Читать книгу Our First Embrace - Judy Hubbard Lynn - Страница 11

Chapter 4

Around noon, Nicole had finished one of Monique’s requested revisions of her sketch and was starting on the second when the hair on the back of her neck stood up in rapt attention. Instinctively, she knew Alexander had entered the designers’ area. It was uncanny that she could feel him before she saw him.

He stopped to answer a question from another designer. Nicole heard him laugh heartily, which was a sound she could really get used to. She held her breath involuntarily, praying he wouldn’t stop by her station, which, of course, he did.

He stood beside her desk silently for a few seconds, willing her to look at him. She knew she couldn’t ignore him and slowly raised her eyes to his.

“You’re not using Victor’s design software?”

“I’ve played with it, and it’s fabulous,” Nicole carefully began.

“But?” Alex smiled slightly. At her hesitation he ordered, “Be perfectly honest.”

“But when I first create a design, I have to do it with my charcoal pencil and paper.” She shrugged. “It allows me to feel the design. I don’t know how else to explain it.”

“You explained it perfectly,” Alex assured. “I know exactly what you mean.”

Nicole sighed in relief that she hadn’t offended him. “You, too?”

“Yep.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only weird one.”

“Hardly.” Alex winked, pulled up a chair beside her and sat down. “May I steal of piece of your paper?”

“Of course.” Nicole tore off a couple of sheets from her pad and handed them to him, along with a charcoal pencil.

“I’m going to start a design.” He began effortlessly sketching. “And you’re going to finish it.”

Nicole’s heart jumped into her throat at his casual, terrifying statement. Was he serious? The walls started closing in on her, and she gulped in air. She glanced down at his hands as they expertly glided over the paper, and the formations of an elegant beaded blouse began to take shape. Oh, Lord, please let me remember how to sketch, she silently prayed.

“Okay.” He handed her the paper and charcoal. “Your turn.”

Nicole cautiously took the pencil from him and held it between her shaking fingers. She willed her nerves to subside; however, they persisted mercilessly.

“I’m not sure what you want.” Nicole’s terrified eyes stared into his serious ones.

“I want you to revise my design any way you see fit to make it better,” he elaborated.

“You want me to make your design better?”

He chuckled at her incredulity. “Yes.”

“Okay,” she nervously agreed. “I’ll try.”

How was she supposed to improve on Alexander James’s design? She swallowed her apprehension, took a calming breath and started revising as requested. After hesitating endlessly, she finally added jeweled cuffs to the sheer sleeves to match the neckline, which she changed from the square design Alexander had created into a sweetheart one. Last, she lengthened the blouse by an inch.

When she finished he didn’t say a word, simply took the charcoal from her and sketched a pencil skirt, followed by a ball gown. He handed the sketches and charcoal back to her, which she took and immediately began revising. The only design he rerevised was the ball gown and insisted she do the same. They spent about forty minutes together designing, and it was nerve-racking, but also exhilarating.

“How did I do?” She held her breath.

For a few minutes Alex studied the three designs they had created without responding. She fought against tapping her fingers impatiently on the desktop or shaking him to get an answer; instead, she folded her hands in her lap and waited for his critique.

“Very nice,” he finally answered, and she frowned.

“Is that good?”

“That’s good.” At his assurance, she released her heretofore held breath on an audible sigh. “Well done.”

“That was nerve-racking,” she admitted with a slight smile.

“I know.” He touched her hand briefly. “Come on, wasn’t it just a little bit fun?”

“It was—now that it’s over.” She laughed, and he joined her.

“Which is your favorite?” He spread the designs out on her desk for her review.

“The ball gown.”

“Mine, too.”

He picked up the design and studied it. Their codesign was floor length, free-flowing and simply elegant. It was Grecian-inspired, sleeveless, cut into a deep V nearly to the waist, which was gathered with a wide sequined belt, and the skirt cascaded down to the floor in soft folds.

“What material would you use for this?”

“Chiffon.” Nicole decided without hesitation. “This gown was made for layers and layers of chiffon.”

“I agree,” Alex said approvingly. “I think this might have a place in our April fashion show.”

Nicole’s eyes dilated to twice their normal size. Surely he was teasing her. Wasn’t he?

“Are you serious?”

“Absolutely.” Alex smiled at her shocked expression. “This will be the first James-Carter creation.”

Nicole was too flabbergasted and thrilled to respond to this fantastic news. She didn’t know which was more thrilling—designing a gown with him or the fact that he had referred to it as their first one. Somebody pinch her; she was going to codesign a gown for a fashion show with Alexander James!

“Wow.” She wasn’t aware of speaking out loud, but Alexander’s chuckle informed her she had.

“I hear Monique asked you to move in with her.”

“What?” Nicole blinked rapidly at his change in subject.

“I said I heard that Monique asked you to move in with her.”

“Oh. Yes, she did.”

“She told me you refused to relocate until the weekend because of work,” he continued.

Nicole groaned. “I wish she hadn’t said anything to you.”

“Why?”

“Because...” She faltered, unwilling to finish verbalizing her reasons.

“You thought I’d make a big deal if you asked to take the time off to move,” he correctly completed for her.

“It’s not a problem,” she quickly guaranteed. “I’m fine with moving over the weekend, Mr. James.”

“Alex,” he reminded with a smile.

“Alexander.” She opted for the full version instead. “I don’t expect nor do I want any special privileges.”

“And you won’t get any,” he quickly assured. “Nicole, you’ve relocated from another country. You’re entitled to time off to move. Leave here at two today, and get yourself situated at your new place.”

“But...”

“That’s an order,” he commanded in mock sternness. “Just make sure you’re here bright and early in the morning.”

“I will be,” she promised as he stood. “Thank you, Mr.—I mean, Alexander.”

“You’re welcome.”

He studied the designs she had been working on before he interrupted her. “That’s nice. You’re working on a variation of this?”

“Two. Monique wanted one with a different top and another with a longer skirt.”

“Why don’t you also do one that shortens the hem by half an inch and add a slight flare to the skirt?”

“I will.”

“What type of material are you thinking of using?”

“It’s meant for casual wear, so I was entertaining jersey knit for freedom of movement and ease of care.”

“Good choice.” His eyes strayed to her desk to the pictures arranged there. “Your family?”

She followed his eyes and smiled. “Yes.”

“May I?” He pointed toward the wedding photo showing them all.

“Please.” She handed him the photo.

“Your brother’s wedding?”

“Yes.” She waited for a snide remark, and when none came, she relaxed and pointed everyone out. “That’s Nathan and Marcy. That’s my sister Natasha and her husband, Damien—who’s Marcy’s brother.” She paused and glanced at him. “Are you following me?”

“Yeah, I think so.” He chuckled. “There wasn’t a brother free for you?”

“Nope, the Johnsons were fresh out of siblings.”

“Are you sad about that?”

“No, I don’t need to be fixed up. I’ll find my own man when I’m ready.” How had the conversation taken such a personal turn? It was too weird and very uncomfortable talking to her boss about finding a man to settle down with.

“So you’re not ready now?”

“No, I’m focused on establishing my career.”

“That’s commendable.”

She purposefully refocused his attention to the photo and concluded. “That’s my mother, father and Marcy and Damien’s parents.”

“And you.”

She smiled. “And me.”

“You have a nice-looking family.”

“Thank you.” She took the photo from him and replaced it on her desk. “I love them.”

“It shows when you talk about them.” As if sensing she was missing them, he changed the subject. “The wedding dress is beautiful. Who designed it?”

“I did,” she proudly proclaimed.

“You?” At her nod, he picked up the picture again. “It’s really lovely.”

“Thank you.

“What about the bridesmaids’ dresses?”

“Me again. I even made them.”

He whistled in admiration at her statement, and she felt ten feet tall.

“You sew, too?”

“Since I was nine.”

“That’s damned good work, Nicole.”

“Thank you again.” This was turning out to be a fabulous day. “I’m not used to so many compliments from you.”

“Get used to them,” he suggested.

He stood and walked away without another word, and Nicole shook her head in confusion. That man was a whirlwind of unpredictability.

He had certainly changed her opinion of him in record time. It seemed he could be both human and appealing when he wanted to. But she wasn’t sure which Alexander she preferred—the gruff one who set her teeth on the edge, or the likable one who she longed to get to know better—and not in a professional way.

* * *

Nicole left work at two and changed into faded jeans, a red “I Love NY” T-shirt, a denim jacket and sneakers. Monique had gone home to change and was meeting her at the hotel at three. Thankfully, the move wouldn’t involve any furniture, just clothes, though Nicole had a lot.

She hadn’t unpacked most of her bags, for which she was grateful. She stood in the middle of the sitting room, where she had gathered almost everything, and groaned at the rather large pile in front of her. A few bags were still in her hotel bedroom. Goodness, had she really packed this much stuff?

She was shaking her head in self-recrimination when someone knocked on her door. Expecting Monique, she opened the door and gasped in shock when she found Alexander and Victor dressed casually in jeans, T-shirts and light jackets.

“What are you two doing here?”

“We’ve come to make amends for our faux pas earlier.” Victor glanced at the pile of her belongings inside the room. “Looks like you can use our help.”

“You don’t have to help me move.” Nicole directed her words to the silent Alexander. “I’m sure you have better things to do with your day.”

“We want to.” Alexander finally spoke. “May we come in?”

“I’m sorry.” Nicole stepped aside to allow them in. “Come in.”

“Is this all that’s going?” Victor pointed to the stack of luggage piled on and beside the sofa.

“Most of it. There’s some more in my bedroom.”

“I’ll start on these. Alex, why don’t you see what’s in the bedroom?”

“All right.” Alex glanced at Nicole, who pointed the way and then quickly followed him, praying she didn’t have any unmentionables lying about. Thankfully, the coast was clear.

“I can manage this,” Alexander assured her after surveying the small stack of bags. “Why don’t you go and help Victor?”

“Are you sure? I can take...oh!”

She stumbled over a suitcase on the floor and wound up flying toward Alexander. He caught her effortlessly, strong arms automatically encircling her off-balance body. He held her tight against his unyielding strength.

All air left Nicole’s lungs, more from the close proximity to Alexander than from the impact of landing against his hard chest. Both appeared frozen in their unplanned yet potent embrace. Her palms rested flat against his broad chest cushioned by solid muscles. His hands rested on her waist. Their eyes locked, and each was aware that their mouths were only inches apart. A fact that became crystal clear when Alexander’s eyes darted to her slightly parted lips and stayed focused there as if mesmerized.

She held her breath while she waited to see what would happen next. She didn’t have to wait long. Unable to help himself, Alex lowered his mouth to hers. Their lips touched lightly several times before they both sought out much longer contact, and when they achieved it, time froze.

Their lips flirted, pressed lightly, pulled away. Alex’s teeth nibbled softly at her lower lip before sending his tongue to investigate the same territory. Nicole shuddered. Her arms snaked up his chest to rest into his hard shoulders as she moved and was pulled closer to his unbending length. She sighed and parted her lips invitingly, and her eyes fluttered close in anticipation of a deeper, more satisfying kiss.

“Nicole!” Victor shouted, splintering the intimate moment. “Monique is here.”

“I...I’ll be right out,” Nicole breathlessly replied, moving guiltily out of Alexander’s arms, placing fingers to her tingling lips. “Excuse me.”

“Of course.” Alex managed a slight smile as she skirted around him and out the bedroom door.

Oh, Lord, what had she done? She let out her breath on a noisy sigh. The chaste kisses they had shared didn’t begin to quench her disturbing desire for her boss, only managed to inflame it further. She didn’t know whether to be relieved or disappointed with Victor’s interruption, but she was certainly unfulfilled.

* * *

“Hi, roomie,” Monique greeted Nicole as she entered the room. “I see we have help.”

“Yes.” Nicole prayed she didn’t look as flustered as she felt. “Alexander is here, too. He’s in the bedroom.”

Monique grinned. “Is that where you’re coming from?”

“Yes.” Nicole pushed her bangs out of her eyes with somewhat shaky fingers.

“Why do you look so flushed?” Monique’s knowing grin caused Nicole to shift uncomfortably. “What was going on in there?”

“I... We...” Nicole floundered but thankfully Alexander entered, arms laden with luggage, and ushered Victor out the door. Nicole envied his composure.

“Hi, Monique.” Alex nodded as he passed by her.

“Hi, boss,” Monique greeted before refocusing on Nicole. “Is your lipstick smudged?”

“I...um...” Nicole absently touched her lips. “Must have happened as I packed.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Monique’s wide grin informed Nicole she wasn’t buying her lame explanation.

To avoid any further inquisition, Nicole grabbed a bag and hurried after the two men. Monique laughed, picked up a suitcase herself and followed her fellow movers out.

* * *

When they reached her new home a short while later, Nicole was pleased to realize Monique hadn’t exaggerated; the apartment was lovely and spacious. It was located in a picturesque part of the 6th Arrondisement and had shining hardwood floors and a myriad of windows and was decorated in brightly colored, comfortable furniture with lots of cushions. Nicole’s bedroom and bathroom was next to Monique’s. The living area was huge, and the kitchen was perfect. Nicole knew she would be very happy here.

It was about 5:15 p.m. when they finished moving Nicole in. Though she and Alexander didn’t mention their kiss, the remembrance of it hung between them like thick fog. Nicole was a nervous wreck every time he glanced at her and touched her—by mistake or on purpose, she wasn’t sure.

“Hey, is anyone else hungry?” Victor asked as they all lounged in the living room after the last bags had been unloaded.

“I am,” Monique answered from her perch on the arm of a chair.

“What about you two?” Victor smiled at Nicole and Alex, who purposefully sat a good distance apart on the sofa.

“I could eat,” Nicole slowly admitted and inwardly groaned at the prospect of having to spend more tension-filled time in Alexander’s maddening presence.

“Well, bro?” Victor stood and nudged Alex’s shoulder. “Are you with us?”

All eyes fixated on him, and his locked with Nicole’s uneasy ones.

“Sure.” Alex finally sighed. “But nothing fancy.”

“Dressed like this—” Victor glanced at their attire— “Casual is the way to go. How about the Latin Quarter?”

“Perfect.” Monique walked over to the sofa. “Excuse us girls while we freshen up.” She took Nicole’s hand and pulled her up from the sofa and out of the room. Once they were alone in her bedroom, she turned to Nicole. “What’s wrong? You look shell-shocked.”

“Nothing’s wrong.”

“Are you nervous about going out with the boss?” Monique correctly surmised.

“No.” At Monique’s skeptical stare, she confessed, “Okay, yes. What am I supposed to say to him?”