Manhattan Millionaire’s Cinderella: HarperImpulse Contemporary Romance (11 page)

“Would never have gotten hitched?” he clipped out, rolling his shoulders. “But we did.”

She remained silent, stroking the satin with her fingertips, waiting… not sure of what. Maybe a signal from him that— she lifted her lashes and collided with his blade-thin focus.

“Now that I’ve reconciled my past,” he said, “it’s time I took care of my future.”

She held her breath and her heart tripped. Obviously, he considered her in his past, otherwise, why was he buying gifts for another woman?

“I’ll collect on what I paid for.”

“Of course.” She had no illusions.
With every cell in her body splintering, she hurled the words at him. “After the show, I’ll sign.”

“Sign what?”

“The divorce documents.”

A laser couldn’t have sliced through the tension between them, but the police siren outside did.

“Let’s have a little fun first, shall we?”

Nina shot him a look that could’ve frazzled toast to a crisp, but it didn’t deter him, not one iota. And that had her hackles rising even more.

“Since it’s costing me mega bucks—” he brushed his upper lip with his knuckle— “let’s see that little number you’re wearing in action.”

Nina smashed down a groan pummeling her chest. He hadn’t even given a hoot when she spoke of divorce; his cool indifference, a hailstorm assaulting her body. He wanted fun, did he? Well, she’d wallop him with it, but not at her expense. So, she did the only thing a savvy businesswoman would do.

“The modeling job will be an additional five hundred euros.” Her frosty words snapped off her tongue, camouflaging her frayed emotions. “If you want the red on show” –she pointed to the satin with a more modest cut on the counter— “we have a special, two for nine hundred and ninety.”

He curled his lip, and then chuckled. “The one you’re wearing will do.”

“Hot ‘n sexy enough for you?” She flashed him a withering look beneath her lashes, but it didn’t faze him.

He stroked the earring in his earlobe, his laser-sharp gaze drilling into her. “Depends who’s wearing it.”

His callous words pumped her indignation. How uncouth of him. Her temperature simmered and then flamed, melting the ice shackles around her heart. “In that case use your imagination.”

“Don’t have to.”

She shrugged. “Please yourself.”

“Oh, I intend to.”

She did a double take, but his features remained unreadable, except for the tilt at the corner of his mouth, a cross between a smirk and a grin.
“Well, then, make yourself comfortable, sir—”

Sir? Cade grumbled to himself. First she stole him blind with those padded prices, and now she shredded his ego, treating him like any jock off the street. That did not sit well with the Sloan pride. Seemed the lady might have her own agenda. Question was, where’d he fit on her list of priorities?

“—in the parlor.” She waved him to an archway adjacent to the dressing room, her words silky soft.

Seductive.

A promise of things to come?

“Yeah, thanks.” He rubbed a hand across his unshaven jaw and watched her walk away, hips swaying.

“I’ll be with you in a moment,” she said, her words whisper soft. A nerve bashed his cheek, and deleting it with his fist, he stomped to the boudoir and skidded to a halt. If he felt like a bull in the china shop earlier, he was now the fish out of water, surrounded by French provincial decor. Plush sofas curved around the mirrored walls, gold tussles dangling from the armrests and pink velvet cushions were strewn everywhere.

He glanced at the ceiling, caught his reflection tagged with building site marks, and grimaced. He should’ve changed, but he even nixed the closing of a multi-million dollar deal to catch her before she left.

A heave of a breath, and he strode across the thick carpet, plopping on the couch, the cushions dipping beneath his weight. He set his hardhat on the floor, and winced at the imprints his work boots left on the carpet. Another five hundred cleaning fee on his tab for sure.

The lights dimmed, the mirrorball began to spin and a seductive melody serenaded the room. He bolted to attention.

Show time.

Nina strutted in, veiled behind an ostrich-feather fan, her steps keeping tempo with the music, her body undulating. Flecks of light netted her hair, her skin, and glinted off the mirrors. A frown, and Cade frisked her with his gaze, catching sight of a trim ankle and
her hot-pink polished toes peeking from fur-tipped slippers. That landed him a kick in the groin, and he groaned, nearly doubling over.

She must’ve heard, but except for a subtle misstep, she continued to twirl to the rhythm, the feathers following her every move. A flick of her wrist at the right beat and the fan wavered, allowing him a glimpse of a shapely thigh.

Luring him in.

He edged forward, caught himself, and reclined, stretching his arms across the back of the sofa, seemingly unaffected. Propping one leg across his knee, he paced her with his eyes, her reflection rippling in the mirrors.

Her hair, a shimmer of gold, fell down her back. The white silk a whisper across her hips…a flash of erotic shadow beneath.

A battering ram smashed him in the center of his chest, but by the time he inflated his lungs, the fan swung. He shifted his sights. The tie criss-crossing her cleavage loosened and the silk sagged, revealing the swell of her breasts. A smoldering began inside him; he spanned his hands across the velvet, itching to fondle, eager to taste, tease, nibble, suckle…her.

Easy man
. The show’s just getting started.

The smoldering torched his passion.

An inferno of sensation.

His shirt stuck to his shoulder blades. He swiveled a finger around his collar. How many other men had seen her…been turned on by the rhythmic movements of her body draped in that sexy scrap of
niente
. That did not sit well with Cade. No way.

Before he could regroup, she bounced up to him, tapped his chin with the tip of the fan, then drew it down his chest to his belt buckle. A hot beat…and she spun around, the silk flared around her hips, leaving nothing to the imagination.

Veins in his neck thickened and his pulse raced like a locomotive about to derail. How wrong could a guy be about the woman he loved? His sex kitten was a vamp.

He was about ready to blow a fuse.

A crescendo of sound, and she closed the fan. Flinging it behind

her, she took a pose—hands crossed on slightly bended knees, a sexy pout on her mouth. Her scent drifted to him, subtle…sensual…womanly. Her nipples puckered beneath the silk, her breath a whisper of sound.

Sweat broke out across his forehead, and he clamped his hands behind his neck, his biceps bulging. She’d filled his hands and his mouth so perfectly. Blood rushed to his brain, then shot down, fueling his solid strength.

Cade crunched nails between his teeth.

The tune changed tempo, and she flashed him a smile. Stretching her arms above her head, she bopped a step back, her bosom bouncing and her hair flowing.

He tightened his abs and tasted metal on his tongue.

A note fused with sensual assault filled the air, and she turned, tossing him a sultry look over her shoulder; her sales pitch a purr of sound.
“This fur trimmed shimmer of silk” –a bat of an eyelash, an inviting tone— “fire and ice…every woman’s dream.” She twirled, the material a hush against her hips, the shadow between—a forbidden promise. “And every man’s fantasy—”

“Nightmare.” Cade erupted from the couch, startling her and surprising himself.

“What’s the matter?” She reached out, and stroked his jaw with her fingertips. “Can’t take the heat?”

A muscle bashed his temple. “This fantasy is over, sweetheart.” An inferno stoked inside him, his pulse clubbing his ribs.

“You don’t like it?” She trailed the furry hem down his forearm, her gaze a mystery.

Cade liked it just fine. Too much. He wanted to do the caveman thing, but he had too much riding on this to tempt fate again and have it backfire. His gut wrenched. This five foot two dynamo had him for breakfast, lunch and dinner a year ago. Then on their wedding night, she had disappeared without a trace, leaving him to rebuild brick by brick, heartbeat by— well, it was time he leveled the playing field.

His eyes shuttered, camouflaging
the firestorm inside him, his voice a thread of sound. “Before how many men have you paraded that sexy little number?”

“I run a reputable business.”

“Sure thing, babe.” He hooked his thumb at the snap of his jeans, his

words laced with sarcasm.

“Oh!” Her eyes glittered with fury, and she wrapped the silk closer about her body, but that only hiked the fabric further up her hip. “You have no idea—”

“I’m willing to learn, sweetheart.” He leaned into her and grazed the curve of her cheek with his knuckles.

She knocked his hand away and stepped back, her breath whooshing from her mouth.

Two paces more brought him within an inch of her, and he grinned in big bad wolf mode. “Maybe we should pursue this…uh…fantasy, after all?”

A heart-stopping moment, and Nina glimpsed iron-like flecks in his eyes. She caught her lip between her teeth, thinking she may have gone too far in provoking him. “What do you mean?”

“What happens next, doll?”

“Well, I…uh…that depends on…” She flicked a strand of hair off her shoulder, and swallowed her nervousness. Could she carry out the ruse? And remain unscathed?

“Yes?” He lowered his head, his lips a feather breadth from hers, his breath a warm caress upon her cheek.

The melody tempted, and he pulled her into a waltz. The rough fabric of his shirt stimulated her breasts, his thighs flirted with hers and his arousal courted her. They circled once around the floor, and he stopped, sliding the silk straps off her shoulders. He dipped his head and licked the hollow of her collarbone.

A hum in her throat, and she tilted her head back, allowing him further access. His hands glided down her arms, thumbs caressing
inner flesh until he caught her fingertips. He brought them to his lips, then placed them on his shoulders, and spanned her waist with his hands. A crescendo of sound, and he toured upward, untying the ribbon at the décolleté of her negligee until her breasts filled his palms.

She held her breath.

A rumble came from deep inside him.

She exhaled, arching into him, her hands sliding through his hair. He lowered his head, pulled a nipple into his mouth and sent a myriad of sensation throughout her body. Her moan of pleasure mingled with his groan of need, and she embarked on a quest of discovery across his body. While he nibbled upward, feasting on her every curve, every pulse point, her fingers stumbled onto his surging strength. He heaved in a gallon of air, his head buried in the crook of her neck, and exhaled a gale.

The clock in the shop chimed the sixth hour, seeming to echo a warning, and startled, she let him go. A tremor zinged through her.

“I can’t do this, Ca-ade.” She shook her head, sucked a mouthful of air, and let it fizz between her teeth. “I-I really can’t do this.”

“You seemed to be doing fine, a minute ago,” he panted into her neck.

“Aren’t you forgetting y-your special lady?”

“She knows all about it,” he muttered, his words muffled by her hair.

“Wha-at?”

“She’ll understand, Nina.”

“No woman in her right mind would—”

He chuckled into her nape. “If she’s your mo—”

She shoved him back, but he barely budged, only a couple of inches separating them. “You’re wacko,” she snapped, hiding her quivery fingers behind her back. “Working in the Italian sun must have blistered your brain.”

A tense beat, then he tossed back his head and laughed.

“Get away from me.” She hobbled backward, bumped into the sofa and groped behind her for the armrest to regain her balance. “I’m getting changed.”

“I’ll help you—”

She held up her hand.

“—with the zipper,” he huffed the words out.

“No, thank you.” With a toss of her head, she glided out, the silk swishing upward, giving him a glimpse of the gold thong decorating her derriere.

Cade muttered an expletive that would’ve made even his construction crew cringe. This was not going well. Every cell in his body was stimulated and his muscled length throbbed…for her. He seized his hardhat off the carpet and stomped after her, detouring to the counter.

“Okay then, finish the wrap job.” He plunked the hat on the counter and drummed his fingers on it, ignoring the rumble in his chest. He’d like her wrapped in deep purple satin sheets, pulsing beneath him— “And wrap the red in a separate box.”

Silence.

He rang the bell. “I’ve paid plenty for that scrap of nothing.”

No response.

He kept his finger on the buzzer
.

A gold slipper sailed over his head.

“I want—”

“Go to—” The second pump came flying, and he ducked in the nick of time. It crashed in the display window and knocked down a mannequin

draped in a multitude of sensual delights.

She dashed out of the dressing room, wiggling into her dress which still rode high on her hips and skidded to a stop. “What have you done?”

“
Moi
?” Face all innocence.

She pulled the dress down her thighs, but the hem snagged on her bracelet. “O-o-oh!”

For a moment, he watched her wrestle with the material, then his gaze strayed to her most vulnerable places; curves he touched, tasted, hungered for—his chest grew tight, reflecting a lower part of his anatomy. He wanted her…more of her…all of her.

“May I?” he offered.

“No!” She yanked at the crepe cotton
and when it tore away from the gold chain at her wrist, she hurried back, returning a second later with the negligee bunched in her hands. She stuffed it in the giftbox, slammed on the lid and marching fast-forward, shoved it at him. “I hope you’ll be very happy.”

“That was the idea.” He scratched his head, and his lips twitched.

“Especially since she’s already married to m—”

“
She’s married?” Nina stuttered, her emotions fried. Oh gosh, she was going to die. Pass out right in front of him. And she mustn’t. At least, not until after he left. She clutched the counter before her legs gave out and she slithered to the floor. “Have you no morals?”

“Apparently not in your opinion,” he muttered, his words a splinter of sound, eyes glinting hard.

“
Arrivederci
,” she murmured, swallowing the quiver in her voice. “I’m done.”

“I’m not.” He swept up the gift box and stomped to the exit. “I’ll pick up the red tomorrow.”

“No!”

“Actually, yes,” he bit out. “I’ll come and claim what I paid for.”

Blinking angry tears away, Nina spun around so fast she stubbed her toe on the leg of the glass-topped table in the corner. “Ow!” She dove to save the vase toppling onto the floor, missed, and knocked over the display rack. Sprawled flat on her face on the carpet with an array of sensual accessories—frilly bikinis, embroidered thongs, lacy garters, soaps, scents, lotions, creams, glosses, glitter, toys strewn about her, did nothing for her dignity.