of you. I mean really generous, but my dad would never let you pay for his family to travel for his eldest daughter’s wedding. He’s too proud.”

  “I would be paying for Caleb and Menzie as well, and my sister, Rebecca, would be traveling for free. What if you told him that I was paying for both of our families to attend? Would that make a difference?”

  “I don’t know . . . ”

  “Just explain to him that I felt uncomfortable asking people to pay for travel expenses for our wedding and so I took care of it. Tell him that it’s the least that I could do for the man who is allowing me to marry his daughter.”

  Charlotte nodded. “Okay,” she said, smiling brightly. “I’ll see what he says.”

  “And if he is completely against the idea we could decide on something local.”

  “Your parents beach home is beautiful. Do you think they would allow us to have a small ceremony there?”

  Nicholas paused to give the notion some thought. “No,” he shrugged after a while.

  “No . . .? Really? Even though it would only be our parents and siblings− having a wedding at her home seems like a sentiment Muffy would appreciate.”

  “I’m sure she would be thrilled,” he acknowledged, not denying her words.

  “Okay, so−”

  “My parents are not invited to our wedding,” Nicholas said matter- of- factly, offering no explanation.

  Charlotte’s brows furrowed together causing wrinkles to form around her eyes. “Oh,” she said, her tone hushed.

  Bending his head, Nicholas kissed her brow, instantly softening her expression with the touch of his skin on hers. “That’s nothing to be upset about, trust me. If my parents are there, Caleb and Rebecca may not show up, and if they actually do make an appearance it would be to honor their sibling duties and then they’d leave. It wouldn’t be a celebration focused around us, my parents would make it about them,” he explained. “It’s better this way.”

  “I understand,” Charlotte said, meaning it.

  “Good.”

  Looking over Nicholas’ shoulder at her bedside clock, Charlotte dragged in a sobering breath. “It’s almost six,” she whined. “I didn’t know it was so late, we have to be up in twenty minutes.”

  Nicholas grinned at her, his boyish charm beyond captivating. “Let’s sleep in . . . play hooky until lunch.”

  Charlotte’s answering smile was wide. “Could we really do that?”

  “We can do whatever we want,” he shrugged. “Part of the advantage of being the boss.”

  “On the day that they’re expecting us to show up together, after hearing what I’m sure was one remarkable tale of office hook-ups and promiscuous rendezvous’ we arrive four hours late with little cares, and lunch in our hands. That’s bound to piss some people off.”

  “That concerns me,” Nicholas said sarcastically, reaching behind him to turn off the light.

  “Liar,” she whispered. Knotting her legs through his, she rested her head against his chest. Closing her eyes once more Charlotte heaved a sigh of contentment, her mind and body overcome with peace.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Nicholas leisurely made his way down the long hallway that led to his office, his eyes fixed on the thick stack of papers in his hands. With a steady pace, he flipped through the pages not
breaking stride as he passed by employees hurtling past him in frenzied movements. It was twelve hours until the final submission for the Spring publication to be sent off to Fissicle, and all around him hysteria ensued. Looking up briefly, Nicholas stopped to nod at his secretary, his expression blank. Rachel smiled at him, “Good morning, Mr. Elliot. Big day, today,” she acknowledged.

  “That it is,” Nicholas agreed, but offered nothing more on the subject. Knowing his planned fate at Gizzelle Bridal had swayed his way of thinking. While he did hope that the monthly catalog would succeed, it was only for the sake of his employees. He wasn’t a fool, if the magazine’s numbers dropped after the Spring release Fissicle would no doubt get rid of the staff that had come to work for Gizzelle Bridal after the takeover of Leisure Me Ready. It was a hard reality to face, an unfortunate situation created by the man who should have invested in him, but instead orchestrated his defeat, his father. Choking down the realization of his predicament, he walked into his office, his eyes still scanning over the documents in his hands. Rounding his desk, Nicholas dropped the papers onto the mahogany table, his gaze shifting to the manila envelope propped against his computer monitor. Frowning, his brows drew together in quiet perplexity. Reaching for the package he opened it without needless delay, his greys fastened on the contents inside the small casing. Nicholas froze, unable to move as the reality of his transgressions threatened to strangle him, threatened to bring him to his knees. Photographs of him and Blithe on the balcony of her parents’ beach house clouded his senses, plagued his thoughts with regret and revulsion. He had all but forgotten that night, his subconscious skillfully replacing the memory with moments worth remembering. Yet, nearly two months later he held the evidence of his betrayal in his large shaking hands. Letting out a painful breath Nicholas averted his gaze from the prints. Instantly his mind was filled with dread. Someone had seen them, and worse, they had taken pictures. But why? He wondered. Blackmail? His brain immediately began to undertake thoughts of conspiracy and sabotage, the notion causing rage to spread through him, igniting a fever in him that left him feeling dizzy. Angrily he ripped the pictures into tiny remnants until they lay in tattered shreds on his desk, not satisfied until the images were unrecognizable. Roughly pulling his fingers through his hair, Nicholas called for his secretary.