A Winter's Seduction (A Winter's Tale Series Book 5)

by Kristi Tailor

  “Patricia Foster,” he mused. “I have no recollection of her, but if you see purpose in her being here . . . I will honor your request.”

  “Thank you, sir,” Charlotte beamed. “She is an asset to the company. You will not be disappointed with her work ethic.”

  Nodding his head at her, Fissicle rose from the large black leather chair and without another word headed for the door, his posse of well- dressed men following closely behind him.

  Chapter Ten

  Charlotte stood in the lobby of Plotus Cosmetics for what felt like an eternity as she waited for Nicholas to finish his meeting with a potential investor. The floor’s secretary had come and gone several times since she’d arrived, each time making apologies for the long wait. It had been Charlotte’s intention to surprise Nicholas, but after arriving nearly an hour and a half earlier she was beginning to question her sudden spontaneity. What did I expect? she thought. Why wouldn’t the Vice President of a multi-billion- dollar corporation be busy in the middle of the day? Shaking her head at her improvidence, Charlotte glanced around the large open space. Though the floor was fairly quiet with hardly any visitors, she could not stop the overwhelming sensation of self- doubt that spread through her being. Compared to her surroundings, she appeared ordinary . . . average and without the superficial fancies that money could buy.

  The lobby was truly grand with its Italian marble walls and Empire White & Brass porcelain floors. Colorful abstract paintings were strategically hung along the tall, long walls, successfully creating an atmosphere of sophistication. Intimate seating surrounded a large black forest wood communal table on either side, leaving just enough space for potted orchids in tall glass vases. The entire ambiance of the space was aesthetically pleasing to the eye− perfection, without even the slightest flaw to the setting. Unblemished. Charlotte swallowed deeply, and pressing down the innate urge to run for the elevator, she reserved her resolve. She made the trip to Staten Island with a purpose in mind and would not allow foolish insecurities to deter her. Anyway, why should she concern herself with the afflicting notions of feeling inferior when the man who would inevitably come to own the very building in which she stood, had loved her emphatically? The very thought of it was paradoxical.

  “Excuse me, Ms. Elliot,” came a mousey voice from behind her. “Mr. Elliot will see you now.”

  Charlotte turned to face the other female, and with a quick sweep of her eyes, made a quick study of her physical appearance. She was a petite woman with large green eyes and dark brown skin, who looked to be no more than thirty. She was stunning, flawless just like the setting that surrounded them. She belongs here. The thought came and went away quickly, but the taste it left behind was a bitter one. Fighting back the frown that strived to tackle her delicate features, Charlotte forced herself to smile. “Thank you.”

  Returning Charlotte’s smile, the shorter woman said, “Just this way,” and then turning on her stiletto heels headed in the direction of a tall glass door which she held open, graciously standing aside to allow the other woman entry. Walking a steady pace, she sashayed down the long, wide hallway leading to Nicholas’ suite.

  “Are you sure he’s free?” Charlotte asked. “I haven’t seen anyone leave from this direction since I’ve arrived.”

  “His meeting was over Skype,” the exotic woman acknowledged with a batting of long dark lashes. Knocking lightly on the stained walnut oak door, she waited for approval from Nicholas to enter. It was only then that she softly pressed down the French styled brass lever and moved aside to allow Charlotte the space to walk past her.

  “Thank you, Mia,” Nicholas said from behind his desk, his crystal eyes heavy on Charlotte. His steel gaze traveled down the length of her toned frame, openly admiring her shape in the canary yellow form fitting backless halter neck dress. “Cancel my afternoon meeting, and hold my calls,” he told her.

  “Yes, sir,” Mia answered, and then offering both Charlotte and Nicholas a warm smile, she closed the door and quickly made her way back to the lobby.

  “You’re a long way from Manhattan,” he said, meeting her gaze for the first- time since she had entered his office. “To what do I owe this surprise?”

  Charlotte buckled under the intensity of his gaze. Just one look from him and she was tightly squeezing her thighs together to stop the tingling sensation from overtaking her. Licking her lips, she asked, “Are you not happy to see me?”

  Nicholas’ silvers moved to her mouth . . . to the trail her tongue had just taken. “Thrilled,” he answered. “Just curious.”

  Breaking eye contact, Charlotte glanced around the large room. “Nice office,” she acknowledged. “Very . . . modern.”

  “It’s not my taste, but I’ll be sure to have Mia pass along your compliments to my father’s Interior Design team.”

  “Mia,” Charlotte echoed the other woman’s name. “Your receptionist, I gather?”

  There was something behind her tone that gave Nicholas reason to pause. “Yes,” he answered after a moments silence, his silvers regarding her intently. “Do you not like her?”

  Shrugging nonchalantly, Charlotte asked, “Would it be fair for me to make an assessment of the woman in the few seconds that we were acquainted?”

  “I wouldn’t say so.”

  “. . . but, if I’m being honest, I do find it odd that you never mentioned her before.”

  Nicholas frowned at his wife. “Mention her for what?” he asked, clearly confused at how he had wronged her. Charlotte gave him a look that said it all. She was jealous. A small smile played at his full lips, effectively erasing the tension that had just been there. “I am not concerned about Mia, or any other woman for that matter,” he declared. It was a confession made under the scrutiny of Charlotte’s penetrative gaze.

  “She’s very attractive.”

  “I haven’t noticed.”

  “Haven’t you?”

  “No,” he answered− sincerely.

  Taking a step toward him, Charlotte breathed, “Oh.” She hadn’t gone there to interrogate him, but just when she thought that she had control over her insecurities, they managed to prove the very opposite, and with so little effort. Taking a deep breath, Charlotte closed her eyes to the thoughts that were threatening her very sanity.

  Nicholas stood then. Quickly rounding his desk, he made his way to her and without delay, wrapped her smaller body in the comfort of his larger one. Kissing the top of her head, once, twice, Nicholas rested his chin on the black silk for several seconds before slowly loosening his hold on her. “Dimple. Look at me,” he pleaded, framing her face with his large hands.

  Charlotte did as she was told. Opening her eyes, she met the intensity of his penetrating stare. Molten liquid looked back at her, regarded her with love and understanding. Unable to stop herself, Charlotte raised her hands to his rugged jawline, the tips of her fingers gently caressing the ash brown stubble found there. A small grin warmed her mouth, softening her attractive features. “Do you know how beautiful you are?” she asked him. “You are literally the most beautiful man I have ever seen.”

  Nicholas laughed at her, the sound light− boyish. “I’m alright.”

  “Alright?” she repeated, her laughter mirroring his. “Don’t put on the air of humility for my benefit. I know very well how deeply your arrogance runs.”

  Raising an amused brow, Nicholas shook his head denying the charge. “I think you have me confused with someone else.”

  Charlotte perched her lips, and looking up at him with dancing amusement she asked, “Oh, do you now?”

  Tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, he breathed her name− it was the sweetest caress of sounds against his tongue. “Dimple,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “Do you have any idea how much I love you?”

  Charlotte looked at Nicholas sideways, her dark brown eyes piercing. Slowly licking her lower lip, she bit down gently. The act was more than he could stand. Ignoring all remnants of self- control, Nicho
las pulled her into him, tightly wrapping his strong arms around her small waist. His mouth took possession of hers, parting her lips with skilled tenderness, he kissed her passionately− deeply.

  Nicholas’ hands traveled up Charlotte’s spine, causing the soft fabric of her dress to rise to her hips. A soft moan escaped past Charlotte’s lips only to be swallowed by Nicholas’ greedy mouth. Hungrily, his tongue tasted hers . . . teasing, caressing, provoking. Unhurriedly, he released his hold on her, ending their kiss with a gentle bite to her lower lip. Resting his forehead against hers, Nicholas laughed softly. “What am I going to do with you?”

  “Hm?” Charlotte groaned, the sound needy to her own ears. One kiss was not enough, she wanted more− needed more. Her eyes flashed with agitation. “I hate when you do that,” she said heaving a sigh of frustration.

  Nicholas gazed down at her for a long moment, and then giving her an amused smile, asked, “What did I do?”

  “You know what you did . . . you do it all the time. Give me a taste and then pull away, it’s frustrating.”

  Nicholas shrugged nonchalantly, unbothered by her accusation. “There’s only so much we can do in my office.” Raising a curious eyebrow, he asked suddenly, “What brought you here?”

  “Fissicle.”

  “Fissicle,” he echoed the man’s name. “What about him?”

  “He came to the office this afternoon for an unscheduled meeting,” she began, her browns staring into his silvers. “And in this meeting, he reinstated me as editor and tore into Dean for demoting me . . .”

  “Oh, really?” Nicholas asked, straight faced, his expression relaxed and unchanging. “That’s good.”

  “So?”

  “So?” he frowned.

  “Did you reach out to Fissicle on my behalf? Did you make him reinstate me?” she asked, searching his face for the truth.

  Nicholas’ mouth pressed into a hard line; his dazzling eyes darkened under the weight of her gaze. “Look, Dimple, I don’t want to argue,” he sighed.

  “Answer me, honestly. No lies. That’s what we promised one another, right? No lies. So, tell me the truth . . . did you coerce Fissicle to have a meeting on my behalf?”

  “Yes,” he answered after several heartbeats.

  Nodding her head at his response, Charlotte stood on her tiptoes and kissed the tip of his nose. “Thank you,” she murmured.

  His hard features relaxed, once again giving him that boyish charm. “You’re not mad?”

  “No,” she shook her head emphatically. “The complete opposite, actually. The level of disrespect that I had to deal with was honestly becoming too much to tolerate. I wanted to thank you.”

  “You came all the way to Staten Island, to thank me?” he mused. “You could have called, or waited until I got back to the city tonight to−”

  “I wanted to show my appreciation,” she said, glancing up at him coyly. “In the most unexpected way . . . and in the least expected of places.”

  Nicholas stared down at her with a look of confusion. Silently, he meditated over her words, putting together puzzle pieces until the riddle made sense. And then, as if a light bulb had suddenly illuminated the perplexity of her intentions, Nicholas grinned boyishly. A sexy smile teasing his sensual mouth. “You came here to seduce me?”

  Charlotte blushed. “I came here to thank you.”

  “Mhm,” he muttered, his steel eyes flashing with amusement. “And exactly how do you intend to show your appreciation?” Brazenly, possessively, his molten mercury gaze roamed over her striking features− openly admiring her long black lashes, almond eyes and lush mouth. She was beyond beautiful to him. She was exquisite.

  Goosebumps crawled up Charlotte’s arms under his heated stare, her mouth went dry. “I thought you could tell me,” she whispered.

  Nicholas was thoughtful for a moment and then letting out a low, husky laugh, he asked, “Seriously?”

  His greys bore into her browns, causing a flaming heat to spread through her blood stream. That look, it was all she needed to regain her nerve. Biting down on her lower lip, she said, “Tell me.” It was a whispered demand, a means of seduction.

  Nicholas released his hold on her. “Get on your knees,” he growled.

  “And then what?”

  Nicholas laughed softly. “What do you think?”

  “I want you to tell me what you want,” she breathed. “Step by step.” It was an invitation of pleasure− pure temptation.

  Nicholas’ body grew heavy with need. “Get on your knees and undo my pants.”

  Charlotte did as she was told, and then staring up at him with innocent eyes, she asked, “Now what?”

  His shaft jumped in anticipation, growing harder, longer, stretching the restrictive material of his boxers as it strained for release. “My boxers. Pull them down,” he instructed, his dark gaze steady on her face.

  Charlotte’s fingertips gripped the waistband of his boxer briefs, and without hesitation she pulled them down his legs to rest at his ankles with his black trousers. Her almond brown eyes widened at the heaviness of his erection. Blinking up at him, she whispered, “Now, what?” Her cool breath caressed the tip of his manhood, causing it to pulse with need.

  Nicholas’ voice was hoarse. “Put my cock in your mouth.”

  With that, Charlotte leaned forward and took him into her mouth causing a low groan to form in his throat. Citrus filled her nostrils, the light fragrance emanating from his pores− from his shaft heightened her arousal. Her tongue stroked across the tip of his heavy erection, teasing, as her hands caressed the full length of him. It was a pleasure pain sensation that had him bucking forward. Fisting his hand in her thick curly hair, Nicholas forced her to take more of him into the heat of her mouth. “That’s it,” he coaxed, closing his eyes to the intensity of pleasure that was threatening to consume him, his every nerve ending was ignited, set ablaze by the ecstasy of her touch. “Just like that.” It was a wild pleasure that he would never get enough of− a craving that would never diminish.

  Opening his eyes once more, Nicholas bit down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud, but it was a vain effort. She was pushing him over the edge, dismantling his control. A deep moan poured past his parted lips as she swallowed the full length of his cock into her needy mouth. Hungrily, she devoured him− licking, sucking, stroking him with sure hands. “Ahh,” Nicholas cried out, thrusting his hips harder. His breathing accelerated− became harsh. “Dimple, I’m about to cum,” he groaned, attempting to back away from her. Charlotte tightened her hold on his shaft. “Mmt-mm,” she protested, continuing to devour him, refusing to release her hold on his now swollen penis. “Ahh,” he cried out again, as his seed spilled out of him in rapids.

  Charlotte held his gaze as she swallowed his essence. It was a euphoric feeling, knowing that she could make him lose control, that she could bring him to a fever pitch. Licking the length of him one last time, she lapped at the last remnants of cum drizzling from his now sensitive tip. It was only after the last trickle of his creamy seed had been emptied onto her tongue, that she released her hold on him. Licking her lips, she stared up at Nicholas with bright doe eyes.

  Nicholas shook his head in disbelief. Pulling his wife to her feet, he began, “I−” but then, stopped himself. He was at a loss for words.

  “Thank you,” Charlotte grinned at him, pleased with herself.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Ms. Toutant, a few more of your boxes have been delivered. Where would you like them?” asked Rachel Clemons, the blonde haired, blue eyed, floor secretary.

  Charlotte looked up from the massive load of paperwork covering her desk to find the other woman standing in her doorway, holding more boxes than her small frame should have allowed. “Rachel,” Charlotte gasped. Quickly rising from her chair, she rounded the mahogany desk and rushed across her office. “You shouldn’t have troubled yourself with my mess,” she said, taking several boxes from Rachel’s small hands and placing them along the
wall. “Carrying packages is not part of your job description,” she chastised. “And I know first- hand how frustrating it is to work outside of ones’ job description.”

  Rachel laughed sweetly. “I don’t mind, Ms. Toutant. I am happy to help. Besides, it would have been too much for you to carry by yourself.”

  “You managed pretty well,” Charlotte acknowledged, returning the other woman’s smile. Contrary to the cackling hyenas who plagued the hallways with their ignorance and unprofessionalism, Rachel had always taken the high road. Not once had Charlotte fallen prey to vicious words, or nasty stares from the other woman in the years they had been acquainted. Rachel always kept a professional demeanor towards Charlotte, despite the plethora of rumors that were consistently spread about her within the company. For that alone, she held a high esteem for her colleague and respected her immensely.

  Following Charlotte’s lead, Rachel gently sat the remaining boxes along the same wall. “My two brothers have their own moving company and I help them out from time to time . . . so, a few boxes filled with office supplies is nothing I can’t handle,” she explained. “Do you need help unpacking?”

  “No. No. I couldn’t ask you to do anything else for me. You’ve done too much already.”

  “Okay, well if there’s nothing else I am going to head back to my desk,” she offered. Let me know if you need−”

  “Rachel, I’m sure Charlotte will be just fine without your help,” came a familiar voice from behind her. “What is she, if not persistent?”

  Glancing over her shoulder, Rachel turned to stare into cold blue eyes. “Oh! Mr. Proctor. I didn’t see you there,” she said, forcing a smile. “If I had known that you were waiting to speak to Ms. Toutant, I wouldn’t have monopolized her time.”

  Charlotte’s warm smile faltered, and then quickly faded at the sight of Dean standing in her doorway. Just the sight of him made her skin crawl; itch from the depravity of his malevolent aura. “Rachel,” Charlotte said, stopping the woman’s departure from her office. “An apology to Dean is quite unnecessary. After all, we were in the middle of a conversation that he rudely interrupted. He should be the one apologizing for his lack of propriety.”