Undressed by the King

NICOLETTE

When Bernard forwarded me the email for the job, I was immediately impressed when I saw who it was from. Ford Banner, one of the highest-profile art dealers in the country.

I had never met him personally, but everyone knew he didn’t deal with anything less than the rarest and most exotic artifacts.

The email had no information about the object itself, only a place, date, and time to meet. Tonight at seven o’clock in the Suite Restaurant, conveniently located in the lobby of my own apartment building.

Huh. Does he know where I live? If so, it must be important if he’s willing to come to me.

“Let’s see what this artifact is all about, then,” I murmured to myself, confirming the appointment.

Not only was I glad to have a job for tonight, but it also meant I could get a certain arrogant billionaire off my mind, if only for an hour.

***

Come nightfall, I was dressed in a beige pencil skirt and a white V-neck top. To add a touch of professionalism to the eye-catching lift of my chest, I added a fitted blazer.

With my four-inch heels clicking against the marble floors, I strode toward the elevator and hesitated when the doors opened, checking carefully before entering. This had become my habit.

The elevator had floor-to-ceiling mirrors all around, and I’d been extra cautious around any reflective surface. I took careful consideration that my body wouldn’t touch any of the walls. I knew it was silly, but…just in case.

Thoughts of the mirror would fade with time, and with a new job on the horizon, hopefully that time will pass faster. There’s still the problem of the icy-eyed Darien Ozric, though. But first things first.

The elevator pinged and I smiled, stepping out into the luxurious lobby, then turning to the restaurant that was only for residents and their guests. I immediately spotted Mr. Banner.

He was sitting at the bar, wearing a black trench coat and a fedora hat, sipping something on the rocks.

When he saw me approach, he quickly stood up and righted his coat. “Ms. Nicolette Holland?” he asked, putting a hand in between us.

I took it and smiled. “Mr. Banner.”

He pulled the leather suitcase from the stool beside him. “Shall we? My client is waiting.”

I looked around the bar. It was mostly empty, besides the waitstaff. “Where?”

“Upstairs.”

“Here? In this building?”

A barely perceptible smile formed at the corner of his lip. “Yes. Top floor.”

Top. Floor? I’d heard that the owner of this building lived there, but I’d never met my landlord.

“Follow me.” He started walking toward an elevator I’d never used, and it was clear he wasn’t going to say more. He clearly hadn’t earned his reputation by making small talk or exchanging pleasantries.

When we entered the elevator, Mr. Banner inserted a key and pressed the button for the nineteenth floor. The penthouse suite. I stood in the middle of the elevator, more unable to relax with this intense man beside me.

When the elevator finally pinged, it opened into a small vestibule with only one door.

“Um, is there anything I need to know before I see the artifact, Mr. Banner?” I asked as we stepped out. “Some information on how your client came to possess said item?” I pressed.

He looked at me and shook his head. “My client is very private when it comes to his possessions, Ms. Holland.” He pressed a security code into the pad on the left side of the door.

Ah, so the client is a man.

The door opened with a soft click. “Come in. I’ll take you to the artifact and leave you from there. My client will be with you in a moment.”

I nodded.

The owner’s suite was as grand as I’d expected. Hedonia Apartments and Suites had always boasted quality and elegance in all their units, but the penthouse took the cake. It looked straight out of a hotel magazine, glass walls on all sides giving a 360-degree view of the city.

At the far end of the room, in front of a glass window with a view of skyscrapers, was a tall object covered by a sheet. Two spotlights from the ceiling illuminated it, giving it a mysterious look.

True to his word, Mr. Banner guided me closer, and I grew excited to see what it would be. For an archeologist like me, it felt like Christmas.

I reached out and gently pulled the sheet away. My excitement quickly turned to horror.

The mirror.

My hands went clammy and my knees grew weak. How? This wasn’t supposed to be for sale. It was still my property. Professor Mallorie promised it would stay at the museum.

This can’t be here. Unless…

“Do you like my latest purchase, Ms. Holland?”

Fuck. I should have known.

Mr. Darien Ozric wore a triumphant smile, like a schoolyard bully who just stole my lunch money.

I eyed the door. I had to leave. Mr. Banner was nowhere to be seen. It was just me and him.

I moved to step past him, but I caught his gaze instead. Our eyes locked, and my muscles froze. I couldn’t move.

What the—?

This wasn’t his usual steely gaze. There was power behind it. He had somehow turned me into a statue with one look from his violet orbs.

“I am sorry, Ms. Holland. But I just cannot let you leave until I know who you are.”

LUCIEN

I felt a sting of guilt as the expression on her face shifted from confusion and shock to full-blown anger.

I didn’t want to use my powers to keep her immobile. Hell, I didn’t like using my powers in this world at all. And most women wouldn’t require supernatural persuasion—they would happily tell me anything—but this woman was different.

So much about her didn’t make sense, like how she’d found her way into my world. But I needed answers from her, and I’d get them one way or another, so I let her speak.

“What do you want?” she said, fighting against my paralyzing hold.

I approached her slowly, hands in the pockets of my slacks. “Mr. Banner was not lying. I want you to tell me everything you know about this mirror.”

She shook her head. “If you think I’m going to do anything for you, then you’re wrong.” Her voice was full of rage.

“Ms. Holland, there was a reason why you got rid of the mirror. A reason you are going to tell me.”

She pursed her lips, and I could feel her continued struggle against my powers. She was stronger than I thought.

“Yes,” she said. “But you already know the reason. You don’t need me to say it. So let me go.”

“Fine. If that is what you really want.” I released my grasp on her. “But I know you will not leave. You are like me. You burn with curiosity. You have never been one to see something mysterious, unexplainable, and then turn away from it without having the answers.”

From the way she looked at me—and how she didn’t run away—I knew I was right. I have her now. “~You~ are my mysterious, unexplainable thing, Ms. Holland.”

She blushed.

“Let us start over.” I took a step back and turned to the side, giving her a clear view to my dining table. “Have dinner with me. We can talk through everything.”

She looked me over with a mix of curiosity and suspicion, like she was weighing my words against her own instincts. “Fine.”

I smiled and turned my back to her, walking to the already set table.

Her heels clicked as she followed.

***

The windows beside the dining area faced the west side of New York, showing giant billboards and the velvety night sky. The table could seat eight but was set for two.

I preferred candlelight, so I began lighting the numerous candles that filled the space.

“Er, this isn’t a date,” she needlessly pointed out.

“Yes, we have established that already.”

Her eyes followed me from candle to candle. “Then why are you lighting so many candles?”

I set the lighter down and took the seat at the head of the table. I looked at her and gave her an exasperated sigh. “Nicolette, I prefer that you use your mouth for something other than complaining. Have a seat and let us eat.”

I motioned to the table setting on my left.

She glared at me and clenched her jaw, but a moment later she gave in with a huff and sank into the chair.

I looked at her and smiled. In the candlelight, her beauty was overwhelming. The way the shadows played across her face, the light dancing in her eyes.

How can this be? The resemblance was striking. Identical. Nicolette looked exactly like her. The woman from my past. The only woman I’d ever loved. My desime.