Pink Satin Page 6

  She returned to her work and barely lifted her head again until five. The ad copy was done, and sales figures took the rest of the afternoon. She’d started a study months before on colors related to sales in lingerie. Women assumed men considered black and red sexy, and yet the men who bought lingerie for their wives invariably picked out white. Pastels appeared to confuse men so that they had difficulty choosing, but women always had a favorite soft color they adopted for their own. Putting that all together and making recommendations to Grant was part of Greer’s job.

  By the time she’d cleared her desk and grabbed her raincoat and purse, she’d almost convinced herself she’d forgotten the negligee. She hesitated and then pushed open the cardboard box, fingering the delicate satin and lace wistfully.

  How many studies had she done on lingerie in the past five years? And all of them had led to the same conclusion: Women bought beautiful lingerie to make a statement for them: Hold me, warm me, I need to be touched. A woman had a secret wish to be pampered, a wish that she couldn’t say out loud and that she didn’t want to say out loud.

  The negligee would have been all wrong for the cover of Love Lace, but not for reasons Greer could have explained to the men. The pink satin whispered, I am a strong sexual woman, and I don’t mind singing it from the rooftops. Wearing this negligee would require confidence. Confidence in one’s own sexuality, confidence and enough courage to flaunt one’s sexuality, to entice, to boldly seduce. Few women had that kind of confidence.

  Or is it you, Greer? she thought absently. Maybe you were expressing your own insecurities when you rejected that design for the catalog cover. Maybe other women feel perfectly free to play the aggressor in a sexual relationship. This is hardly the nineteenth century…maybe the problem lies in you.

  She closed the box, slid it under her arm and picked up her purse again. She would tuck the negligee away in a drawer at home. She took it anyway.

  Ryan’s embrace had preyed on her mind all day. His neighborly embrace. The man disturbed her. Cream lace on pink satin disturbed her.

  Going home to clean out the cat’s litter box was the best method she knew of clearing the mind of disturbing fancies.

  Following that, she had a date with Daniel. Come to think of it, Ryan had been listening when she’d made that date, the first night she’d met her neighbor.

  Greer banished Ryan from her mind. Thinking about Daniel was safer. Daniel was a sweetie. And Daniel wouldn’t arouse pink-satin daydreams in anyone’s mind.

  Chapter Five

  The bra felt just a smidgen tight around her left breast. Greer sucked in her ribs on an inhale, and twisted on the exhale. It helped. Peering at her reflection in her dresser mirror, she was relieved to see that the lopsided fit of the bra didn’t show. Her dress was a sheath of royal blue with a mandarin collar and gold embroidery from neckline to hem in back. The Chinese style made her figure look almost petite. Beneath the dress, she was wearing a violet half-slip and a new bra that was one of Marie’s best-selling designs-except for this particular castoff. The seamstress had made one cup slightly smaller than the other.

  If she’d guessed ahead of time how strangely it would fit, she would have changed bras. Unfortunately, she could already hear Daniel’s knock. She picked up her glasses. As expected, when she opened the door, Daniel was wearing his. Though she rarely wore her glasses except for driving, she knew Daniel felt more comfortable when she had them on.

  “I’m sorry I’m late, Greer. Really sorry. My boss did it to me again-just at five, he came in with a mound of work…”

  Daniel was blond, tall and lanky, and he had trouble deciding what to do with his long arms when he was nervous. Greer gave him a quick hello kiss, then rushed into the kitchen to fill Truce’s dish before leaving. “I’ve told you before, you know,” she called back gently. “Nothing’s going to happen if you simply tell him you’ll do the work first thing in the morning, Daniel. He’s not going to fire you; you’re too good at what you do. You’ve got the right to say no when he makes unreasonable demands.”

  By the time she returned to the living room, Daniel was running a hand through his hair. “I try.”

  “I know you do.” She smiled reassuringly at him.

  “You’re not irritated that I’m late?”

  “Of course I’m not irritated.”

  Tucking her key in her purse, she opened the apartment door, still chattering to Daniel…until she saw the slim, svelte blonde coming out of Ryan’s apartment.

  The woman was pretty. Not beautiful, not voluptuous, not overly made up, just…pretty. And she was one of those small-breasted women who could wear anything. In this case a loose silky dress draped from shoulder to hip and caught casually at the waist with a double belt. The style would have made Greer look like a hooker. On the blonde, it was casual, attractive and stylish.

  She was laughing.

  So was Ryan, just behind her. His chest wasn’t naked today, but clothed in crisp white linen and a tie, which he fussed with until he noticed Greer.

  “…anyway, Ry, I appreciate your getting me out of a bind this evening,” the blonde was saying.

  “I thought-that is, if you wanted to, Greer, we could go to Lombardi’s,” Daniel suggested.

  Why was Ryan tying that tie as if he were just getting dressed? Jealousy pierced Greer as if she’d just walked barefoot over a bed of nails.

  Ryan took one long look at Daniel and felt every muscle stiffen. Endearing. The dude had that endearing look women loved, and he had a tiny glaze of lip gloss on his cheek. Fresh. Greer looked edible in royal blue to the neck, the soft fabric draped subtly over her figure in a way that hinted at luscious mysteries. Her hair was sleeked back, giving her an air of sophistication, showing off her profile. He hadn’t seen her wearing glasses before and immediately took a dislike to them. The oversized frames did not detract from her looks, but they hid the expression in her eyes. All he could see were huge brown mirrors, reflecting back, giving nothing away.

  “Lombardi’s?” Ryan said smoothly. “We’re going there, too.”

  Daniel’s head whipped around to stare at Ryan in surprise, and he found himself facing Ryan’s outstretched hand. “Ryan McCullough here. Greer’s neighbor. I just heard you mention Lombardi’s. We’ll probably see you at the restaurant.”

  Ryan’s blonde looked momentarily disconcerted, and then chuckled, a low, musical sound. “Ry, I thought you said-not that it matters.”

  After shaking Daniel’s hand, Ryan stepped back with a hand at his date’s back. “This is Leigh Neuman. Laughlin’s personnel manager. She has the unenviable job of wining and dining new employees. Like me, poor woman.”

  “Nice to meet you, Leigh,” Daniel said politely.

  “Leigh-Greer-” In the middle of that introduction, Ryan snapped his fingers. “If we’re all going to the same restaurant, we may as well share the drive. It’s a little distance, isn’t it?” He added quickly, “Not, of course, that I would want to interrupt a private dinner.”

  Daniel had a stricken look that Greer knew signified a bad attack of insecurity around strangers. “Well…” he started nervously.

  “I understand it’s nearly a half-hour drive. I haven’t been there before, and I was a little worried about getting lost. My car’s right outside, if you’re familiar with the directions, Dan? We can always separate when we get there, if you like.”

  They didn’t separate at the restaurant. By the time the four of them had piled into a booth, they were all chattering away like long-lost friends. Daniel was talking to Ryan as if he’d never had a malefriend he could share interests with before, and Leigh was bubbling on to Greer about her fiancé and about how Ryan had been kind enough to switch their arranged business dinner on the spur of the moment so she wouldn’t miss a date with her fiancé on the following Thursday.

  “It’s foolish, the company policy of taking new people out to dinner. With Ryan, of course I don’t mind, but I’ve gotten into some fair pickles in
the past, trying to make conversation with a few stuffed shirts who couldn’t figure out what they were doing in the company of a strange woman. It’s supposed to be a welcome to the company, but right now it just doesn’t make sense. The new building’s not completed; we’ve got tons of new people running around; and Norm doesn’t appreciate my spending half my evenings with strange men…”

  “I can understand that,” Greer said. Leigh was all bubbles and laughter, impossible not to like.

  Why Lombardi’s served Chinese food, no one could figure out. The atmosphere was strictly Italian, with a foaming fountain in the center of the restaurant, candles on the tables and a trio of musicians in one corner trying to coax people to the dance floor with everything from polkas to rock.

  The four of them drank rice wine and ate egg rolls until the entrées were served, and then dishes and arms rapidly crossed as they sampled each other’s dinners. It was only when Greer was perfectly stuffed and had slipped off her shoes under the table that she realized she was sitting next to Ryan. She was also sitting next to Daniel, of course, but they were in a semicircular booth, and she really didn’t remember Ryan climbing in next to her. Nor did she know exactly why his thigh happened to be touching hers.

  Particularly when Daniel was a polite six inches away, his face flushed with wine. It took a great deal for Daniel to shed his inhibitions and join a gathering of strangers, and Ryan had made that happen.

  Ryan. Her friendly neighbor. The only one at the table who had miraculously avoided conversation with her for the past two hours. He’d talked to Daniel and he’d talked to Leigh, just not directly to Greer. After the waitress served an after-dinner saki, Ryan turned to his date.

  “That trio’s going to get depressed if someone doesn’t take up a little space on their dance floor,” he told her.

  Leigh laughed. “No problem.”

  The dance number was slow. Daniel looked uncertainly at Greer, and she almost sighed. Most of the time Daniel’s shy ways were appealing. “Let’s,” she agreed, and they followed the others to the dance floor.

  Actually, Daniel was an excellent dancer. Like other introverted people, he came into his own when not threatened with a verbal situation. He’d learned to dance properly, one hand at her waist, the other holding hers loosely-which didn’t distract in any way from his rhythmic skill. “He’s nice, your neighbor,” Daniel said quietly.

  “Yes.”

  “I rarely feel that comfortable with people on a first meeting, but then most people don’t seem that interested in accounting systems.”

  “Yes,” she echoed.

  “I’m glad we came with them.” Daniel’s face took on an immediate soft flush, as if aware he might have said something tactless. “Not that I wouldn’t have preferred an evening alone with you-”

  Greer was running out of patience. Daniel’s palm was getting damp, annoying her. The left cup of her bra was also annoying her. Having a totally pleasant dinner was, for some unknown reason, also annoying her. She had removed her glasses at the table-she didn’t need them for the dance floor. But she couldn’t see over Daniel’s shoulder to Ryan and Leigh.

  The number ended and an old-fashioned fox-trot began. Daniel smiled, automatically changing rhythms, when Ryan touched his shoulder.

  “You don’t mind if we switch for a dance, do you?” Ryan asked. “I can see you know what you’re doing on the floor, and I thought I’d give Leigh a break.”

  Which really wasn’t very flattering, Greer thought vaguely, but Daniel was already steering Leigh around the floor. She caught a quick glimpse of Ryan’s face before his arms came around her, but the dance floor was dark, and she could have misread that innocent expression.

  A minute and a half into the dance, and she knew the devil should be so innocent. She also figured out rapidly that Ryan had never learned to dance the fox-trot and that his feet were size twenty. Actually, she was fairly amazed at his clumsiness.

  Not that he didn’t compensate for his lack of expertise, and promptly. Very slowly, he slid his arms around her waist, which would have left her own waving in midair unless she put them around his neck. Just as slowly, he pulled her close and started shuffling. The combo was playing another fox-trot. Ryan was playing love songs. Lazily erotic love songs.

  His muscled thigh nudged between her legs and simply moved back and forth in a rhythm that was slow, erotic and intimate. Deliberately intimate. Greer was strongly inclined to take him over her knee and certainly wished his mother had done so when he was younger, but for at least a few moments she couldn’t do much of anything. Rippling, sultry waves of desire were clogging her brain. The mold of hip to hip was bad enough, but he kept…rubbing. In rhythm. A primal mating rhythm. And his hands started making slow-moving circles somewhere low on her spine. Very low on her spine.

  Daniel and Leigh seemed to be on the other side of the dance floor.

  Greer’s throat was suddenly dry. “Ryan.” She tried to lift her head. His palm gently pushed her cheek back to his chest. Her eyes were on a level with the shadowed length of his throat. She could see the beat of blood in the veins just below that smooth flesh.

  “Sssh, Greer.” Then he whispered with counterfeit nervousness, “For heaven’s sakes, don’t move. I don’t know how to do this kind of dance, and I don’t want to step on your feet.”

  “Ryan.”

  “Hmm?”

  She whispered close to his ear, “I can be made a fool of once. Maybe even twice. But if you’re trying to pass this off as more neighborly affection, I just wanted to warn you up front that you’re very close to a kick in the shins.”

  His eyes glittered down at her, full-of-nonsense blue. Dangerous blue. “Now, Greer. Don’t tell me simple affection isn’t possible between two people of opposite sex. Isn’t that what you were trying to tell me the night we met?”

  “This is not the same thing.”

  “Maybe not for you, but I’m feeling extremely affectionate right now. And since the song just ended, I’d appreciate it if you’d stick around for another. Walking back to the table in this particular physical condition wouldn’t bother me, but I’m afraid it might be obvious to your Daniel.” He shook his head gravely. “He might get the wrong impression. That I want you like hell, for instance.”

  Greer flushed, tried to pull away but failed to escape from arms that suddenly held her with gentle but unmistakable firmness. “What are you trying to do to me?” she asked helplessly.

  “Wake you up, love.” He said it so low he was almost certain she hadn’t heard it. She was fighting hard to keep her body a distance from his. So hard.

  Ryan had felt a moment’s guilt where her Daniel was concerned, but not too much. He’d watched the two interact over dinner long enough to be certain he wasn’t poaching on another man’s territory, and long enough to evaluate Daniel as an intelligent man, not bad-looking and not unkind. But physically, he clearly stirred Greer about as much as used dishwater. Ryan wasn’t stealing anything that belonged to anyone else.

  Greer’s heart, pressed against his shirt, seemed to be doing somersaults. Her nipples were hard and hot, and he could feel them through two layers of fabric-her clothes and his. She jumped every time his thigh touched just so between hers…and then she couldn’t jump, because he held her too close to give her the chance.

  If she’d seriously argued, he would have released her. Maybe. He wanted to believe that a speck of honor was alive and well in him somewhere, but her closeness was having disastrous effects on his principles.

  And when she suddenly and totally relaxed, he doubted very much that he could ever let her go. Her body went supple and pliant in his arms; her cheek rested in the furrow at the base of his throat; her fingers slowly climbed above his shirt collar and into his hair and then stiffened, as if she’d suddenly become aware of what she was doing.

  “The dance is almost over,” he whispered casually. Tentatively, she relaxed again, as if reassured. He had the fleeting sensation of tam
ing a wild creature. So unwilling, so wary, yet her body had turned warm, meltingly warm. One finger again traveled up into his hair. Just one. Very slowly, he caressed the curves of her back, down again to her hips, and he heard her let her breath out in a rush. Gently, he pressed a butterfly kiss on her temple.

  She liked that. She murmured something. Not a word, more a helpless purr of pleasure. His hand roamed slowly up her side…and then-the devil made him do it- his thumb strayed to the underside of her breast. Her head jerked up instantly, her face flushed and her eyes sleepy with arousal, dark, almost wild.

  “We have to sit down,” she said frantically.

  He kept his voice calm, soothing. “Your Daniel’s nice.”

  “Ryan, I-”

  “And he’s certainly not your heavy breather. He couldn’t possibly have been making those phone calls.”

  She looked startled. “I knew that.”

  “I didn’t.” The dance was almost over; he knew she was determined to withdraw from him this time. “What the hell are you wearing?” he asked to divert her.

  She stiffened. “Pardon?”

  “Are you wired for sound?” He pressed her cheek back to his shoulder and continued to shuffle. “That kind of bra has to be uncomfortable. Why the hell do you wear it?”

  “I beg your-”

  “Now, Greer. We’re just neighbors. Friends. No need to be embarrassed around me. In fact, you were the first one to bring up the subject of underwear, weren’t you?”

  The dance wasn’t over, but Greer had had enough. She pulled away from him and made her way back to the table, her cheeks so hot they felt on fire.

  Daniel returned to the table equally flushed. Fifteen minutes later, they were driving home. The men talked the entire time, dialogue tossed from front seat to back, with Leigh occasionally joining in. Greer was far too unsettled to listen. Her body was sending out pre-flu messages, alternately hot and cold, oddly trembling. Only it wasn’t the flu season. And whatever had possessed her to respond to Ryan like that on the dance floor? She wasn’t certain whether she was embarrassed or ashamed of herself.