by Selena Kitt
He glanced at her, still smiling that lazy smile. “She may premiere with Kaiser, but she’s already signed with me. For double the price.”
Oh my god. Heidi stared at him. Clearly his confession hadn’t been an accident. Why was he telling her this?
“Double?” she choked out. She knew how much Kaiser was paying Andrea for her designs—my designs.
“I want you.” Cavelli’s eyes brightened as he grabbed her, pulling her close and kissing her hard. Heidi fought an urge to pull away. “I will double anything he’s offered.”
She shook her head. “But he hasn’t…”
“He will,” he insisted, his eyes hardening as he fondled her breast, slipping another hand down to cup her pussy. She was wearing panties tonight, of course. “But you will already be mine. Yes? Yes…”
It wasn’t even a question—he was sure he could buy her. Can he? Heidi straightened herself out as he released her and stood, drinking the last of his cognac and setting the glass back down on the table.
“Stay where you are for now,” Cavelli directed with a nod. “It pleases me. I will contact you after Paris.”
She watched him, speechless, as he strode toward the door, turning to look at her with a fond smile. “Goodnight, Bella.”
“Goodnight, Mr.— ”
“Roberto,” he insisted, closing the door before he heard her reply.
“Goodnight, Roberto,” she murmured, stunned by his arrogance and assumptions. Did he really believe she would abandon Kaiser as quickly as Andrea had?
No. She wouldn’t She couldn’t. She wasn’t so easy. Was she?
Chapter Eight
“Kaiser…sir?” Heidi poked her head into his office, finding him sitting at his desk writing something on a notepad.
“What is it, Heidi?” He sighed, not looking up or turning around.
“I was just wondering…these dresses in the hallway. None of them are tagged?” She cleared her throat apologetically. The job had became familiar enough that, most of the time, she didn’t have to ask him superfluous questions anymore, but all of the dresses from the show had come tagged and there were twenty of them hanging on a rack she didn’t have any idea what to do with.
He put his pen down, leaning back in his chair and whirling around, his face spreading with a smile. “Ah, they’ve arrived.”
She blinked and shrugged. “They have?”
“That’s your Paris wardrobe.”
“My…” Heidi looked back at the rack of dresses with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Mine?”
“Do you like them?”
“Like them?” she squeaked, rushing back into the vestibule to flip through, dress after dress, all of them unique and elegant and stunning. There was day wear, evening wear, even, Heidi noted with a happy sigh, several boxes full of underwear, bras, garters and stockings, all displayed in bounteous reams of tissue paper.
“I take it that’s a yes?” he chuckled.
“Yes!”
He slipped his arms around her from behind. “I like making you happy.”
“I like feeling happy,” she agreed, turning in his arms, smiling up at him.
“Do you know what would make me happy?”
She grinned and began to slide through the circle of his arms, heading down to her knees.
“Besides that.” He laughed, grabbing her by her elbows and pulling her up. “Please tell me you found out what Cavelli’s up to.”
“I did.” She moved out of his arms, frowning, turning back to the dresses as if she was interested, but suddenly they had lost all of their appeal.
“And?”
She sighed. “You’re not going to like it.”
“I imagine not.” He chuckled. “So?”
“He’s stealing Andrea Paxton.” She just blurted it out, just like that.
“Stealing—what?” Kaiser actually laughed, but when she turned to face him, he saw she wasn’t joking.
“She’s signing with Cavelli after the Paris show. So he says.” Heidi shrugged helplessly, seeing his anger building. It started in his neck, moving redly up his face.
“She wouldn’t dare.”
Heidi swallowed hard. “He said he doubled your price.”
“Jesus.” He suddenly paled, now as white as he had been red a moment ago.
“I’m sorry,” she apologized, biting her lip.
Kaiser turned and walked back toward his office, pausing in the doorway and looking back at her. “And just what did you have to do to get this out of him?”
Oh no. She couldn’t tell him. Had she really believed he wouldn’t ask? “Well…” She wrung her hands nervously, hiding them behind her back. “I had to loosen him up a little.”
“So the cognac did the trick?” He winked, their little secret.
She gave him a weak smile. “Well…that, too.”
“I see…” He pressed his lips into a thin line. “So you did put your noteworthy blowjob talents to good use then?”
Heidi lowered her head and whispered, “I had to.” Was that true? She wasn’t sure. Kaiser had made it very clear what he wanted, though, hadn’t he?
He lifted her chin, stepping close and shaking his head. “I told you…whatever it takes. You did just what I asked.” He frowned. “I just…I wish I hadn’t asked you to.”
“You do?” she asked, puzzled. “But…I don’t understand.”
“I don’t either.” He gave a short laugh, turning back to his office. “Regardless, you did an excellent job. A most excellent job.”
She watched from his doorway as he picked up the phone and pushed the buttons. “Andrea, Kaiser. I need to talk to you before the pre-show. Call me.”
Heidi wondered just what he was planning. Would he offer Andrea triple the price? The thought left a bad taste in her mouth, even though part of her was pleased he would be willing to pay more than Cavelli for her designs. But they were hers, not Andrea’s, and Kaiser had no idea.
“Kaiser…” She cleared her throat and he glanced back at her, questioning. “Cavelli was interested in my sketches.”
“Is that so?” He raised an eyebrow, turning in his chair.
“He said so…” Heidi shrugged, flushing. How could she possibly tell him? But even Cavelli had noticed the similarities between her designs and “Andrea’s.” If Kaiser saw her sketches…
“Did he make you an offer?” he asked, folding his arms over his chest. “And would you take him up on it, I wonder?” he mused, almost to himself, his eyes narrowing.
“I brought my sketches…” Heidi hadn’t really been listening—instead she’d quickly retrieved her sketch book from under her desk, holding it out to him with trembling hands. “I just thought…he seemed interested…so maybe you—”
The look on Kaiser’s face both shocked and frightened her. He stood, his voice booming. “Get into my office and bend over my desk!”
Heidi dropped the book to the floor, scurrying to comply with his demand.
“Pull up your skirt!” He stood behind her, impatient, waiting.
She glanced over her shoulder. “But…why? What did I—”
The incredulous look on his face got her moving and she pulled her skirt up high, putting her hands on the blotter, fingers spread, and didn’t have to wait an instant before his hand came down on her behind, making her yelp in pain and surprise. It was sudden and furious, and it reminded her of that very first spanking in the trailer bathroom. Kaiser worked her over until tears came to her eyes and her bottom sang with pain.
Her tears fell on the blotter, her mascara making a mess of his appointments, and it didn’t matter, he spanked her even harder, driving her forward into the desk. Her hand slipped once and the Bill Blass pencil holder went flying, spilling Cross pens all over the floor, and still he didn’t stop.
“Please!” she begged, sobbing, truly afraid of him for the first time. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please just tell me what I did! I won’t ever do it again, I promise!’
“The gall!
” he growled, smacking her again—WHACK! Her bottom was almost numb with pain now and for that, she was glad. “Insolent!” Again—WHACK! “Presumptuous little brat!”
He stopped, his breath coming hard and fast, and there was just that and the sound of Heidi’s sobs.
“I’m sorry!” she whispered against the blotter, her chest heaving, her breath catching. They both heard the elevator “ding” and looked up at the open door at the same time. Heidi saw him through prisms as he stepped off the elevator, but both she and Kaiser were frozen in place. Kaiser had forgotten to tell her to close the door, so of course the locking button he reflexively reached for did them no good at all.
“Hey there you are!” Lenny said, taking a step away from Heidi’s clearly empty desk toward Kaiser’s office. “I thought you might—”
He stopped, seeing her now, really seeing her, his eyes wide, his mouth working but no sound coming out.
“Go away, Lenny,” she whispered hoarsely.
“I’m afraid Heidi is indisposed,” Kaiser said coolly, stepping around the desk and closing the door in Lenny’s shocked face. This time the lock did work.
“Was that the young gentleman interested in your blowjob talents?”
She nodded miserably, drawing a shuddering breath.
Kaiser sat down in the chair behind her with a deep sigh. “Heidi, I’m sorry.”
His apology made her sob harder.
“I just…I want you to trust me. And this…” He pulled her skirt down, putting his arms around her waist and resting his cheek against her aching bottom. “Is not the way to get you to do that, is it?”
He stood, unlocking the door and walking to the window.
“Go, Heidi. Go find your friend and see if you can make some sort of explanation.”
She stood on wobbly legs, wiping at her tear-stained face with her palms. “Kaiser, please…don’t send me away…”
“Please.” He waved her out, looking disgusted. She had never heard him use the word please before. Ever. “Go.”
Reluctantly, she went.
* * * *
“Lenny, I’m at work!” she hissed into her cell, looking around to make sure Kaiser wasn’t anywhere near. The models were all over back here in various states of undress and she had to weave her way through them like walking through a forest of tall flesh-trees.
“Yeah, you looked like you were working hard when you were leaning over Kaiser’s desk with your skirt up—”
“You don’t understand...” She hadn’t found him after leaving Kaiser’s office and his phone had just gone to voicemail.
“I understand perfectly,” he snapped. “Forget the weird sex stuff. I’m more worried about you selling your soul to the devil. Heidi, are you really going to let some scheming cow like Andrea Paxton steal your dreams?”
She opened the dressing room door and stepped into the hallway, gulping the fresher, less cloying air. “Maybe my dreams have changed.”
“Heidi, I swear, if you don’t do it, I will.”
She froze, eyes wide, and actually pulled the phone away to stare at it for a moment, as if Lenny could see the shocked look on her face. She put the phone back to her ear and hissed, “You wouldn’t dare!”
“Do you really think it was you I was coming to see today?”
“Lenny!” she gasped, covering her eyes with her hand. It was bad enough he’d walked into what he had—but what would have happened if he’d actually decided to spout off to Kaiser?
“So tell him,” he urged, his voice more firm that she’d ever heard it. Was he serious? He couldn’t be serious.
“Okay, okay!” she relented, praying he wouldn’t call her on her bluff. “I will.”
“You promise?”
She sighed, looking up at the sound of heels on the tile and saw Andrea coming down the hall. “I’ve got to go!”
Heidi ended the call, slipping her cell into her jacket pocket and standing up tall—as tall as she could manage—as Andrea approached.
“Where are my dresses?” the blonde inquired, frowning down at her.
“Your dresses?” Heidi scoffed.
Andrea rolled her eyes. “If you’re going to accuse me of something, either do it or shut up.”
Heidi turned and opened the dressing room door and Andrea followed, gasping when she saw the rack of her dresses lined up against the wall. The models would run her line last—the show finale—so they were untouched so far.
“God, they’re amazing…” Andrea fingered the material, her eyes shining.
“I know.” Heidi sighed.
The stage manager stuck her head in and called, “Fifteen minutes!”
“How do I look?” Andrea asked, moving left and right, fussing with her blonde curls, trying to see herself in one of the mirrors past a tall, brunette model. “I saw Cavelli sitting down in front.”
“Kaiser’s there, too,” Heidi reminded her hotly. “You know, the man whose company is showcasing your designs.”
Andrea shrugged, giving her cheeks a pinch. “Gotta go where the money is.”
“What does that mean?”
The blonde whirled and shook a finger at her. “You know why you’ll never make it in this business?”
Heidi shook her head, swallowing hard.
“God, you are so naïve!” Andrea threw up her hands, heading for the door. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a career to go make.”
The door closed behind her and Heidi stood next to the rack of dresses that should have been hers, her stomach churning, her eyes filling with tears.
“I can’t watch this,” Heidi murmured, pushing past one of the models who’d stepped into her path.
“What did you say?” The model was a tall redhead, her hair in tight auburn cornrows, her eyes painted up like butterfly wings.
“Nothing,” Heidi muttered, pushing into the hallway and standing there for a moment, undecided. Then, instead of heading toward the stage, she turned the other way and hurried toward the exit.
* * * *
Kaiser’s call came in on her cell when she got back to the office. She’d expected it earlier, but he probably had assumed she was backstage, working to make everything run smoothly.
“Heidi, where are you?” The noise was deafening. She could barely hear him.
“At the office,” she replied, lying smoothly. “I had to fax Jean Patou the schedule in Paris. They need it by tomorrow morning. I thought that was more important…”
“Thank you,” he said, and she heard the gratitude in his voice. “The pre-show went without a hitch, Heidi. Thank you so much for all your hard work.”
“You’re welcome.”
“I can barely hear you!” He was now really having to yell to be heard. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?”
He hung up without saying anything more and Heidi stood looking at the dozen red roses sitting on her desk, along with a similar thank you note, probably meant for her to see in the morning. Her sketchbook was there, too, open in the middle of her desk, and there as another note:
These are beyond good. Please have patience. I hope I’ve earned your trust.
—K
The fact was, she did trust him, more than he realized, more than he could ever know. Her entire life, her heart, battered and broken and still beating, rested in the man’s hands. She was his, bent on her knees, humbled and surrendered, an open offering. He didn’t know it, maybe he never would, but in Heidi he had found a woman that would follow him, wholly and without hesitation, wherever he decided to go, no matter what sacrifices she had to make.
Chapter Nine
“Adjoining rooms?” Heidi murmured, looking up at Kaiser hopefully as the porter took their bags and said something in French she assumed meant “Follow me,” as he headed around the corner. He bypassed the elevators the other patrons were waiting for, sliding his key card into a different slot down the hallway. Heidi noticed people staring at them, whispering, probably wondering who in the heck the mousy girl goin
g up in a private elevator to the Belle Etoile Suite at Le Meurice with Warren Kaiser really was.
Kaiser smiled indulgently as he waved her in. “It’s an entire floor. Two, actually. I think we’ll have plenty of room.”
“Would you be needing the car this evening, sir?” The porter spoke perfect English to Kaiser, with just a hint of his Parisian accent.
“We’ll be dining in.” Kaiser slid his hand across the small of Heidi’s back, rubbing, and she shivered, wondering at his real meaning. She was tired—an eight hour flight, even in first-class, was exhausting, and while the Christian Dior travel-suit she was wearing was gorgeous and much more comfortable than it looked, she still wanted out of it. And even in spite of that, she couldn’t resist the press of his hand, whatever his insistence might be.
The door opened and Heidi blinked in amazement, gaping. She couldn’t help it. Being aware of the vast expanse of Kaiser’s money in New York—the clothes he purchased her, the lunches they took, the amenities he could afford—was entirely different than experiencing his wealth somewhere like Paris. Here, lavish wasn’t just impressive, it was stupefying. She stood there with stars in her eyes, only moving forward propelled by the firm pressure of Kaiser’s hand on her back.
Then she found her feet, flying from room to room to room…to room! Bedrooms, living room, sitting room, the bathroom was beyond magical—a gallery of black and white Italian marble with an enormous round tub as its centerpiece. If she hadn’t seen the terrace, she might have peeled her clothes off right there, but Paris called her name and out she went, throwing the doors wide and breathing in the fresh air.
They were in the center of everything—the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, even the Eiffel Tower made a distinctive appearance like a sculpture of steel lace in the distance. It was a dream. She had to be dreaming. She had hit her silly head out on the beach tripping over Kaiser’s outstretched feet and was just lost in her own personal version of the perfect fantasy, that’s all. That had to be it.
“It’s a bit ostentatious for me. I usually stay in a little chalet on the Seine,” Kaiser murmured, slipping his arms around her waist from behind, his lips moving along her hairline. “But I thought you might like to be in the center of all the action.”