by Candi Heart
He laughed. “Oh, really now?”
Nodding, I took another sip of my red. “Like, I was wondering...”
He looked very curious and leaned forward.
You cannot tell him you wondered what he tasted like, Em! “What you wished to hire me for.” Yes, good lie, but not a total lie. I did want to know.
“Well, honestly, I would like to hire you to...” he paused and set his glass down. “To head your own designer line, carte blanche.”
I set my glass down with a clatter and a splash. “What?”
He stood. “Emilie, you—”
“My own line?” I repeated rather loudly.
Nick made his way over to my side of the table. He grabbed a napkin from my place-setting, and then started to dab at my lap.
Staring down, I saw the wine on my new and very expensive dress. “Oh no!” I stood up and knocked him back.
By the time I turned around, I saw him on his perfect, good-looking ass, staring up at me from the pristine marble floor. I gasped.
“Well, that makes it clear to me,” he whispered.
I covered my mouth with my hands. Clear? That I’m a klutz, a clumsy—
“You have now literally knocked me on my ass, when I already felt that way since the minute I first saw you.” Nick grinned up at me.
Chapter 9
I STARED DOWN AT THE incredibly hot man on the floor with my mouth open in a perfect O.
Nick started laughing.
A smile finally crossed my lips. Did he just say—?
“You are what I thought you might be,” he said as he wiped his tears away from laughing.
“And what’s that? A danger to hot Italian men?” I blurted out with laughter.
His laughing halted and he stood, looking down at me now. “You think I’m hot?”
Oh, crap! My face heated. “Well, I’m clumsy, not blind,” I retorted with more confidence than I felt.
I wondered at my brash talk. It must be the wine, and the hot Italian dish I’d been looking at all night—and I didn’t mean the ravioli.
He grabbed my hand. “No. You’re precious. Unjaded, hopeful, smart, and talented.”
My throat closed. No one had ever used those words to describe me, ever. Just watch it, Em. Smooth talkers are usually smooth operators. SHUT UP, MOM! I was pretty sure I wasn’t sane at the current moment. My mother tagging along for this dream? I stared down at his hand holding mine.
He chuckled. “I keep touching you.” He leaned in close to my lips. “But what I really want is to taste you.”
I had no brash retorts, no pithy comebacks. He made it sound like he wanted to feast. Goosebumps rose on my skin just at the thought.
He grinned, half apologetically, half cocky. “I’m rushing it a bit, aren’t I?”
I nodded, and then my mouth betrayed good sense. “But I like it.”
He dropped my hand. “Well, how about dessert?”
Yes, you, no clothes and a can of whipped cream. I took a moment to imagine this scenario before snapping out of my Nick-induced daze.
“Emilie?” he asked.
“Oh! Yes! So is one of these carts a dessert cart?”
He nodded and again, took my hand to lead me to one. He then uncovered several domes.
“Oh, wow!” I exclaimed. “There must be a hundred pounds of fat on this cart alone!”
Nick laughed. “I seriously doubt that.”
“You would, just look at you. I mean, I bet there’s not an ounce of fat on you.” Oh, man. I sighed. Fat mouth. Big, fat mouth.
Nick stared at me. “Maybe not, but you don’t need to worry about it, either.”
“Not worry? I blew my diet tonight already.” There you go again, blowing... it... literally
“You’re on a diet?” He stared at me, looking puzzled.
“Yes. I mean, just look at me.”
“I am looking at you. Have been all night.” He shook his head and raised my hand to kiss it. “I see nothing but lovely curves.”
Her body trembled. “Are you a fan of that Punked show?”
He tilted his head. “The what show?”
I could swear I was being punked. This man could not be real. Did Novak set this up to humiliate me? To test my loyalty? “Never mind. Let’s just choose one. I like the cherries jubilee.”
His eyes widened.
“What?” I asked.
“Score another point for Emilie. That’s my favorite dessert.” He leaned in close and purred in my ear, “I love cherries...”
My body shook from his hot breath hitting my ear.
He pulled back. “Are you cold? I mean this is a huge, drafty room.”
Cold? He must be kidding. Hot would be the word. Oh, man, I’m in so much trouble. My mom’s right this time, dammit. If I give in to this quickly, he’ll drop me just as quick. And what about the job? The line? Damn, too much closeness and I almost forget what he said. Wait. What if he was just saying that just to reel me in?
“Emilie? Are you cold?” he repeated, moving closer to me.
He smelled like heaven. He wore a light cologne, but it was mixed with his scent. He could bottle himself and put it out as a designer cologne line. I giggled as I thought of an ad line: An ounce of Tessaro and you’ll be hooked. I had to move away from him—and now. Get some distance, as my brain was getting fuzzy. I stepped back. “No, you’re hot enough for the both of us.” I laughed nervously. “Sorry. I’ll shut up now.”
He chuckled again. “You are so cute.”
I’m cute? He’s adorable, lickable, and all kinds of DO-able... and he thinks I’m cute? I squared my shoulders. Quit, just quit while you’re ahead here.
He led me back to the table. He then took a napkin, dunked it into the glass of water, and began dabbing at my dress. “There, I think it’ll wash out. It’s a beauty of a dress.” He tilted his head as he looked intrigued, and then leaned over my back and tickled my neck.
I shivered and giggled. “Mr. Tes—”
“Tessaro!” he exclaimed.
That made me jump. “W-What?”
He grinned. “I peeked at the label. You sure know how to impress a guy.”
I shook my head. “Y-you mean the dress?”
He laughed and lowered me into my chair. “A nice touch, I have to admit.”
“Nice...?” I was so lost.
“You wore a Tessaro to our date!” He went over to the cart to grab a serving spoon and the jubilee.
“My dress is one of yours?” I asked dumbly. What was wrong with me? How had I not realized that?
He paused at the table, his brows raised. “You mean you really didn’t know?”
I started laughing. My nerves had finally stretched too far. “No!” I doubled over in my chair laughing at the audacity of the coincidence. “Seriously. I didn’t know. I picked it up today, fell in love with the style... No wonder it fit so perfectly and made me look...” my words and laughter halted immediately.
“Yes, it does make you look like a goddess.” He beamed. “Bellisimo! I designed it for the perfect woman, I had told my staff at the time. The kind of woman I wanted for myself.”
My mouth again fell open. What? I just could not believe it. Was he actually saying I was the woman for him?
He set my dessert dish down on the table, knelt by my chair, and picked up a spoon.
I gulped. The man was so gorgeous. And that smile...
He spooned the dessert up and raised the spoon to my lips. Open up, Em. I did. Nick spooned it in slowly and watched my lips closely.
This was a sensuous moment, wasn’t it? I’d read about this type of thing, but had never experienced it myself. A hot man feeding me cherries? The heated look in his eyes made me tremble all over. “Mmm,” I moaned at the flavor of the cherry dessert assaulting my taste buds.
His eyes rounded and he grunted. “Covolo!” Taking a deep breath, he stood, holding the spoon out to me. “You’d better do this on your own before I embarrass myself.”
&
nbsp; I took the spoon as I stared at his stiff posture. Then I realized what he meant. He’s got a hard-on? For me? I nearly fell over with disbelief. Then I watched him walk over to his chair gingerly and sit down stiffly. Oh. My... He does! No, no. It can’t be. Then I realized I was as turned on as he was. Trouble, trouble. Just breathe, Em, breathe. I inhaled deeply and let it out slow. Change the subject, change the subject! “Um, the story about the dress is kind of a cute one, actually.”
He spooned out his cherries. “Really?”
Nodding, I spooned up more delicious cherries into my mouth, then moaned again.
“Could you please not do that?” he asked in a quiet voice, a strained look on his perfect face.
I looked up startled. “Not do...?”
He nodded. “Let me see if I can do this right.” He spooned the cherries and took a bite, then moaned low as he swallowed.
That sent a flush in me, deep inside, and I began tingling. “Ohhh!”
“Yes, you see it’s a sinful dessert and doesn’t need...” He stopped and stared at my face. Then he cleared his throat. “So, the story?”
I couldn’t pull my gaze away from him. His dark eyes looked even darker, more intense, almost stormy. “Oh, yes.” If I could speak coherently enough to tell it, that is. “I went through my whole closet. Then I took a trip downtown to my favorite store. I couldn’t find anything. What covers something that is a date, or possibly just business?”
Nodding, Nick leaned his chin on his hand, seemingly enraptured by my tale.
“Well, there was this clerk, um, I’ve known for a long time...” I knew I shouldn’t tell him the whole thing. But maybe it would blow this whole thing up and be out in the open if I did. “She found the dress, and by this time I was so worked up, I never looked at the label...”
He smiled and motioned for me to continue.
Okay, I will. I decided I did need to. “Then she said how it fit me like a glove, like it was made for... Me?”
He sat straighter in his chair. “I can’t argue there, I’m pretty convinced it was!”
“Wait, let me finish, before I lose my nerve. Now the next part may, uh, make you mad.”
He raised his dark brows at me.
“Yes, so she says, ‘your date will love it’ and I of course, I didn’t believe that...”
He looked troubled as I stopped.
I decided to plunge on before I chickened out. “I told her your name just so she would know what I meant. She was totally stunned. But then she I hugged me and laughed. Well, I was confused, so I asked her, ‘You really think a man like that would be interested in me?’ All this for a dress! It’s crazy.”
Nick sat forward, and his expression grew serious.
“She then dragged me to the counter, took out her laptop and...” I really thought about what I was about to impart. Should I? I went on without letting my mind entrap me into doubts. “She showed me photos of the dates you often had on your arm. Saying that...” that I was far prettier than any of them.
He smiled at me. “...That your curves are what I like?”
Nodding rapidly, I fell silent.
“Then how did you feel?”
Be honest, Em, be honest. “Happy. Excited. When I stepped back out on the sidewalk, it was like the sun shone brighter and I went home in a daze, until...”
He grabbed my hand from across the table. “Until...?”
“Well, then I ran into my neighbors.” I stared down at my hands, picking at a nail with a small piece of cherry sauce on it.
“What happened?” he asked gently.
Did I tell him? Did I risk sounding like jealous, miserable girl? “They’re what I call ‘model-thin, skinny bitches’.”
He laughed. “I know the type. Catty, passive-aggressive biatches. Spaghetti noodles that have no sauce.”
My eyes widened. A food analogy? I’d never heard it put like that before.
He nodded. “Go on, finish it.”
“Well, when I saw them, I realized I was just pipe-dreaming, again. Then they invited me to a party on Friday, well just to be snide, as they followed it up with, ‘oh, and bring a date.’ Like it was a challenge. Like fat, ol’ Em couldn’t get a date.”
Nick looked angry and stood up from his chair. “Never, ever use that word.”
I blinked up at him, confused.
Coming around the table, he lifted me out of my chair, and I gasped. Ignoring my reaction, he led me over to the bar. “Look!”
I was breathless as I stared at the mirror behind the bar he pointed to. I saw myself standing next to the hottest guy I’d possibly ever seen. Then I saw myself looking flushed.
“You are beautiful, curvy... bellisimo.” He put his arms around me and squeezed. “Wearing the dress I made for you...” He kissed my neck.
I swallowed hard while my body shivered, and then it seemed to light on fire from his heat of his hot mouth on my neck.
He sighed and stepped back. I almost fell over.
Laughing, he set me steady on my feet. “So, are you going?”
Blinking my eyes, I was much too dizzy, because I sure didn’t know what the hell he was talking about. “Going?”
“To this party.”
“Oh...” I waved my hand. “Of course not. They’ve invited me before just to humiliate me, so no.”
He shook his head. “What about if I go with you?”
Remembering my catty thoughts of showing up with him and rubbing their skinny, pointed noses in it, I laughed.
He pulled his head back.
“No, no. I did not mean that it was funny—”
Pulling me close, he promised, “I swear I would not embarrass you.”
That made me chuckle. “No, you wouldn’t. I just thought at the time, wouldn’t it be something if I did show up with you?”
“Bene, um good, we have the same thoughts. Again, you are just what I need, what I want.”
At his words, I felt fearful again. It must have shone in my eyes as he took my hand and led me back to the table. “Let’s finish our lovely cherries.”
I nodded. He could have mine so I could feast on him.
Stop it, Em! Just eat. The dessert. Just eat the dessert.
Chapter 10
NICK WALKED ME DOWN to the lobby. He then handed me the sketchpad. “I want you to bring this and any of mine you’ve worked on when you come to work with me.”
I shifted my weight. “I feel funny about leaving Novak.” I sighed. “Not that he deserves loyalty...”
Nodding his head, Nick touched my hand. “It’s okay to feel that way, anyone would who is loyal would. But the offer remains open, okay?”
“Okay.”
He leaned down and kissed my cheek. “I’ll see you again.”
The skin on my cheek tingled and I reached up to touch it. “Yes, I hope so.”
He smiled. “I know so.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I headed toward the limo. The chauffeur stood there with head bowed by the open car door.
Slipping in, I heard him mutter, “I told you so.”
I glanced up and the man actually gave me a wink, and then he shut the door.
I rode home in a dreamy haze. Nick. His words, his scent, his humor. The man was perfect. My head snapped up as I realized that I always said there was no such thing. Well, my mother had said it, but I had started to agree with her, when, over the years, my dates turned out to be douches again and again. I sighed. Still, Nick did seem perfect. Waiting on me throughout dinner. Not pushing it too far when in reality, I would have probably just let him throw me over the bar, and...
“We have arrived, Miss Swan,” the voice came over the speaker.
Startled, I realized I just rode fifteen minutes and didn’t even realize how time had passed. Oh, boy, I have it bad. Maybe I’d better wait on deciding if I should be around this man fulltime.
The car stopped and I moved to take the handle, and then remembered how this guy took his job very seriously, so
I waited.
Opening the door, he stepped aside.
Getting out, I stood. There, at the top steps, were Bren-Barbie-whatz-her-face. My mouth popped open.
Well, what a perfect ending to a perfect night. I lifted my chin and stepped forward.
The chauffeur walked beside me as if he knew I was about to enter the battle zone. Or was I supposed to tip him?
“Um, thank you, for driving.”
He nodded and went up the steps ahead of me to open the door.
Feeling butterflies, I laughed. All the while, Barbie woman stood on the sidewalk staring.
Chauffeur nodded at her, and then turned to me. “I am to walk you all the way to your door, as per Nick’s instructions.”
Oh, so that’s why he’s sorta stalking me. I giggled with a nod, and went inside.
He made it to the stairs and stopped to wait for me. I wanted to make a joke and ask if he intended to carry me up them. I refrained, as I already knew this man would not take the joke so well. As I stepped past him, I giggled again at the image of him staggering up them while holding me.
He followed all the way, just like he’d announced. Right up to my door. Then he waited as I fished for my keys, inserted the key in my lock, and opened the door. “Thank you... Um, I never got your name?”
He smiled. “It’s Gregory.”
“Okay, thanks, Gregory.”
He tipped his hat to me. “I have the feeling we’ll be seeing each other often.” He turned and strode down the hall.
He does, does he? I smiled as I went in and stood in my entryway. I just stood there and stared. It was the same apartment, the same view. The same couch awaited me; I was still just chubby ol’ Em. But in reality, nothing was the same now. Suddenly, I jumped up in the air with one of those corny ‘click your heels’ things and whooped really loud. Then I almost landed wrong in my heels.
Whoopsie.
Laughing at my silliness that no one but I would ever know about, I staggered to the couch and slumped down. You just had a date with the hottest designer to hit Broadway, Emilie. He said things to you no man had ever uttered. He literally wined and dined you, waiting on you like a queen.
