The Cinderella Obsession (8 page)

"Amy, you know she isn’t the kind of woman I’m attracted to."

"No, she’s not the kind of woman you usually date. That’s not the same thing."

Sometimes Nick wondered where Amy got her crazy ideas. She knew him so well, yet at times like these, he wondered if she knew him at all.

"In answer to your question, I’m going to find my Cinderella."

"And how do you propose to do that?"

Nick tugged his handkerchief from his pocket and unwrapped the tiny treasure.

"With this." He held it out to her.

Amy picked up the glass slipper earring daintily between her thumb and index finger. "Well, isn’t that adorable."

"It’s my mystery woman’s."

She jiggled it so it swung back and forth, then raised an eyebrow at him. "Take my advice, Nick. A bird in the hand is better than one twice as good in the bushes."

"Amy, if you’re going to use a cliché, at least try not to butcher it."

"The point is, Nick, this secretary of yours is more your type than you realize."

"And just what is my type?" He held out his hand, wanting the earring back.

"Well, for starters, one who sparks your interest like she obviously has." Amy dropped the earring into his palm.

"Are you saying physical attraction is enough?"

"Not at all. What I’m saying is, it’s a good start. I believe that you wouldn’t feel that spark at all if there weren’t something backing it up." She tapped the knuckles of his hand and he realized he’d been stroking the earring. "There’s far more attracting you to this woman than lust."

"So how do you explain my reaction to the mystery woman at the party? I didn’t know anything about her at all."

"I believe that your soul recognizes its other half. If she’s right for you, you know it without really knowing why."

"By that theory, my soul must be planning
a menage-à-trois
."

Amy batted him with her napkin. "Nick! Don’t be crude."

"Then how do you explain my raging attraction to Cinderella?"

"That’s easy. I say your secretary and your Cinderella are the same woman."

Vanessa glanced up from the
document
on her computer screen as the elevator doors opened. Nick stepped into the reception area after a two hour lunch with Amy. She flicked her gaze back to the monitor. Maybe if they’d had a good time, Nick had forgotten about wanting to fire her.

"Vanessa, about our discussion this morning…."

Her unlikely hope dissolved with his words.

"What about it?" she asked lightly.

"I didn’t handle it very well. First, telling you not to be nervous around me is only going to make you more nervous. It’s basic human nature. Second, I…." He sighed and shoved his hands into his pockets. "Look, come on into my office and we’ll discuss it."

She felt numb as she stood up and followed. He gestured to one of the chairs at the round table and waited for her to sit down.

Maybe she should be happy about this, since it would end her dilemma. The more time they spent together, the more likely he would suspect her identity as the mystery Cinderella. The problem was, if he continued to pursue Cinderella after she’d gone and found out that Rachel had given her the invitation, Rachel might lose her job, too.

With a new baby on the way and the loss of wages because she couldn’t work during her difficult pregnancy, Rachel could not afford to be fired. Vanessa had to do what she could to keep this position.

She searched his face as she walked toward him. He didn’t look like a man about to fire someone. He looked far too relaxed. But that didn’t necessarily mean anything.

She sat down and he sat in the chair next to her.

"Nick, I … I’m sorry you’re not happy with me but I--"

"No, it’s not that, Vanessa."

"--but couldn’t we try again? I mean--"

"Vanessa."

"--I’ll work harder and--"

"Vanessa. Stop."

She gulped in a breath of air, staring at him with wide eyes, realizing she’d been nattering like a fool.

"Why don’t you let me talk for a minute?"

Her face flamed. "I’m sorry." Of course, she was only making it more difficult for him. Why did she think a big executive like him could be swayed by the ramblings of someone like her? She folded her hands demurely in her lap and stared at them, waiting for him to pronounce sentence on her job. And possibly Rachel’s, she thought sickly.

"You don’t have to work harder. You already do an excellent job."

She blinked back the well of tears pushing to the surface. Didn’t people always say something nice before ending a relationship?

"Vanessa, don’t look so upset. That was a compliment."

She glanced up at him and his warm smile surprised her. Nick didn’t seem like the type who’d fire someone with a smile.

"I’m trying to tell you I never intended to fire you. When I told you I didn’t think you should work for me, I only meant I was considering transferring you to another department."

"Oh, Nick, that’s great…." But wait. Transfer? The swell of relief that had been rising in her suddenly deflated as his words sank in.

He
wasn’t
going to fire her. But he
was
going to transfer her. Either way, she wouldn’t be working with Nick, which meant she wasn’t any better off. If she didn’t work as Nick’s secretary, she wouldn’t have any part in the investigation.

"But?" he prompted.

She focused on his perceptive gaze. "But I would rather stay here."

"Really." His smile broadened. "Why, Vanessa, I’m flattered."

"I mean, working in the executive office and all…." Good heavens, she didn’t want him to get the wrong idea.

He laughed. "I know. It looks great on your résumé. In fact, I’m glad you feel that way. The truth is, you’re an efficient secretary and I don’t want to lose you. If you just try and relax, I think we can make this work."

She sighed in relief. "Thank you, I’d like that."

"Good. Then grab the proposal for the Bronson contract and bring it into my office. We’ll go over the totals."

She hurried to her desk and grabbed the blue folder.
I’ll work on being more relaxed
, she promised herself as she returned to the table and opened the report to the summary page.
But to do that, I’ve got to forget all about the fact that if Nick figures out I crashed his party he’ll fire me, and maybe Rachel, too. And harder still, I’ll have to figure out how to ignore his powerful charisma.

Maybe if she took acting lessons.

"Vanessa…." He glanced at her, then back to the book. He seemed uneasy. "There was something else I wanted to discuss with you."

Oh, Lord, now what?

But there was a definite note of concern in his voice. She glanced up and met his intent gaze.

"Vanessa, I was wondering … In a past job … have you ever … I mean, has a boss ever…?" He waved his hands helplessly, obviously trying to ask her something awkward.

Confusion scurried through her. Did he think someone had fired her before and that was why she’d been so upset over losing a short term contract like this? "What are you trying to ask, Nick?"

"Let me go at this another way," he murmured, his voice soft with concern. "You don’t think I’d take advantage of my position as your boss, do you?"

She shook her head. "No, of course not."

"Because I would never do anything like that. I would never abuse the power of my position."

Her stomach tightened as a sudden understanding of what he thought shimmered through her. He believed her nervousness stemmed from a past case of sexual harassment. And he was doing everything he could to make her feel comfortable.

How sweet.

"Nick, I’m not worried about that. Really."

Without thinking, she had placed her hand on his sleeve but, at the feel of his muscles tensing beneath her fingers, she quickly withdrew it.

"Good." His voice sounded strained. "Then I guess we should get to work."

The warmth of her fingers lingered on Nick’s arm, fueling the powerful urge he felt to draw her into his arms. The thought of some creep taking advantage of her brought out protective instincts he never knew he had. Right now, she gazed at him with trust in her eyes … and yet, if she knew what he was feeling … how all he could think about was how soft her lips would feel on his and how sweet it would be to taste her….

He jerked his focus to the page that lay open on the table in front of her, not wanting her to see the emotions scrolling across his face.
Damn it, I don’t want to feel this way. I’ve always kept my romantic interests outside the office
. Until Vanessa showed up.

He dragged the end of his pen down the column of numbers on the right side of the page, but didn’t sharpen his focus on any of them.

What about Cinderella? Could these feelings for Vanessa be triggered by his need to find
her?
Maybe his subconscious was trying to transfer the desire for his mystery woman to someone more attainable. If that was true, now that he’d figured it out, it should be easy to ignore. After all, there could be no future with Vanessa.

"Do you want to change any of the numbers?" Vanessa asked. "If you do, I could open the spreadsheet and--"

He shook his head. "No, they look fine."

She was so willing to please. And he knew if he listened to his instincts and dragged her into his arms, and felt her body pressed the length of his, they’d both experience intense pleasure. The thought washed over him, leaving a film of disappointment.

There could be no future with Vanessa.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want to find the right woman and get married. Someday. It was just that the ‘right woman’ would be an aggressive professional like himself, someone to be his partner in business as well as in life. And she wouldn’t creep into his thoughts all the time, distracting him from his work. There was a place for romance and a place for work and they needed to stay in their own little compartments.

So did he think there could be a future with Cinderella? He didn’t know anything about her--other than the fact she was pure magic in his arms, and her kiss held a lingering spell over him. But that wasn’t enough to build a relationship on, despite what Amy thought. Why, then, was he so intent on finding her?

The answer swirled into his mind. If he found her, he might be able to figure out why she affected him this way. Because once he knew that, he could regain control of his emotions. He could rein them in and put his life back on track.

He glanced at Vanessa, watching her sift through the other papers in the file, valiantly trying not to look nervous. She caught him staring at her and dropped her pen. He picked it up and handed it to her, his fingers brushing hers lightly.

Damn! He shouldn’t have touched her. The moment he felt her warm, satin skin his emotions flared like hot lava in an active volcano. So much for believing these feelings were a transfer of what he felt for Cinderella and that he could ignore his desire for her. But it wasn’t just desire, he realized. He wanted to spend time with her--wanted to know what made her smile and what touched her heart. He’d dated a lot of woman over the years, hoping to find that special someone to share his life with, but none had sparked his interest like Vanessa had. And none had reached inside him and triggered a need so intense he couldn’t ignore it.

Except Cinderella.

Could it be that his obsession to find Cinderella was a denial of sorts? Amy had accused him of avoiding the kind of woman he really wanted. Could it be that he subconsciously chose to go after a woman who wouldn’t affect him so that he didn’t feel compelled to make a commitment? Could it be that his obsessive need to find Cinderella was another way to protect himself from falling in love? After all, a woman he couldn’t see or touch couldn’t say ‘I do’.

His
cell phone vibrated.  He
pulled it from his pocket and
glanced at the reminder of
his two-thirty meeting.

"I’m sorry, Vanessa, I’ve got to go. We’ll finish this later."

When the elevator doors closed behind him, Vanessa released the breath she’d been holding. She didn’t know how she would cope with this for two whole months. Working so close to Nick, trying to ignore the intense magnetism between them. Wishing he would reach out and touch her. But what choice did she have? Rachel’s arguments made sense. Only here could she make sure he didn’t find out who she was. And only here did she have a chance of getting her earring back.

Thinking of her earring gave her new purpose. She had to find it. She knew that technically if she took the earring, it might be considered stealing, but she’d be taking something that belonged to her and that made it okay as far as she was concerned.

She marched to his office and pushed open the door. The last time she’d seen it he’d had it at his desk. He’d pulled it out of his pocket, wrapped in a handkerchief, but maybe he’d stuffed it in one of his drawers. After all, why would he keep carrying it around? She started to rummage through his desk.

* * * *

As Nick rode down the elevator, he thought about the powerful effect Vanessa had on him. He wanted her--desperately--but not just in his bed. And that terrified him. His head told him to keep away from her, to put a distance so great between them that she couldn’t touch him in any way, but his heart told him to reach out and grab her, and never let her go.

He just couldn’t believe two separate women could affect him so profoundly. The elevator doors swooshed open and Nick strode across the lobby.

"Mr. Powers."

Nick turned toward the receptionist who’d called to him.

"Yes, Wendy?"

"I was just about to call up to your secretary. Mr. Randal from Data Crown just phoned to say that he’s been called away on an emergency and can’t meet with you this afternoon. He’ll call tomorrow to arrange another appointment."

He thanked Wendy and turned back to the elevator to return to his office. When he stepped into the reception area, Vanessa wasn’t at her desk. As he pushed open the door to his office, he heard shuffling noises and his gaze zeroed in on Vanessa leaning over his desk drawer, pushing things around inside.

He folded his arms and leaned against the door. "What are you doing?"

Vanessa jumped slightly, then slowly straightened her back and turned to face him, her cheeks flushed and her jaw clenched.

"I--I--I was looking for the earring."

The answer--so totally unexpected--startled him. He pushed himself away from the door and stepped further into the office. "Earring?" He pulled the handkerchief from his pocket and tugged out the dainty earring, dangling it in front of her. "You mean this one?"

She licked her lips and nodded sharply, her gaze transfixed on the tiny, shimmering crystal. He was struck by the fact that she looked as guilty as sin--and not the kind of alluring sin he usually pondered when he thought of her. This struck him as odd. There were any number of reasons, as his secretary, that she could be rooting through his desk, and none of them in the least suspicious. And yet there she stood, twitching nervously, acting like a thief caught in the act. That told him two things--one, that the reason she was going through his desk was not one she wanted to admit and, two, that she was inherently honest. If she wasn’t, she’d have quickly come up with a reasonable excuse.