Stiletto Secrets (18 page)

He laughed, and it was a deep, attractive sound which was music to her ears.

And then he stopped laughing. “Have dinner with me.” It wasn’t a question.

“Are you asking me out on a date, Mr. Blake?” Emma sat down on her couch, a big smile still plastered all over her face.

“I might be.”

“Usually the guy asks the girl out on a date before he seduces her.”

“I don’t like doing things in the usual way, Miss Tremaine. You should know that by now.”

Silence.

“I want to see you. Please have dinner with me.” Now it sounded more like a plea.

Emma bit the inside of her mouth and—

“Emma, I can practically see you scrunching up your nose.”

She was not…yeah, she totally was.

She leaned back in the couch and took a curl between her fingers, twirling it like an in love teenage girl. “Okay, fine.”

“Great. I’ll pick you up in half an hour.”

“No!” Emma jerked upright. “No. Tell me where we’re going and I’ll meet you there.” She didn’t want him to see where she lived. Her living conditions weren’t something she wanted Nicholas to witness. He didn’t have to see that she only had one couch which used to belong to her grandparents. And he didn’t have to know that everything inside her apartment was secondhand.

“Emma, let me pick you up,” Nicholas insisted. But there was no way she wanted him anywhere near her embarrassment of an apartment.

“Tell me, and I’ll meet you there.”

He went quiet, but she could still hear him breathing.

“Fine,” he conceded reluctantly. “Do you still remember how to get to Billy’s Pub?”

“I do.”

“Can you be there in half an hour?”

“See you there.”

She was just about to hang up when he said, “Emma?”

“Yes?”

There was a second’s pause. “What are you wearing?”

“Oh my God! I’m hanging up now.” She hung up, but Emma was smiling from ear to ear.

Within ten minutes Emma was dressed in a decent pair of skinny jeans, black pumps and one of only two blouses she owned. She quickly fluffed up her hair, letting her curls hang down her shoulders, and put on just a smidge of lip gloss. Emma had never been one to spend hours and hours on a beauty regime, but tonight she kind of wished that she had the means to just make herself a little more beautiful for him.

As Emma reached the front door on her way out, she stopped.

Her stomach was filled with a thousand crazy butterflies, fluttering around creating the most thrilling sense of excitement. Emma was excited. She was looking forward to seeing him…and she was falling in love.

But there was still that damn prickle of warning in the back of her skull, a bone-chilling fear that she would lose something she never really had in the first place…Nicholas.

Emma knew that she was being reckless with her heart, but she just couldn’t stop herself. Even if she just had him for a few days it would be better than to never have him at all. Maybe that’s how all the other women felt as well. They would rather have had him for a night, experience Nicholas Blake for a few hours than not have him at all. Now suddenly she could relate.

Emma dashed out of the apartment and whistled for a cab. Her stomach felt like she had a thousand butterflies flying around in there, and her mind raced with thoughts of Nicholas.

Oh boy, she had it real bad, didn’t she?

Soon she was standing on the sidewalk in front of Billy’s Pub staring at the most beautiful man she had ever seen. Ink-black hair, short on the sides, longer curls on top, and piercing blue eyes that captivated her in their brilliance every time she looked at them.

“Hey.” She stared at him looking utterly gorgeous in a pair of jeans and gray shirt. Even though she was dressed casually too, it felt like she just wasn’t going to do him justice as his date.

“Hey, princess.” Nicholas walked up to her and wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her closer. “For some reason I couldn’t stop thinking about you today.” He kissed her right in the corner of her mouth sending a wave of tingles down her back, straight to her toes.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It’s a very, very bad thing. I didn’t close one damn deal today.” His lips glided up to her ear, the warmth of his breath coating her skin like wisps of satin. “And all the blueprints I tried to work on ended up in the garbage.”

Emma placed her hands on his shoulders, her body becoming liquid in his arms. “Oh no, that sounds really, really bad.” She whimpered when he took her earlobe between his warm, wet lips.

“Emma?” He tightened his hold around her waist.

“Yes, Nicholas?”

“If you don’t stop me right now, I take no responsibility if you and I end up naked on the sidewalk.”

Emma chuckled, and then pushed him back slightly, reluctantly.

Nicholas took a deep breath and pulled his fingers through his hair which was all disheveled and perfectly messy.

“I know I’m probably going to sound like a giant prick right now.” He focused those brilliant blues on her. “But I have never wanted to be with any woman over and over and over again, like I want to be with you.”

Emma lifted an eyebrow. “You’re right, you do sound like a giant prick.” But then she shot him a coy grin.

Nicholas reached out and wrapped his arm around her shoulder. “Come on, Miss Smart Mouth, I’m starving.”

Emma looked around as they started walking along the sidewalk, slightly confused. “Are we walking?”

“Yup.”

She continued to look around, feeling even more confused. “Where are we walking to?”

“You’ll see.”

Nicholas never let go of her the entire time they were walking to God knows where. His arm remained around her shoulder, and she nestled deeper into his side with every step she took. For that few precious moments, Emma allowed herself to think that they were just like any other normal couple enjoying each other’s company on a lovely spring evening. Nicholas wasn’t one of Chicago’s most eligible bachelors, and Emma wasn’t a maid
or a stripper
.

It felt good, it felt right, but it also felt
temporary.

“And here we are.” They stopped in front of—

“Portillo’s Hotdogs?” Emma stared at the sign in the window, surprised.

“Best damn hotdogs in Chicago.” Nicholas smiled like he could already taste the food.

Emma snorted.

Nicholas glanced down at her. “What?”

“I just never figured you for a hot dog kind of guy.” Emma shrugged.

Nicholas turned to her and took her hand in his. “You really think you have me all figured out, don’t you?”

“Not in the least,” she replied, and frowned as she eyed him curiously. “But I will admit that I did kind of stereotype you since you wear those suits of yours so well.” She stepped forward and stared up into his brilliant blue eyes that made her think of warm summer mornings and clear skies.

He lifted his brows. “You think I look good in a suit?”

“Mr. Blake, I doubt there’s anything in this world you wouldn’t look good in.”

Nicholas closed his eyes like he had tasted something delicious, savoring it. “Hmmm, nothing like a little flirty ass kissing on a beautiful spring night.”

Emma slapped him on the shoulder. “Come on Mr. I-have-a-ginormous-ego, let’s go get some hotdogs.”

“Urgh, I love it when you take charge.”

Emma shot him a sideward glance and then they walked into Portillo’s Hotdog joint. She would admit that she was kind of surprised when Nicholas brought her here. Somehow she thought he would take her to one of those stiff restaurants where you were too scared to breathe, and too scared to empty your plate since the dice-sized piece of steak cost you an arm and a leg. But he brought her here for hotdogs, and Emma loved it. She loved that even though he was a multi-millionaire he had no problem in joining the middle class for an unhealthy, juicy hot-dog, stacked with pickles, onions, tomatoes and peppers. And don’t forget the mustard.

After they found a little table in the corner and placed their order, she felt a foot rubbing against hers.

She looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Nicholas?”

“Emma?” He cocked a dark brow.

“Are you playing footsy with me?”

“What if I am?” He shot her a suggestive grin and pulled his eyebrows up.

Emma leaned back in her seat. “Are we here to eat hotdogs, or play footsy?”

“Can we do both?”

Emma laughed, and then she noticed he was staring at her pensively. She nervously tucked her hair behind her ear. “What?”

“You’re beautiful.”

Emma glanced down at the table as her cheeks warmed.

“Why do you do that?” Nicholas asked, cocking his head to the side.

“Do what?” She still didn’t look at him.

“Look away whenever I give you a compliment.”

“I just…” She turned her head to the side glancing at the crowd around them. “I just…”

“You’re not used to being given compliments, are you?”

Emma turned to face him and etched her eyes on his.

He was right, she wasn’t used to being given compliments that didn’t stem from seeing her in stiletto heels and lace.

“I get shy easily.”

Nicholas was about to say something when the waiter arrived with their drinks. The waiter placed her chocolate shake and Nicholas’s Coke on the table in front of them. Nicholas eyed her shake. “That looks delicious.”

Emma took the straw between her fingers. “You don’t come to Portillo’s and not order a chocolate shake.”

Then their hotdogs arrived. Huge, stacked with a load of other toppings, hotdogs that screamed calories and cholesterol. It looked delicious.

“I would love to see you finish that hotdog after you have that shake,” Nicholas challenged.

“I’m not one of your America’s Top Model girlfriends, Nicholas. I can handle my shakes and hotdogs.” She smiled at him wryly.

There was a wolfish grin on Nicholas’s face. “I’d love to see what else you can handle, Miss Tremaine.”

“I’m sure you would.”

They continued to stare at each other as the air around them started to pulse with lusty anticipation. The crowd around them no longer existed, it was just them and that irresistible magnetic pull that enthralled them, possessed them. Emma felt heat rise inside of her chest, a slow throbbing ache starting inside of her.

“Emma?” Nicholas said, like he didn’t want to break the static between them. “Are you just as turned on as I am right now?”

Emma almost moaned out loud when he said that. She shifted in her seat, unable to sit still anymore, clenching her thighs.

Nicholas lifted a brow, keeping his alluring gaze on her. “I think you are.”

“Nicholas, we’re having dinner.” She desperately tried to ignore the fiery need that had now taken hold of her entire body.

He leaned over the table. “Right now, I’m very hungry, Emma, and it ain’t for no fucking hotdog.”

She closed her eyes and swallowed hard before pulling her fingers through her curls, trying to get her breathing under control. “We need to eat.”

“I agree.” Nicholas leered at her with eyes that spoke tales of unbridled pleasure and long nights of enticing excitement.

“Hotdogs, we need to eat hotdogs.” Emma corrected herself, knowing all too well what he was insinuating.

Nicholas took a visibly deep breath and then leaned back in his seat. “Fine. Hotdogs then.”

Emma snickered.

“So, since I desperately need a change in subject right now, and it needs to be something unpleasant in order for me to get through our hotdog dinner without me pulling you over this table, tell me about your history with Claire.”

Emma cringed at the sound of her name. “Does it have to be
that
unpleasant?”

Nicholas nodded. “I’m
that
turned on, so yes.”

“I told you everything there is to tell the other night.” Emma shrugged.

“Tell me what part Claire played in it all.” Nicholas started at his hotdog.

“Like I told you, Claire’s manipulative skills are exemplary,” Emma said with as much sarcasm she could muster. “With her fake eyelashes and red lips she can charm her way out of anything.”

“Yeah, I kind of noticed that.”

Emma narrowed her eyes. “Why exactly does your father want you with her anyway?”

“I don’t know really. I think that Claire just has her claws in him and he thinks that with their money—”

“My dad’s money,” Emma chimed in with a snarl.

“Your money,” Nicholas corrected, “that it would be beneficial for both our company and theirs.”

“Again, my dad’s company.” Emma felt bile rise up her throat with every word. To listen how Claire and Lillian had claimed everything her father had built up as theirs just made her stomach churn.

“I have to admit,” Nicholas said, leaning back in his chair, “I never would have guessed that they manipulated their way into money. Although, I always got this idea that Claire was a gold digger searching for men whose bank accounts are even bigger than hers. But I’ve always been under the impression that their money was, you know…
their
money.”

Emma stirred the straw in her shake. “Well now you know.”

At this point, Emma would rather have Nicholas pull her over the table in front of everyone than continue on with this conversation.

“Emma?” Nicholas sat up straight. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” She shot him a reassuring smile. “I just don’t like digging up stuff from the past. It took Lizzy and I a long time to bury it all.”

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to open up old scars.”

“It’s okay. It’s just kind of ironic that when I thought I was finally rid of them, they resurface out of the blue. They’re like a bad rash it seems. They just never go away.”

They were silent for a while, both of them chewing on a bite of food. Then Emma looked at him. “Why me, Nicholas?”

“You asked me that before, and I answered.”

“I know, why not me. But you can have any woman you want. You can have a woman like Claire.”

“I don’t want Claire. I want you.”

“But why? I have nothing to offer you. I’m a maid for God’s sake. You deserve so much better.”

Nicholas reached over the table and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tight. “You might not wear designer clothes and yes, you work as a maid, but you have more class than any of the women I’ve wasted my time on.” He spoke with so much conviction that Emma almost believed him. Almost.