Stiletto Secrets (27 page)

“So your mother married Henry Tremaine under the name Lillian Monroe.” Nicholas stood up straight and crossed his arms in front of his chest while glaring down at Claire.

“Is this true?” Robert asked.

Claire sat in silence, not moving, not saying a word.

“Is this true?” Robert yelled at her.

“Yes! Yes, it’s true.” Her voice was shaky, almost sounding like a scared little fucking mouse.

Nicholas reached for the folder and opened it. “So, Dad, this plan you have of getting me to marry Claire so that we can merge the Tremaine and Blake shares together,” Nicholas narrowed his eyes and gave an intimidating step toward his father, “it ain’t gonna work, Daddy dearest.”

Hunter crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Since Greta married Henry Tremaine under a false name, she has no claim to the company shares or any of the Tremaine money, which is why Claire here—or Hildegard, whatever—was so eager to get her hands on a Blake.”

Nicholas pulled out a piece of paper from the folder and handed it to his father. “According to that doctor’s report, Lillian Tremaine was diagnosed with motor neuron disease two years ago. She’s dying. And Claire here is afraid that when her mother dies, her mother’s secret will somehow get out, which will then ultimately leave her with nothing. No inheritance.”

Nicholas knew he shouldn’t have been acting so smug, but he just couldn’t help it. It felt awesome to finally prove that his suspicions about Claire Monroe were in fact spot on, and then of course to show his dad that he wasn’t as clever as he thought he was.

Robert fell back onto his chair with the grimmest expression Nicholas had ever witnessed on his father’s face. Poor bastard. He was probably seeing all those dollar signs along with the Tremaine shares he had imagined going bye-bye out the fucking window.

Suddenly everyone jerked when Adam the ass clapped his hands in applause.

“Well done. Such drama. Nicky boy, now I totally get why you insisted having me be a part of this.”

He walked up to Nicholas and patted him on the shoulder. “You clever bastard, you knew I would have been pissed if you didn’t let me see this all go down, didn’t you?”

Nicholas pulled up his shoulders, but smiled at his friend. “Of course I did. What are best friends for if not to share all the drama with?”

“Damn straight!” Adam buttoned his suit jacket and shot his cuffs. “Well then, as big as my appetite is for drama and such, I have work to do, deals to close and women to please.” Adam walked over to the door, but before he left he turned to Nicholas. “You’re going to go get her, right?”

Nicholas knew who he was referring to, and the answer was one big, giant, “Hell yes.”

Adam gave him a one finger salute. “That’s my pussy-whipped boy.” And then he was out the door.

Hunter also took it as his cue, and stepped up to Nicholas. He handed Nicholas a white envelope. “Everything you need is in there.”

Well, what else was Nicholas supposed to do than fucking hug his friend? So yeah, he hugged the big man. “Thanks, Hunter. I owe you.”

“Big time.” Hunter winked and then walked out, leaving Nicholas alone with a crying Claire and a sulking father.

“Okay then,” Nicholas straightened, “if you will both excuse me, I have a
maid
that I need to go find.” Then he feigned a thoughtful look. “Oh, that’s right, she’s not a maid after all, is she Claire? Or is that Hildegard now?”

With a red face and tear-stained eyes, Claire suddenly jerked forward, grabbed the glass and screamed as she threw the glass at Nicholas. “You son of a bitch!”

Nicholas ducked and narrowly missed the flying glass. “I believe that would be son of a bastard.”

Without looking in his father’s direction, Nicholas hurried out of the boardroom. He no longer cared what they did with the information Hunter had dug up. All he cared about was finding her. Emma was his heart, his goddamn everything. And he wouldn’t stop until he got her back.

EMMA
could not believe that she was actually going to do this again. She thought for sure that she was done with this life. But after what happened with her and Nicholas, after she found out his true motives for pursuing her, she had no choice.

To keep working as a maid at the Blake mansion was out of the question. There was just no way she would be able to work there knowing that she could walk into Nicholas at any time, or even worse, see how he brought other women home, to his bed.

No, she couldn’t do it. No way.

Emma still hadn’t told Lizzy about her very eventful—and painful—evening with Nicholas the previous night. Even though Lizzy kept on phoning, Emma kept on ignoring her calls.

Lizzy had been so full of hope, just like her, that Nicholas might just be Emma’s knight in shining armor, her Prince Charming. But it turned out that he wasn’t. It turned out that Nicholas had been the bastard he had claimed to be all along. So in actual fact, Emma only had herself to blame. Nicholas had said from the start, warned her from the get go that he was a bastard. Emma just chose to believe otherwise, convinced herself that she saw something more in him, something deeper.

What a fool she had been.

Emma got out of the cab and walked around the back of the building where she saw a familiar face standing by the door.

“Hi, Harvey.” She smiled as warmly as she could.

“Hey, Cinderella. I thought you quit?” he asked, surprised to see her.

Emma shrugged. “Things didn’t work out as I had planned.”

“They hardly ever do I’m afraid,” he replied with a half-smile. “You up on Monday nights now?”

“Mondays, Wednesdays and Saturdays now. I need the extra shows.” Which was the damn truth. Now that she didn’t have the Blake job anymore, she needed all the extra show time she could get. Lucky for her they hadn’t filled her slot yet, and a few of the other girls also quit which meant more open slots to fill.

“Have a good night, Harvey,” she said as he let her through the door.

“You too, Cinderella. Keep smiling.” He winked and then closed the door behind her.

As Emma walked down the too familiar halls in the direction of the too familiar room, all she could think about was Nicholas. She knew this place would give her a very painful sense of nostalgia, but she prayed to God that she would be strong enough to just bear through it.

On her way to the room, she passed Tracy with her clipboard and heard all about another fully booked show night for Cinderella. Emma should have been pleased. As always a fully booked night meant a lot of Benjamins for her. If she could only shake the dull ache that pulsed in her chest, she would have been able to cruise through the evening. But since her entire body, soul and mind felt like it was being crushed with a giant boulder of agony, she knew it would be one long-ass night.

Walking into Cinderella’s room, it felt like a dagger had been slashed through her heart. Everything, from the bolted chair, to the cabinet filled with stilettos, even the mask that still lay in its usual spot reminded her of him. Nicholas was everywhere. Everywhere she looked, every thought that popped into her head—everything reminded her of him and it all sliced away pieces of her soul. Darkness, despair, loneliness, and so much pain, that’s all she felt, and she knew that would be all she would feel for a very, very long time.

Emma breathed in deep and tried her hardest to steel herself against her whirlwind of numbing emotions. She went about the same routine as she did every Saturday night, which would also now become her same routine every Monday and Wednesday night. With a layer of makeup, hair tied in a sleek ponytail and a blush-pink corset with matching garter belt and white stockings, Emma transformed herself once again into Cinderella.

As she reached for one of the masks, she wondered if it was worth it still—keeping her identity a secret. Look what happened when she tried to do it the last time. Maybe if Nicholas had seen her face the first time he was there, had recognized her the first time, things might have played out differently, but it didn’t. So why the hell go through all the trouble of keeping her identity a secret any longer? This was her life now. This is what she would be doing for the rest of her life. She would be nothing more than a stripper…than Cinderella.

Deciding against it, she tossed the mask on the floor. She might as well just embrace her future, take the leap and make peace with it now.

The bells above the door chimed and Emma grabbed hold of the cabinet in front of her, closing her eyes tight. This was it. Her new future. The new Emma. The new
Cinderella.

She took a deep breath and asked, “Which show will it be tonight then?” She tried to sound as alluring as possible. “See, touch or feel?”

There was no answer.

Strange. She didn’t hear the bells chime signaling that the person had left. She moved, pushed the curtain open…and then froze.

“Nicholas,” she murmured when she saw him standing in front of her.

“Emma.” He said her name like he still could not believe that she was Cinderella. That Cinderella was her.

Her heart broke and leaped at the same time, the sight of him causing her to feel both pain and delight. Steel-blue eyes, pitch-black hair and dark eyelashes. A body that filled out that damn suit of his so perfectly. Emma found it difficult to breathe being so close to him, yet emotionally so far.

“What are you doing here, Nicholas?”

He gave a step forward. “I’m here for you.”

“No.” She stepped back. “You should be with Claire. She’s the perfect woman for you.”

Nicholas shook his head. “No. No she’s not. And what you think you saw between me and Claire, it wasn’t that at all.”

“Really? Then what was that then?”

He gave another step. “A desperate woman trying to get something she will never get.”

“And why won’t she get it?”

He continued to stalk forward. “Because it belongs to someone else.”

Emma swallowed hard. Then she stepped back some more, and noticed that he had a white pair of stilettos in his hand which hung down his side. It was the white shoes he had chosen both times he was there to see
her,
the pair Emma took when she thought she was done being Cinderella.

“Where did you get those? They were at my apartment.”

He continued to move. “I went to your apartment to find you. Lizzy was there. She’s the one that suggested I might find you here.”

“Lizzy?”

“Yeah.” He still moved toward her, and she was still giving small steps back. “She said you didn’t answer her calls. She got worried and went to your apartment looking for you.”

The second she felt her back hit the wall, she closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. His musky, masculine scent swept over her, and her entire body responded as it always did—with so much goddamn heat.

“Why did you run from me, Emma?” He was close, so close to her. She didn’t dare open her eyes.

“You hurt me.” She bit back her tears.

When she felt the slightest touch of his fingers on her hand, leisurely, slowly moving up her arm, she shivered.

“And you lied to me.” His breath danced across the skin of her neck. Still, her eyes remained closed.

Her heart was broken; she felt the hurt his words had caused her. But now, being this close to him, feeling him, her body started to overrule everything she had felt during the last twenty-four hours.

“I didn’t know who you were until I saw you at the mansion,” she explained, struggling to sound in control.

His fingers continued to move, stroking up her arm until they reached her shoulder. “And I had no idea it was you.”

Then she opened her eyes. “You knew, Nicholas. Deep down, somewhere, you knew.”

He slanted his head to the side, hungry eyes staring at her like he craved a taste of something, of her. “Maybe. Maybe deep down, I did know. Maybe that’s why I wanted you so bad.”

His gaze travelled down her body, taking her in. A soft appreciative moan escaped his lips, and Emma wanted to gasp out loud. That sound, the sound of his yearning for her, it did things to her insides. “Maybe that’s why I couldn’t get you and these goddamn shoes out of my mind.”

To Emma’s surprise, Nicholas went down on his knees. With a soft touch, his hand started at the top of her thigh, moving down so incredibly slowly, like he was memorizing the way her skin felt under his touch. He circled his fingers around the garter belt, then moved over the white stockings, down her knee until he reached her ankle. He lifted her foot while his gaze was fixed on her leg.

“You—like this—haunted me every day since I first laid eyes on you.” Gently he removed the shoe she was wearing, replacing it with the white shoe with the diamond bow.

Emma closed her eyes as she felt his touch move up her leg again, her body coiled tight with so much anticipation.

“Nicholas, what are you doing?” She whimpered. She wasn’t strong enough to fight all these feelings inside of her. She wasn’t strong enough to fight him.

He placed his hands on her other thigh, but this time it wasn’t his fingertips moving across her skin, it was his palm firmly placed on her leg, squeezing lightly. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You’re trying to seduce a woman with a broken heart.”

She felt him slip on the second shoe, and he traced his hand painfully slowly all the way back up until he reached the apex of her thighs and lightly brushed his fingertips over her panties, causing her body to stiffen as desire flared up deep within her.

She looked down and watched as he got back up, keeping his hand between her legs. Their eyes met and what she saw in those sapphire eyes she had fallen so deeply in love with was pure resolve.

“No,” he etched his gaze on her, “I’m trying to seduce the woman who holds my heart in the palm of her fucking hand, and she doesn’t even know it.”

And then his lips collided with hers—greedy, wet lips taking everything, claiming all of her. Emma moaned into his mouth, and he pushed forward, deepening the kiss, pressing his body hard against hers. Fire and flames scorched and burned and pushed her further toward the edge. She couldn’t breathe. She didn’t want to. All she wanted was him. All she wanted was to lose herself with him, feel him and be one with him.