by Carew, Amber
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?
If only he could get her to admit that she was his mystery woman. It seemed clear that she was hiding something. But what? She must be afraid of his reaction if he found out, so he had to alleviate that fear somehow. But doing that hinged on the important question--why was she afraid?
Chapter 7
Nick marched along the corridor of the hospital, then into Rachel’s room.
"Nick, how nice to see you."
"Rachel, you and I have to talk."
Rachel’s eyebrows shot up at his serious tone. He stood by her bed, staring at her questioning face. Wide eyed, with her long brown hair plaited into two braids hanging over the yoke of her flannel nightgown, she looked almost child-like. Innocent. But she wasn’t innocent, he reminded himself. She was as involved in this as Vanessa, he was sure of it.
"About what? Things not going well in the office? You’re still happy with your new secretary, aren’t you?" Worry strained her voice.
"Rachel, I know you and Vanessa are friends."
He hadn't been sure, but Rachel's shift of expression gave her away. She waited, watching him warily, clearly trying to assess his mood.
"I know a few other things, too," he continued.
"Like what?"
"Like the fact that Vanessa was the woman who crashed my party. Like the fact that it must have been you who gave her the invitation … and the costume."
"Amy told me I could pass the invitation on, Nick, and the costume was already paid for. I didn’t really think you’d--"
He flung up his hand to halt her explanation. "I don’t care about any of that. What I need is for you to give me some answers."
"It sounds like you already have all the answers."
"No, I don’t know the most important thing."
"And what’s that?" Her fingers twisted the sheet around, spiraling it into a white coil.
"Why Vanessa did it." He gripped the metal railing of the bed and leaned toward her. "Why did she come to the party in the first place, and why is she hiding from me? She knows I’m trying to find her."
Rachel released the sheet and smoothed it out with her palm, watching the process with intense interest. "Nick, how much do you know about Vanessa?"
He released the cold metal and stepped away from the bed, shoving his fingers through his hair.
"I know she’s a phenomenal secretary."
"Does that mean you won’t fire her?"
"Fire her?" He glanced back at Rachel, noting the worry in her eyes. "That’s not what this is all about, Rachel."
"Then what is it about?"
"I want to know what’s going on. I want to know why Vanessa was so interested in going to a party she wasn’t invited to--where she didn’t know anyone--and why she’s hiding the fact from me."
"I know that’s not all there is to it, Nick."
He shot her a startled glance, his eyes narrowing. "What do you mean?"
"I mean that you’ve been searching for this mystery woman ever since the party. Now you know it’s Vanessa and I’m just wondering what you have in mind."
He sighed, not sure how to answer her. Rachel was Vanessa’s friend and she was concerned about her. "I’m attracted to her, I won’t deny that."
Her gaze darted up to meet his. "And what does that mean exactly?"
He stared at her intently, considering. "I don’t know, I…." He shook his head and sank into the chair beside the bed, sighing. He clasped his hands on his knees, wondering if Rachel would understand. "I’d like to get to know her better, but … she’s different from the women I usually date."
"So what are you going to do?" Her narrowed eyes pierced his composure.
He slapped his hands on his legs and pushed himself to his feet to pace. "I don’t know. I need to hear your answers first. Then…." He turned to her, his arms spread in an appeal. "All I can promise, Rachel, is that I’ll be honest with her."
She plucked at the edge of her blanket with her fingernails. "Okay, that’s all I can expect. I just hope she doesn’t get hurt."
"I don’t intend to hurt her."
"Yeah, well … good intentions don’t always lead to good results."
She sighed and leaned back against her pillow. Nick sank down into the chair again, awaiting Rachel’s explanation.
"Vanessa didn’t have much as a kid," Rachel explained. "Her dad used to work all hours and her stepmother stayed home with the girls. She had two stepsisters--twins--and they took most of her stepmother’s time. The twins, being older, got the only new clothes and Vanessa ended up with hand-me-downs. She never complains, but I get the impression she was a very lonely child, especially after her dad died. She used to read a lot, do crafts, and daydream. Her favorite book was Cinderella, because she had an aunt who used to visit and read it to Vanessa all the time." She glanced up at Nick. "You know about the glass slipper earrings. I hear you have the one she lost."
"That’s right."
"Her aunt gave her those. She’s always treasured them." Rachel pursed her lips. "She really wants it back."
"I noticed." He folded his hands together and rested them between his knees.
"Nick, are you going to tell her you know?"
"No, and I’d like you to promise you won’t either. I’d rather she admit it."
"That’s asking a lot. She’s terrified, you know."
"Of me?" He remembered how she’d quake every time he got close.
"She’s afraid you’ll fire her," she said hesitantly.
Nick straightened in the chair, his brows furrowing. "Because of crashing my party? Damn it, she didn’t do anything wrong."
"I know, but I had to practically twist her arm to attend that party, even though she desperately wanted to go. She’s afraid … not just of being fired--though that’s what she’s telling herself--but of believing in the dream."
"Dream?"
"Yes."
The frustration in that single word heightened his attention.
; "She met Prince Charming at the party just like her aunt always told her she would. Nick, you know you could give her things she’s never had and…." Rachel shook her head. "She just can’t afford to believe in you."
Nick thought about that, about the fact that he could give her all the beautiful things she’d never had. He’d like that--to see her eyes light up when he gave her a new dress or a pretty bauble.
"Rachel, promise you won’t tell her I know?"
"Nick, she’s my friend--"
"Think about it, Rachel. I’ve already figured out that she’s staying on as my secretary to get her earring back, and probably to throw me off track. Am I right?"
Rachel nodded reluctantly.
"If what you’ve just said is true, she’s likely to take off--to leave the job, and me, behind."
He could tell Rachel agreed, although she refused to comment.
"Neither of us wants her to do that, right?" he said in his most persuasive tone. "There are opportunities for a good worker like her at Power Systems. You don’t want her to throw that away, do you?"
"All right. I won’t tell her."
"Thank you, Rachel."
"Nick?"
He glanced up to see Rachel fidgeting with the hem of the sheet.
"You said you want to get to know Vanessa and … I mean, I know you wouldn’t mean to, but…."
"What are you trying to say, Rachel?"
"It’s just that if you decide to take her out on a few dates and have a good time, she might … well, I mean…."
"She might what?" he prompted.
She clenched her hands into fists. "She might just fall in love."
Love? Where had that come from?
"Has she said something to you?"
"No, of course not, but … oh, Nick, it’s just that you’re a hard man to resist, you know?" She laughed tightly. "You’re young, handsome, and rich, a combination almost impossible to resist."
"So you’re saying she’ll fall in love with my money?"
"No, that’s not what I mean. It’s just that you’re the closest thing to Prince Charming this world has to offer. And certainly that she’s ever seen."
"You paint her as someone with her head in the clouds, but from what I’ve seen, she’s very down-to-earth."
"Just be careful, okay? I don’t want to see her get hurt."
Nick stood up and walked to the window. He sucked in a deep breath, drawing on the tranquility of the lavender sky streaked with pink and mauve clouds as the sun descended to the horizon.
"I don’t either, Rachel."
* * * *
On the drive home, Nick thought long and hard about what Rachel had said. The thought of Vanessa being hurt by something he did made his heart contract. He would never want to hurt her.
If they dated, would she really fall in love with him? Rachel seemed to think so, but he thought Vanessa was more sensible than that. Still, if she did, it would complicate things.
He wanted to date Vanessa, to get to know her, but she wasn’t the woman he saw in his life plans. Dad had married a woman like her, sweet and generous, but without ambition, and although his parents had been very happy together, the business had suffered. His father had always insisted to Nick that if he’d married a more aggressive woman who’d been interested in helping run the business, things would have gone better. Nick knew his parents were happy, but he’d decided early on that he wanted it all--a well-run business and a happy marriage. With an ambitious career woman as a wife, he could tackle anything life threw at him, at home or at work.
Unfortunately, Vanessa, although good at her job, clearly didn’t see herself as a career woman. She didn’t have that driving need to get ahead, the single-mindedness to put her job above all else. The bottom line was, he might want Vanessa desperately, but she wasn’t the right woman for him.
So, he should not ask her to the charity dinner this Friday night. Even though he'd love to spend more time with her. Even though dating her would give him the perfect opportunity to play her along and get her to reveal herself as Cinderella.
No, it wasn't a good idea.
* * * *
Vanessa sat at her desk the next morning, dreading Nick’s arrival. What would he say about her running off like that? Would he be angry?
She pulled a pencil from the desk drawer then slammed it shut. So what if he was? He shouldn’t have kissed her. How could she be expected to just return to work after that?
She started writing notes on the report in front of her, but the point broke off the pencil. She opened the drawer again and grabbed the plastic cat-shaped pencil sharpener. The sound of the blade cutting away the wood of the pencil grated on her nerves. She pulled it out and examined the sharp point. Testing it with her finger she decided it would be an ideal weapon to fend off a pushy boss.
Of course, she thought guiltily, it wasn’t as if she had discouraged him. Not with the scent of lilacs reminding her of their first kiss, not with the darkening need in his eyes stirring her own embers of desire. She could still remember the feel of his lips on hers, the hardening of his body, the answering reaction of her own as….
The pencil snapped in her hand. Damn.
As she pulled another out, she heard the familiar ding of the elevator. She shoved the new pencil in the sharpener, determined to be cool and composed no matter what Nick said.
The elevator doors whooshed open and a light whistling lilted out to her. Nick, his hands shoved in his pockets, strolled happily to her desk.
"Vanessa, I need you to come with me while I run some errands."
Oh, no. The last thing she wanted was to spend time with him. She wasn’t ready to cope with that right now, especially with the memory of that kiss echoing in her mind. Her body still ached from it. Was her face flushed?
"When?" she asked.
"Right now. Then we’ll grab lunch."
There must be a way out of this. She flipped open the schedule book on her desk. "But, Nick, you’ve got an appointment at ten o’clock, then another at eleven…"
"Cancel them."
"But…."
"I’ll wait." He perched on the edge of her desk to do just that.
She reached for the phone and made the necessary phone calls. When she hung up, Nick fetched her purse from the closet and handed it to her, then slid his hand to the small of her back, easing her into motion.
Vanessa grabbed her notebook, wondering what kind of errands he needed her for. He snatched it from her hand and tossed it onto the desk.
"You won’t need that. Come on."
His limousine waited for them at front of the building and it carried them to Savoury, the poshest shopping district in the city.
"What’s this all about, Nick?"
"I need to buy a dress for my date Friday night."
"Oh." Vanessa felt as though a ten-ton weight had been shifted onto her chest. She’d known all along that Nick and she could never… would never … but to have him blatantly admit it by asking her to help him pick out a dress for another woman--probably Amy--ravaged her heart. In fact, he hadn’t even asked, he’d ordered.
Why did he want her to do this? She didn’t want to choose a gown for Nick to admire on some other woman.
"Why not take the lady involved?" she queried.
"I have a feeling she might refuse. This way, I can get you to try on the dress, and I’ll know if it’s suitable."
"You think we’re the same size?" She remembered Amy’s lithe figure and long, graceful legs.
"I guarantee, you’re an exact match."
They entered a plush establishment with gold-gilt letters elegantly scrawled across the brass-trimmed doors. A saleswoman dressed in a mint-green, tailored, silk suit approached them with a smile that looked as though it might crack her face.
"Ah, Mr. Powers. So good to see you."
The politeness in her voice sounded reserved, but Vanessa supposed that was the way rich people preferred the minions who served them.
&nb
sp; "Hello, Hilda. Are you ready for us?"
"Of course, Mr. Powers. I have the models all ready."
Models? The woman led them to a comfortable room in the back where they sat on a couch and another woman served them coffee.
"If they have models," she whispered to him, "then why did you want me to come along?"
"Because the models won’t look like my date. I want to see the dress on you."
"But I don’t look anything like…." She drew in a sharp breath and practically bit her tongue.
"Vanessa, do you think this is for Amy? I know you were flustered when she came by for our lunch date the other day, and you probably jumped to certain conclusions, but … it’s not Amy I’m taking out Friday night."
"It’s not?" If not Amy, then who? How many women did this man have on a string at one time?
"No. Amy and I have been friends for a long time. I assure you, she’s only that--a friend."
"But…." Damn, how could she ask him why he kissed Amy, or thought he was kissing Amy, at the ball without giving herself away?
"In fact, we’re such good friends, she asked me to help her make her boyfriend jealous. It was all set up for the masquerade I told you about."
She nodded, unable to utter a word, hardly believing he was answering the question she hadn’t dared to ask out loud.
"Well, I was supposed to make a play for Amy in front of Kyle--that’s her boyfriend. It worked out quite well, even though Amy took sick and couldn’t come. We owe a lot to that mystery woman who showed up in her place. When the threat of losing Amy became real, Kyle finally realized how much he wants her. After that, he asked Amy to marry him. I wish I knew who Cinderella was so I could thank her."
So Rachel had been right about Amy and Nick being just friends. That meant that Nick and Vanessa … that when Nick wanted to pursue her. Her heart fluttered. Should she tell him she was Cinderella? But wouldn’t he hate knowing his fantasy woman was not from his social set? Even if Nick knew she was Cinderella, even if he decided to pursue this wild attraction between them, it could never last. The gulf between their lives could never be bridged. Still, if she told him, maybe….
Vanessa licked her lips. But what if--?
The soft music changed to something with more of a beat and models started marching past in a seductive rhythm, swirling by in glamorous gowns of every color and style imaginable.