The Cinderella Obsession (15 page)

"All right." She tucked her hand in his and watched him, considering. What she’d really like to know was if he could find some way to fit her into his life--but she already knew the answer to that. She knew the type of woman he wanted, but what role would that perfect mate have in Nick’s life? Probably akin to business partner. She couldn’t ask that, so she followed another track.

"I’ve always wondered what someone like you looks forward to."

"Someone like me?"

"Sure. You’re a successful business man, president of your own company. What does a man like you dream about? What do you see yourself doing five years from now?"

He stared at her so intently she started to fidget, uncomfortable under that close scrutiny.

"Funny. I’ve been thinking a lot about that recently. I hope I’ll be teaching my son or daughter to play baseball, becoming a scout leader, joining the PTA."

"Really?"

The wistful look in his eyes astonished her. And the way he gazed at her, with subtle speculation dancing across his features, unnerved her.

"Yes, really. What’s with the amazed expression? I’m human you know. I want kids just like anyone else."

"I guess you would want an heir."

"Heir? You make me sound like a stallion who needs to carry on the blood line. I want children because I’ve always dreamed of having a happy family just like the one I grew up in. I want children to teach and to learn from and … believe it or not … I want to find a special woman to share my life with. Someone to share life’s experiences. Someone to talk over my problems with, to listen to when she has problems--to grow old with."

"I’m sorry, I hadn’t realized. I sort of assumed you’d marry an ambitious career-oriented woman and the two of you would spend your time building the business. I wasn’t sure how you’d find the time to fit children into your life."

Nick stared at Vanessa intently without really seeing her and she thought she saw doubt in his eyes, then they seemed to shift focus onto her, as though seeing her in a new light. He reached out and touched her cheek, lightly, like a gentle breeze on a
summer
’s day. "I’ve always been so busy building the company, hoping that the rest of my life will sort of fall into place if I set things in motion, that I’ve never really taken the time to think it through. But you’re right. A career woman wouldn’t have the time for children that my mother had for me. In fact, with both of us climbing toward professional success, we might never find what’s really important."

Hope flared within Vanessa. "And what’s that?"

"Happiness. And love."

Her heart pounded in her chest and she felt a little giddy. She never expected a revelation like that from Nick. Did she have a chance with him after all? He continued to stare at her, as though gauging her reaction, awaiting a response. What could she say? She didn’t really know how he felt about her. He was attracted to her, and heaven knew she felt the same about him, but … they were talking generalities here.

She rubbed her palms along her thighs, glancing around the room, trying to ignore the effect of his attentive gaze. Firelight shimmered on the blue glass of the wine bottle, setting it aglow with rich highlights. She leaned forward and picked it up. "I … uh … would you like some more wine?"

The force of his gaze eased and he smiled. "Yes, all right." He held his glass out to her and she filled it.

They sat in comfortable silence for a while, the fire blazing brightly, the crackling flames warming her skin. Vanessa sipped her wine, feeling the warm sensation swirling within her. A quiet elation flowed through her as she realized she and Nick might just be able to build a relationship together.

She reached forward to place her glass on the coffee table and spied a chess set on a side table. Slumping back into the cushions of the couch, she sighed.

"Do you want to play chess?" she asked.

"No way. I’m feeling far too mellow for that. And anyway, I have a feeling I’d lose." His fingers stroked the back of her hand.

"You don’t like to lose, do you?"

Nick sat watching her, a twinkle in his eyes. "No, and I rarely do."

He traced the line of metallic thread swirling across her chest with his index finger. "I like your sweater. The design is quite unique."

She flushed at his compliment. "It’s my own."

He grinned at her, his eyes crinkling around the edges. "I didn’t think you’d stolen it."

She laughed. "No, I mean I designed and knit it myself."

"Really? You know I’ve always wanted a hand-knit sweater," he hinted.

"You have?" she asked doubtfully. "I’d figure you for an Yves Saint Laurent original, not some ratty home-made sweater."

"That shows how little you know me. A hand-made gift would mean a lot to me. It’s easy to go out and buy an expensive present. When you make it yourself, it means you’ve given a bit of your soul."

She blinked at him, wondering if she had ever been more wrong about a man. He wasn’t the designer snob she’d assumed. She’d really done him an injustice in some of her assumptions. And if that assumption had been wrong….

"And as for hand-made sweaters being ratty, maybe I’d better take a closer look."

His mischievous grin made her smile as he sat forward, studying her chest with a thoroughness that made her flush anew. He ran his hand from her shoulder to her hip, sending a thrill of awareness through her. A second later, he flicked the tiny silver beads that outlined a patch of angora over her left breast. She’d found two small skeins of the expensive yarn at a garage sale and worked it into the intarsia pattern sparingly. When he cupped her breast and murmured, "Mmm. Soft," she wasn’t sure if he referred to the wool or her. And she didn’t care.

"Talking about games, I know how we can play without either of us losing." He stroked his finger over her mouth, tugging on the lower lip, then dipping his fingertip inside. Automatically, she flicked it with her tongue, then puckered her lips around him and drew his finger inside, stroking with her tongue.

"Vanessa."

Her name came out slippery sweet and she felt a thrill quiver through her. She released his finger and turned toward him, hooking her arms over his shoulders and around his neck and pressing her body against his. Their lips met with a hot, fiery passion, tongues tangling like frantic lovers separated too long. Which was exactly how Vanessa felt.

Hot.

And frantic.

For Nick.

He scooped up her legs to lay them across his lap. His hands slid down her back, pulling her closer. She needed to feel more of him, so she tugged him gently, dragging him with her as she eased herself down on the couch, their mouths never parting. He pressed himself the length of her body, his breathing coarse and rapid. His ribs pressed against her breasts, a welcome weight to her aroused flesh.

This passion might be destined to end, but right now she wanted him more than she’d ever wanted any man before. A desperate need clutched her body, determined to squeeze away every last inhibition until the consuming urgency was met. She arched up to press her pelvis into the cradle of his. She could feel his hard, swollen flesh against her stomach.

More. She wanted more.

She smoothed her hand down his chest, along his taut stomach, and over his arousal.

"Vanessa, my God."

She flicked her tongue to lick the hollow at the base of his neck. His pulse, already racing, leapt a beat or two. She spiked her fingers through his hair, her skin quivering as she felt the softness of his locks caress the sensitive flesh between her fingers. Sliding her hand down his chest, she nibbled at the top button of his flannel shirt, releasing it then sliding the tip of her tongue down his chest to the next button. By the time she nibbled this one open, he pulled back and ripped open the shirt, his eyes dark and glittering. She giggled and lapped sideways until she reached his small, hard nipple then began to suckle. If she’d had any doubts, the catch in his sharply in-drawn breath told her he liked her attention. She dragged her tongue across his heated skin to his other nipple, brushing her cheek against the springy thatch of hair on the way.

"My turn," Nick murmured as he tugged off her sweater and pressed her down again, fiddling with the tiny buttons on her silky camisole.

With pure feminine satisfaction, she watched his eyes grow hungry as he drew aside the fabric. Her breasts, barely covered in blue lace, swelled against the covering. He released the front catch and the bra burst open. She gasped as his mouth captured first one swollen nipple in his mouth, then the other. He licked, suckled, and squeezed the sensitive flesh within his mouth, forcing her breath to come in raspy puffs.

"Oh, Nick."

She arched her lower body upward, demanding attention. Unceasing in his devoted attention to her breasts, he released her belt and unzipped her jeans, slipping his hand inside. The feel of his strong fingers against her soft flesh made her melt with honeyed passion.

"Oh," she gasped, pressing herself against his hand in blatant need. She squirmed out of her jeans then started to fumble with his fastenings.

"Here, sweetheart. Let me," he murmured, sliding her hands across his chest so they were out of the way.

She took the hint and stroked his nipples, then traced the curly locks of his chest hair down, and when his beautiful arousal sprang free from his jeans, she caught it with both hands and wrapped her fingers around it, squeezing gently.

"If you keep doing that, darling, this will be over too soon, and I want us both to enjoy it."

He dipped his finger in the wine glass she’d abandoned on the coffee table and smeared the burgundy liquid across the white skin of her breasts, then leaned over and lapped it up with his tongue. She reached out and dipped two fingers into the glass, then dribbled it on her nipples and grinned.

"I see you know what you like." He suckled her nipples, making her absolutely wild with wanting.

"Nick." She moaned, a yearning sound from deep inside.

"Yes, sweetheart. What do you want?"

His fingers stroked her intimately. He knew what she wanted, and how much. Why did he keep her waiting?

"Nick, please. I need you. Now."

"Not yet, my love. First we need more wine."

She felt cool, damp droplets splash onto her belly, followed by the warmth of his tongue. She watched in wicked anticipation as his drenched finger dipped into her navel, then stroked downward, leaving a ruby trail. When his tongue descended and followed the path, her eyelids fluttered closed. She’d never felt so comfortable with a man that she’d allow this. With Nick … with Nick everything felt right. She felt safe and cherished and … right. As his tongue penetrated the silky folds of her flesh, conscious thought fled. His tongue flicked and cajoled and she felt herself swept away on a torrential wave of passion. Her breathing, deep and labored, mirrored the rhythm of her mounting urgency.

"Let it happen, sweetheart. Let go."

At his words, she released the thread of control that linked her to reality and, on a cry of ecstasy, she felt the world spiral away as she reached her first sexual climax ever.

She lay gasping for breath, eyes closed, and felt Nick slide up beside her. She knew he watched her. She opened her eyes and reached for him, pulling him close to her body, clinging to him, overwhelmed with feelings of elation and wonder that he could bring her such joy. She pulled him tight to her body and felt his arms slide around her, warm and tender. Pressing her cheek to his chest, she wished she could pull him tighter still, could dissolve into his body and become one with him.

"What is it, sweetheart? Are you okay?" Concern etched his words and she realized her behavior was not what he would expect.

She nodded. "I’ve never … I mean, no one’s ever…." Suddenly, she felt embarrassed. Why had she admitted that to him? Nick, a wealthy bachelor who could take his pick of beautiful women to bed, would probably find her naiveté ridiculous.

The thought was swept away as soon as he pulled back and stared at her, his eyes tender and loving. "You’ve never climaxed before?"

She shook her head timidly, wondering how she could feel so shy at a time like this.

"My God, the men you’ve been with must have been fools. How could anyone take pleasure from you and not want to give so much more in return? What man wouldn’t want to watch you in that moment of release, joy folding your features into blissful abandon?" He stroked his hand across her cheek, then kissed her lightly on the lips at first, then with mounting passion. "Are you ready for more?"

She dragged her fingertips along his stomach, then toyed with his navel.

"Absolutely. Do you think we’ll be twice lucky?"

"Luck had nothing to do with it."

"Are you sure?" she teased.

He laughed, a very smug male grin on his face. "Honey, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet."

With that he plunged inside her and started thrusting with a compelling determination. She wrapped her legs around him and matched him stroke for stroke. Almost immediately, she felt an impossible longing fill her, demanding to be met, the need overwhelming in its intensity.

"Nick," she cried, lost in a driving desire. She felt like a locomotive gone amok.