Pink Satin Page 14

  “Tell me,” he said quietly.

  “Tell you what?” Greer folded her arms across her chest, moving a little away from him on stocking feet. She smiled. Happily. “Dinner was terrific. I’m sorry I was such bad company. Perhaps in the morning…”

  “Tell me what you’ve been afraid of. I can make it go away, Greer. In fact, I’m the only man who can make it go away. And all you have to do is ask me.”

  “Look,” she said firmly. He took a step forward; she couldn’t help herself from taking a step back. He smiled.

  This was Ray, she tried to tell herself. A man she knew well. A man she saw and worked with every day.

  “There was a man in the office the other day.” Ray’s voice was soothing, low, hypnotic. “He’s not for you, Greer. All this time, I’ve pictured you with men. But not him. You think he could stop what you’re afraid of? You think he could protect you from anything? All this time, have you once looked at me?”

  “I want you to go,” Greer whispered. “Please, Ray.” He took another step forward. “Actually, I’ve regained all my energy,” she said brightly. Her voice cracked, and she tried again. “I think I’ll just go downstairs and-”

  He was close to her now. His hands reached out to grab her shoulders, and Greer froze, her arms still tightly wrapped around her chest.

  “Look,” she said. “I’m in love with someone else-”

  He paid no attention. In slow motion, his face seemed to come toward hers, dark eyes gleaming, dry lips parted. His mouth suddenly groped for hers, and the texture of it felt strange, startling, alien. It was a simple pass. Greer had coped a thousand times with simple passes, but for some unknown reason, this time she was terrified, her body locked in shock.

  “Please,” she whispered.

  “You’re not afraid with my arms around you, are you, Greer? I would never, never hurt you…”

  His mouth lowered again. She turned her head. His body was trying to press against hers. There wasn’t that much he could do with the barrier of her arms, but she still felt the contact of her breasts against his white shirt. And that contact brought a low gush of breath from Ray, and nausea for Greer.

  “Ray. Look,” she said shakily, “maybe you’ve had too much wine. We’ll forget this, okay? I understand. Only please, just-”

  “Just relax,” he whispered. “Just relax, Greer. Let it happen. So naturally, it will happen. All this time…”

  She turned her head, and his lips landed on her throat. Greer jerked convulsively, her arms whipping out like flaying fan blades. “Don’t. Just get out of here. No.”

  His arms tightened around her like cold bars. A rush of impressions exploded in her head. His hand on her breast, his black eyes with a devil’s light, the terrible silence of the room, their isolation, rage, fear, vulnerability, the single burning lamp on the table near the bed.

  She twisted free, hearing her own frantic breath.

  “The door is locked,” he said gently. “Relax,” he murmured. “You think I would hurt you? Never, Greer. I can take away what you’re afraid of. I’m the only man who can make it completely go away.”

  He kept talking about that. What she was afraid of. If that was supposed to make sense, it didn’t. The only thing she was terrified of was him. “Ray. You know me. We’ve worked together for a long time.” Greer swallowed again, as he took another step toward her. “You’re an attractive man, but I don’t want this kind of-please. I’m sure you’ll find someone else…”

  A low, shivery laugh. Greer darted for the door. His hand slammed against the wood even as she was fighting with the lock. She managed to release the chain, but couldn’t reach the knob.

  There was a sick scream in the back of her throat, trying to get out, but she remained silent. How could she scream? This couldn’t be happening to her. It really couldn’t. Maybe if she’d invited it…but she knew she hadn’t invited it. She knew she’d in no way encouraged Ray. As an adolescent, she’d blamed herself for inviting the gropes and grabs that had scared her witless, believing she must have unconsciously asked for trouble. Then during her entire adult life, she’d protected herself by denying every damn possible sexual feeling-and she hadn’t invited Ray.

  His hands were suddenly everywhere, grabbing at her blouse, groping for her skirt. Greer felt a rage suddenly explode inside her. A rage almost as old as she was. It wasn’t her. It was him. Dammit. Had he felt this way about her all along?

  His voice rasped in a low, heavy bass. “You like it a little rough, do you, darling?”

  Her knee failed. Her fist didn’t.

  He jerked back, bent suddenly double; a hoarse cry of pain escaped from his mouth.

  Greer opened the door, and backed away. “Get out. Now.”

  Chapter Eleven

  The minute Ray was gone, Greer pushed the lock button and then fumbled frantically to hook the chain. The room was so silent that she should have felt relieved. Instead, her limbs started trembling as if she’d just been tossed into the Arctic Ocean.

  She couldn’t get warm. She ran her hands up and down her arms; it didn’t help. Her teeth were actually chattering. She walked to the bathroom, turned on the hot water and splashed some on her face. He’s gone, the voice in her head assured her. She was safe.

  Only her heart couldn’t seem to stop pounding, and when she turned off the water, her white face stared back at her from the mirror. She winced, seeing the top button gone from her blouse, her skirt askew, the sick glaze in her dark eyes.

  She turned away from the mirror, hurrying out of the blouse and her skirt, bundling them both up in her hands. A moment later, she was under the pelting spray of the shower, turned on as hot as her skin could take it. It warmed her up, but when she stepped out, she grew cold again.

  She’d brought a cotton robe with her to the conference, and after she wrapped that around her, she dragged the blanket from the bed, draped it over her shoulders and curled up in the chair. If there was a thought in her head, she couldn’t bring it into focus. If she could just get warm… She doubted she would ever be warm again. It seemed the only thing that mattered.

  When she heard a quiet knock on the door, her whole body went rigid.

  Another knock.

  When she didn’t answer, Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Greer. It’s Ryan, and I know you’re in there. Open the door.”

  “Ryan?”

  He waited, an endless period of time. He was pushing his hand through his hair for the dozenth time in the past three hours when the door finally opened.

  He’d never seen such a fragile smile in his life. Her hair was damp and had the look of having been rapidly finger-combed. She was wearing a pink cotton robe that buttoned to the neck. Her face was pasty white, with twin spots of color in her cheeks, and he didn’t wait to see any more.

  He bolted inside, slammed the door behind him and gathered her immediately in his arms. She was tense and cold, and suddenly her whole body was shuddering.

  “I could hardly believe-what on earth are you doing here? How did you even know where I was? And why-”

  “Hush, honey.” Her violent shuddering tore at his heart. His palm cradled her head, pushing her cheek to his shoulder. His other hand gently caressed her shoulders and back, kneading, massaging those terribly tense muscles. Finally, some of that shaking stopped, and she lay quiescent against him.

  “Greer.” His voice was quiet and infinitely tender, but there was unquestionably a demand for an answer in his low, vibrant tone. “Did he scare you? Or…hurt you?”

  “No, nothing like that. I…” Greer lifted her head to stare at Ryan. If she could just stop feeling so terribly disoriented… Ryan looked exhausted. Taut furrows of strain aged his features; lines seemed embedded on his face that hadn’t existed days before. His striped shirt was wrinkled; he was wearing suit pants but no coat. He was beautiful. And she was so desperately glad to see him that she could hardly think of anything else. Confusion suddenly darkened her eyes. “You’re over the flu
? I was so worried.”

  A fleeting look of surprise and almost humor touched his eyes and then his eyes skimmed past her and around the room. His jaw clenched when he saw the covered dinner cart, and his arms first tightened, then soothed. She felt the gentle sweep of his hand, pushing back her hair, combing through it. “Would you mind not worrying about me for the moment?” he murmured.

  He planted a single kiss on her mouth. A firm kiss, which seemed to bring a troubled world back into focus again. And when he lifted his head, she found herself inches away from clear blue eyes, blue like ice, blue like fire. “You knew!” she whispered suddenly. “When you just asked me if I was scared, I…how could you possibly have any idea what just happened?”

  “I’ll explain everything in a little bit. Just tell me what did happen first.”

  He didn’t let her go. He moved her determinedly away from the door, but he kept an arm around her shoulder, and he paused more than once to press his lips on her forehead, her neck, anywhere he could reach. His hands went to her waist, lifting her.

  She’d thrown the blanket on the bed. He took it, covering her even as he half carried, half propelled her down onto the pillows. He reached down to push off his shoes, and then came to her.

  “I was so frightened…” Her voice seemed to be coming from miles away.

  “Yes.” He wound his arms around her and just held her. If he could have wrapped her up in his body, he would have. She’d stopped trembling, and there were suddenly tears.

  “I have never in my entire life behaved like such a fool.”

  He didn’t contradict her. He didn’t do anything to stop the tears or to still the suddenly frantic rush of words. He slid his arm under her waist, covered her again with the blanket and lay down next to her.

  “You don’t understand,” she said frantically.

  “Tell me.”

  “We were getting along so well. We never had. I thought if I tried to be more understanding-and it was working. I mean, he made sexual remarks all the time, but I never paid any attention. He knew I wasn’t interested in him; he had to know.” Images flooded her mind and then receded. “I don’t see how he could possibly have misinterpreted anything I’d said or done.”

  “Greer…”

  “No. It must have been my fault.”

  “It was not your fault,” he said emphatically.

  “It was. So stupid,” she said incoherently. “From the time I was a kid…you can’t possibly understand. I just hated it. I grew up faster than the other girls; they all resented me, but the boys started getting interested in me. Dammit, that’s where it all became so confused, and it wasn’t something I could talk about with anyone. I didn’t want all that attention just because I filled out a bathing suit.” She looked at Ryan fiercely, through blurred eyes.

  His thumb gently brushed away that film of tears.

  “I figured it was my fault,” she said softly.

  “Nothing,” he repeated, “was your fault.”

  “I figured I’d invited it. So I stopped…feeling. It was supposed to be a protection, only it didn’t protect me at all. I swear I never felt anything for Ray.”

  “I know that, love,” Ryan murmured.

  “This evening,” she said. “You can’t possibly know how I felt. It seemed as if something inside me snapped when he grabbed me. I don’t know how to explain. He didn’t hurt me. He didn’t even touch me intimately. But after blaming myself for so long, I realized suddenly that I wasn’t responsible. Except for pretending Ray wasn’t a problem. I’d pretended that as long as I didn’t feel anything, I was safe. If I’d just opened my eyes, I might have seen what was coming…”

  He grasped the essence of her pain. It took a long time, because she wasn’t talking coherently and because the source of her pain had never been clear to him before. It wasn’t just Ray she was talking about, but herself and the whole gamut of pent-up feelings she’d experienced: She resented being desirable. She’d run an emotional gauntlet all her life because she was sexually attractive to men who were too insensitive to care about her as a person. She’d felt she had to separate love from sexual feelings.

  For the first time in his life, he felt helpless. He’d taken off from work for the past few days, using the excuse of flu, but the virus hadn’t actually kept him in bed. He’d been a busy man. He’d been determined to find out the identity of her caller, and he’d accomplished exactly what he’d set out to do, but the only thing that mattered now was Greer. He had to be careful; in no way must he hurt her more.

  He listened awhile longer and then leaned over her to switch out the light. Her voice had faded to an exhausted murmur, dropping off completely when darkness covered them. No matter how tired she was, he knew she wasn’t even close to sleeping. He could feel the tension in her body even through the covering blanket. And his eyes didn’t have to adjust for him to find her mouth in the darkness.

  His lips pressed gently, insistently, on hers. His tongue stole between her teeth, filling the moist hollow of her mouth, infusing her with his taste, his warmth, his love for her. His hands swept along her back, outside the blanket that covered her, and he could feel her whole body suddenly grow still.

  “Ryan-”

  “You don’t want this,” he murmured, guessing her words before she said them.

  “I just…”

  “Want to know something, love?”

  He raised himself up on an elbow, releasing the buttons of his shirt as he looked down at her. Greer could barely see him in the shadows, but she had a fleeting feeling that he’d catch her if she tried to run. “What?”

  “I want to hold you more than I want to make love to you. Now, that hasn’t happened often since I met you,” he whispered wryly, but there was no smile on his mouth. Just those bright eyes of his burning on hers in the dark. “But we’re going to have to make love, Greer. Not for me, love. In fact, I think we’ll just forget all about what I want or need. This one’s all for you, and you need to understand that ahead of time.”

  “Ryan-”

  “You are beautiful, Greer. Your feelings are beautiful, too, and it’s time you believed that. Actually, it’s a perfect time, because you’re absolutely sure you’ll feel nothing, aren’t you? You aren’t in the mood; you’ve been frightened to death; and maybe you’d even like to curl up in a corner, honey, but that’s not the way.”

  His shirt dropped to the floor in a gentle whoosh. His belt followed. Greer swallowed. “That’s just it,” she said hesitantly. “I really…not now, I-”

  He pushed aside the blanket and drew her to him. Blood pulsed in the vein in her throat, in her temples. He was bare from the golden slope of his shoulders to the iron wall of his chest. The room was not so dark now. Her eyes had adjusted, and faint city lights glowed through the windows, illuminating the distinctive shape of a man looming over her.

  A very determined man. A few hours earlier, another very determined man had tried to hurt her, but the association was entirely different. This was Ryan. There could never be a comparison. She felt weak inside, unable to stop him or even try, yet suddenly a thousand times more vulnerable than she’d ever felt with Ray or any other man. Ryan’s chest with its mat of hair pressed against her as he leaned closer, his mouth claiming hers, stealing her breath, stealing her will to think.

  At first her lips only reluctantly returned the pressure, and then, suddenly, fiercely molded themselves to his, her throat arched back to ensure that the bond wasn’t broken. When he heard the sudden, uneven rhythm of her breathing, he slowly raised his head. His eyes searched hers. Without looking down, he gently undid the buttons of her robe, from her throat down to her thighs. Just as gently, his hands parted the material. She felt air on her breasts, an awareness of her nakedness, a catch somewhere deep inside her.

  Finally, his eyes released their hold on hers and skimmed slowly over her dusk-tipped breasts, the hollow between, the satiny flatness of her stomach. When she raised a hand to cover herself, he held
that hand and drew it back to her side.

  “You’re exquisite,” he whispered.

  She flushed.

  “And that’s all we’re going to do, honey. Teach you what a beautiful body you have and how beautiful your feelings for me are. No one’s going to use you, Greer. Do you know what I want you to do?”

  “Ryan-”

  “Do you know what I want you to do?” he demanded.

  “What?”

  “Lie there. That’s all. You can think about every damn man who’s tried to use you, if you want to. You can repress every sexual feeling you’ve ever had. And it’s still going to happen, love.”

  He was so serious-and then not. His sudden smile distracted her. She wasn’t expecting…play. He was most insistent on teaching her that play was part of loving. She couldn’t anticipate where he was going to touch next. One moment his lips were tugging at her breasts, his tongue swirling her nipples into swollen arousal. The next moment he was trailing kisses up and down her thigh, and then he moved up, as if he’d completely forgotten the hollow spot in her neck and was making amends.

  He turned her over. He kissed her ankle, the back of her knee, the soft flesh of her thigh. He nipped at her bottom, and his tongue laved a long trail up her vertebrae. When he shifted her to face him after that, he was more than content to discover her body was becoming Silly Putty for him. That she sounded breathless as well was its own reward.

  It seemed a good time simply to kiss her senseless. She murmured something against his mouth, but he didn’t pay any attention. Her limbs were trying to wrap themselves around his; that was message enough.

  He took a moment to remove the rest of his clothes, and when he lay back down on the bed he didn’t touch her at all but just looked at her, from the crown of her head to the tips of her toes. Moonlight turned her ripe curves to silver, and her eyes looked as soft as lake water. So vulnerable. “Listen,” she murmured. “I’m not sure. I warned you, I…”