The Glass Slipper Project

by Girard, Dara

  “I can do better than nice.” He covered the top of her breast with his mouth, teasing her nipple with his tongue.

  Isabella sunk to the ground, the throbbing between her thighs growing more intense. “Alex,” his name was a primitive plea on her lips.

  He gathered her in his arms and said, “I’m not doing this here.” He meant to take her upstairs, but when she darted her tongue in his ear, he forgot all about his intentions and rested her on the landing. He struggled to tame the fierceness of his desire, determined to be tender with her. He never thought he could love anything more than the feel of finely sanded wood, but Isabella’s body proved him wrong. No piece of wood, no matter how refined, felt like this. Her body made his hands feel as though they were on fire and he couldn’t get enough of her. They continued roaming over every part of her, feeding the growing ache inside him.

  Alex brought her tiny soft frame close, groaning as her shapely curves seemed to fill the contours of his body, and entered her with a slow, deft motion careful to make her first time as painless as possible. He felt her wince and touched her cheek to soothe her. “Shh, don’t tense up on me. Welcome me inside. You’re going to like this.”

  Isabella stared at him, her eyes bright with unease. “Is that a hope or a promise?”

  He grinned. “It’s a guarantee. I take care of what belongs to me. Trust me.”

  He moved inside her and watched her face; he watched to see what she liked and what she didn’t like. When he didn’t get a positive reaction, he began to pull away ready to find another way to please her.

  Isabella grabbed his arm. “Don’t, keep going.” She arched her pelvis driving him deeper inside the tight warm fit. Her complete surrender was nearly his undoing, but he managed to keep rein on his own passionate desires; he made her enjoyment his ultimate goal. He watched her face flood with pleasure and heard the soft cries of her satisfaction. He never knew what a gratifying activity it could be to watch the rise and fall of her nipples, to notice beads of sweat gather between her breasts, and to see her breathing grow shallow.

  “It’s okay,” she said, trailing a finger along his clenched jaw. “Let yourself go.”

  They both thought they would explode from the force of ecstasy that cascaded over them. Nothing else mattered — not food, time or place — as they tried to satisfy what felt like an insatiable hunger. They made love until they thought their muscles would turn to mush and Alex nearly collapsed on top of her, but rolled away before he did. He closed his eyes trying to remember how to breathe. “I think we’re done.”

  Isabella clicked her tongue in pity though she was as exhausted as he was. “I’ve tired you out. I guess I’ll have to go out and get a younger man.”

  He tightened his hold around her waist. “Just try to get away from me,” he said, his tone a deep, sensuous challenge.

  “I can hardly move.”

  Isabella rested her cheek on his chest, her body feeling light and free as though it could dissolve into thin air. All her life she’d been surrounded by beautiful things and beautiful people, never thinking she could be one of them, but Alex had changed all that. He made her feel gorgeous, as if she were the most desirable woman in the world. “I love you,” she whispered.

  He folded her in his arms and held her tightly. She pressed her lips on his bicep then forearm. Alex opened his eyes and stared up at the ceiling then noticed the railing, swore.

  Isabella sat up and looked at him concerned. “What is it?”

  He covered his eyes and groaned as though in pain. “I took you on the stairs. Your first time and we did it on the stairs.” He let his hand fall and gazed up at her. “I doubt this is what my grandfather had in mind.”

  She rested his hand on her hip then began kissing his chest. “At least we proved this structure was well-made.”

  He skimmed the length of her thigh with due appreciation. “It’s not the only thing that’s well-made.” He stood then lifted her up. “Let’s see if the bed’s well-made, too.”

  They never made it to dinner that night, and nearly missed breakfast and lunch too the following day.

  “I’m starving,” Alex said. They lay in bed together, the bright afternoon sun warming the room through the large bay window.

  Isabella traced a path on his chest. “I’m not.”

  “You’d better get used to eating.” He placed his large hand on the gentle curve of her stomach. “You could be eating for two soon.”

  “That’s not likely.”

  He stilled. “Why not?”

  “I’m on the pill.” She laughed as his expression changed. “Don’t worry. I haven’t been with another man,” she said quickly. “I use it for feminine issues.”

  Alex took a deep breath taking hold of the rush of jealousy that had seized him. “Oh.”

  Isabella placed her hand on top of his and smiled at the thought of carrying his child. “But I can stop anytime you want.”

  His eyes darkened and it was clear that the thought pleased him, too, and for the rest of the day they forgot all about food.

  Chapter 18

  Alex and Isabella spent the next week doing two things: eating and discovering positions in which to enjoy each other. One afternoon, while they were resting, a loud piercing cry invaded the silence.

  “What is that?” Alex asked.

  Isabella listened then jumped up. “Damn, I forgot.”

  “Forgot what?” he asked watching her hastily pull on clothes.

  “Nicodemus.”

  “We haven’t forgotten about him. We’ve fed him every day.”

  “I know, but I haven’t played the piano for days.” She dashed out of the room.

  Alex swore then followed her. He was halfway down the stairs when he remembered he’d forgotten to change. He swore fiercely, returned to the room and pulled on jeans then went downstairs. He found Isabella in the living room opening the piano and talking to the cat beside her who continued to loudly voice his annoyance.

  “I know, I promised,” she said, trying to calm him. “Just give me a minute.”

  “Are you sure there’s nothing else wrong with him?” Alex said wincing as Nicodemus meowed again.

  “No, he likes the piano. It soothes him.” She sat down and flexed her fingers.

  Alex sat beside her. “Okay, get started.”

  Isabella looked at him uncertainly. “Umm…you can’t sit there.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because Nicodemus likes to sit next to me when I play.”

  Alex folded his arms. “Well, too bad.” He looked down at the cat who sat by his foot, staring up at him through narrowed gray eyes.

  “You don’t want to upset him. He can get really nasty.”

  “So what?” He stared down at the cat. “What could you possibly do to me?” Nicodemus continued to stare at him, twitching his tail slowly from side to side. Alex turned to Isabella. “See?” he said, flashing a smug grin. “He knows who’s boss.” At that moment Nicodemus leapt up and locked his claws on Alex’s bare chest. Alex cried out and fell off the piano bench.

  He tried to pull the cat off, but Nicodemus sank his claws in deeper.

  “I’m going to kill him.”

  Isabella fell to her knees and tried to break them apart. “Lie still Alex! Stop and he’ll let go.”

  But he didn’t listen and continued to struggle with the cat.

  “Nicodemus get down!” Her words appeared to work like a switch. He retracted his claws, jumped down then walked over to her.

  Alex sat up then winced, grabbing his chest. He glanced down and saw the blood on his palm and felt streams of it sliding down.

  “You naughty, naughty cat,” Isabella said.

  Nicodemus slowly closed his eyes then opened them again.

  “I should put you in your carrier.”

  “You should put him in that urn,” Alex said, gesturing to the object he’d set on the mantel.

  She frowned at him. “Don’t say things like that.�
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  “Why not? I plan to kill him.” He rose to his feet, holding the cat in his line of vision. Nicodemus arched his back and hissed.

  “Alex, you’re antagonizing him,” Isabella said. “I told you he could get nasty.”

  “Well, so can I.”

  She picked the cat up. “No more fighting.”

  Alex stood and stared at her incredulous. “You’re protecting him?”

  A smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. “I’m protecting you.”

  He narrowed his gaze, insulted.

  “Go upstairs and I’ll bandage you up.”

  He pointed to the cat. “Wait until we’re alone.”

  “Alex,” Isabella said.

  He headed for the stairs. “I’m going.”

  Moments later Alex sat on the bathtub rim while Isabella cleaned his wounds and applied ointment. “He got you really good.”

  “Don’t worry. I’ll return the favor.”

  “You can’t hurt that cat.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because he belongs to Mrs. Lyons.”

  “Which is another reason to teach it a lesson.” Alex suddenly stiffened. Isabella looked up and noticed him staring at something in the distance. She turned and saw Nicodemus sitting in the doorway licking his paw. “A big lesson,” Alex said ominously.

  “Forget about him.”

  Alex pointed to the cat. “You wait ’til she falls asleep. Then it’s just you and me.”

  Isabella grabbed his face, forcing him to look at her. “I told you to forget about him. I’ll deal with him.” She bandaged Alex’s wounds then stared at her handiwork. “There. Just like new. But you’ll have to rest. It seems you’ll have to find something else to occupy your time.”

  He rested his hand on her thigh then began to knead it. “Like what?”

  She moved his hand away. “Something besides what we’ve been doing.”

  His gaze flashed with outrage then grew dangerously cold. “You know that cat’s dead, don’t you?”

  “Don’t say that. I know you don’t mean it.”

  He put his hand back on her thigh and slowly inched upwards. “Do you know what I had planned to do to you tonight?”

  She stepped back from him. “I’ll find out another time. Come lie on the couch. I’ll play for you both.”

  Alex was not pleased with the arrangement, but Isabella managed to convince him to rest on the couch while Nicodemus sat beside her on the piano bench. She played and Nicodemus purred with pleasure. By the time she was finished, Alex was fast asleep.

  With Alex recuperating from his wounds, Isabella knew she had to fill her time with something and decided to go into town to shop. She hadn’t been around people for so long she wondered if everyone could sense what she had been up to for the past week because she was acutely aware of how her body felt.

  “I know what’s going on.”

  Isabella spun around and faced Mrs. Tremain. “I’m sorry?”

  “Your sister found out the truth about them, didn’t she?”

  “What?”

  “I thought about warning you, but I wasn’t sure it was my place. I knew your parents wouldn’t have wanted such a union, but I knew about your desperate situation so I kept my nose out of it, but once I heard what your sister had done, I thought, ‘Bravo.’”

  “Mrs. Tremain, I’m sorry, but I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  She hesitated. “So your sister didn’t tell you why she left?”

  “No, she didn’t.”

  “And Velma hasn’t said anything?”

  “Should she?”

  Mrs. Tremain shrugged, but looked relieved. “Good. It’s best to stay naïve.”

  Isabella’s curiosity about Mrs. Tremain and Velma came to the forefront again. Upon reaching home, she saw Velma working in her flower garden and decided to say hello.

  “I just bumped into Mrs. Tremain.”

  “Oh?” she said with polite interest.

  “She said hello.”

  “That’s nice.”

  “I thought, perhaps we could have her over for dinner?” She watched Velma closely, but Velma revealed nothing.

  She shrugged. “If you want to. How are things going between you and Alex?”

  Isabella shifted awkwardly. “We’re getting to know each other.”

  “That’s good. It’s important to enjoy each other’s company.”

  Isabella felt her face grow warm, remembering just how much they were enjoying each other. “Yes.”

  Because she couldn’t enjoy Alex as she would like to, Isabella busied herself by going on antiquing sprees. One day, when she returned home from shopping, she saw a platinum, silk nightgown on the couch with a note that said Look inside the piano. She did and found a pair of red panties with a note that said Look in the kitchen pantry, which she did and discovered a pink lacy bra with another note leading her to the solarium. Ten minutes later she ended up with five panties, three nightgowns, a garter belt, a white teddy, three bras and a note that said Look in the bedroom.

  Isabella cautiously opened the bedroom door and saw a brand new bedroom ensemble in zebra stripes with curtains to match.

  “Do you want to try it out?” Alex asked from behind her.

  “It’s wild.”

  “That’s how you make me feel. And I remember you wearing something like it before.”

  “I can’t believe you did this.”

  Isabella walked towards the bed then dropped all her new gifts on it. She wouldn’t feel like Gabby’s replacement in this room anymore, it was all hers. Isabella touched the finely woven Egyptian sheets. “It’s beautiful. When did you manage to do all this? You were supposed to be resting.”

  He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “In case you haven’t noticed, I’m feeling better.”

  “I’m noticing it now.” She kissed him back. “Thank you for everything.”

  “You’re welcome.”

  “But you forgot something.”

  “What?”

  “You bought me things for my bed.”

  “Yes.”

  “And things I can wear in my bedroom.”

  “Yes.”

  “But nothing for when I leave it.”

  He stared at her with a blank expression.

  “You didn’t buy me any clothes.”

  “That’s okay. I like you naked anyway.”

  “I doubt you would like me greeting your guests that way.”

  He paused, thoughtful; she hit him.

  “I’m just imagining the look of envy on all the men’s faces.”

  “Yes, come to think of it. I did catch Roland Quick looking at my butt at the engagement party.”

  Alex’s gaze sharpened. “He did?”

  “Yes, and my zebra dress made Matthew Gable think of wild things, too. I wonder what he would have said if he saw me naked. And then there’s…”

  “We’re buying you new clothes tomorrow.”

  “Thank you.”

  “For now, try something on.”

  Isabella began to, but once she stripped down, Alex didn’t see a need for her to put anything back on and they missed yet another dinner.

  Several days later, Alex woke up to a loud piercing scream. He jumped out of bed and raced down the stairs. Isabella crashed into him as she darted around the corner, gripping the urn against her chest.

  He steadied her. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t find Nicodemus anywhere and this urn is full.”

  He shrugged. “So?”

  She stumbled back as if he’d struck her. “Alex, you didn’t.”

  He widened his eyes at her accusation. “Of course I didn’t. The urn is full of dirt. I was bored one day and decided to see how much it could hold. What kind of man do you think I am?”

  “You said —”

  “I know what I said,” he cut in. “But I’d never do it.”

  “Then where is he?”

  “Causing the devil s
ome trouble if we’re lucky.”

  Isabella hit him. “Stop that. We have to find him.”

  Alex shook his head then reluctantly agreed. “Okay, I’ll look outside.” He took the urn from her. “Calm down. I have a bad feeling that he’s fine.”

  Ten minutes later Alex found Nicodemus on the roof. He stared up at the cat with the urge to leave him up there, but knew that Isabella wouldn’t like his decision. He went into the top room alcove then climbed out the window. Alex held out his hand. Nicodemus stared at him, but didn’t move. “Come here you dumb animal.”

  Nicodemus began to arch his back.

  “Okay, okay. Let’s come to a truce. I won’t threaten to kill you and you won’t touch me again. I don’t believe in hurting animals, but I do make exceptions for demon spawn.”

  Nicodemus hissed. Alex raised his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. No more insults. I’ll talk to you nicely. Please come here?”

  Nicodemus turned his head away.

  Alex hung his head in defeat. “Fine, I can wait.” He leaned back against the house, the wood siding warm against his bare back as the summer sun cascaded over the finely manicured lawn. He laughed at the sight he imagined they made: a cat and a half-naked man sitting on a roof. Five minutes passed, then Nicodemus turned and walked up to him. He sat down beside Alex’s thigh and waited.

  At first Alex didn’t move then he held his hand out and Nicodemus pressed his wet pink nose against his palm then bent his head. Alex scratched him behind the ears. “Ah, so I guess we’re friends now, huh? We both pretend to be big bullies but we’re softies inside.” Nicodemus began to purr.

  Isabella peeked her head out of the window. “So this is where you are. I’ve been looking everywhere.”

  Alex picked Nicodemus up then crawled back inside. “We had to discuss a few things.”

  “And everything’s all right now?”

  Alex kissed her on the forehead. “Everything is perfect.”

  As more time passed, Isabella started to believe Alex’s words. Things did seem perfect. She began to settle into her role as mistress of the manor. It was the same title her mother once had: Mistress of 143 Waverly Lane. And she looked the part. As promised, Alex bought her an entire wardrobe of new clothes and jewelry. After their first dinner party, which proved to be a huge success, Alex lay on the bed and watched Isabella slip out of a cream dinner gown he’d had made for her. He’d never get tired of watching her. “I told you that you had nothing to worry about.”