White Satin

  “Dany.”

  She paused, waiting.

  “I understand you better than anyone in this whole damn world.” His words vibrated with force. “And I never said I wanted to be your friend.”

  Chapter 2

  Dany closed the door behind her and leaned back against it for a long moment. Her heart was beating wildly, and fear, bewilderment, and an odd excitement were racing through her veins. That last, enigmatic statement couldn’t have meant what it sounded like. Anthony had never exhibited the slightest interest in her as anything but a protégée, a Galatea for his Pygmalion. No, it couldn’t be a sexual attraction that had made him behave so strangely tonight.

  But if it had been? The excitement and panic increased by giant proportions. She wouldn’t know how to cope with the type of sexual chemistry Anthony generated so effortlessly. Her feelings for him were so intense and confused, she couldn’t possibly sort them out. Admiration, hero worship, resentment, dependence. Love? Yes, that was there too. She’d loved Anthony all her life, and it had been a love that only fed the resentment. There couldn’t be any more hurtful or frustrating emotion on the face of the earth than loving Anthony Malik, with his leashed stillness and the veil of ice crystals he kept firmly between himself and the world.

  A sexual relationship with Anthony, Dany mused. Oh, Lord, it would destroy her. Ice could burn, and Anthony had the reputation for keeping his ladies very contented—for as long as he kept them. However, his passion for them always cooled.

  She wouldn’t be able to stand it if, with time, he grew bored and decided she wasn’t what he wanted after all. He might even decide to shut her out of his life entirely! She felt the panic rise up within her. She couldn’t imagine an existence without Anthony hovering in the background like a dark, enigmatic shadow. Strong, incisive, always in control. What would he be like if he lost that control? She felt her breasts tauten beneath her sweater and a strange ache begin between her thighs. Desire.

  No! Her relationship with Anthony was too complicated already. She hurried down the hall, her face flushed as if she had a fever. She’d felt that aching melting once before. Six years before, and it had gotten her thrown out of Eden. Anthony had seen it and had rejected her with his usual implacable decisiveness. She wouldn’t risk a second rejection.

  Pete Drissell was coming down the curving staircase as she snatched up her beige polo coat from the bench where she’d left it. “I’ve just taken your bags up to your room, Miss Alexander.”

  “Good,” she said absently as she shrugged into her coat. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you again, Pete, but I wonder if you’d drive me back to New York? I know it’s a long trip, but I’d really appreciate it. Something’s come up that I need to take care of.” It wasn’t a total falsehood; she had to banish this panic and emotional turmoil before she saw Anthony again. Her nerves were screaming with tension, and she knew she wouldn’t be able to sit across from him at the dinner table in a few hours without falling apart. She needed breathing space.

  There was surprise on the chauffeur’s face but his reply was impeccably courteous. “Certainly. No trouble at all. Shall I get one of your suitcases from your room?”

  She shook her head. “I’ll probably only be gone overnight. I’ll pick up something in New York if I need it.” She didn’t want to wait for anything. She just wanted to get away before she saw Anthony again, before she had to face something she wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to handle. She had to regain a portion of that serene poise Anthony had shattered and soothe the raw nerve endings that her own emotional upheaval had brought to the surface. She tied the belt of her polo coat, picked up her shoulder bag, and hurried out the front door, a puzzled Pete Drissell following close behind.

  * * *

  “Are you going to talk about it?” Jack Kowalt asked quietly as he filled her coffee cup from the carafe the waitress had just set on the red-checked tablecloth. His warm brown eyes were narrowed on her face. “Or am I going to be the polite dinner companion and ignore the fact that you’re upset as hell about something?”

  “You’re supposed to ignore it,” Dany said, forcing a smile. “After all, why spoil your record? You didn’t even bat an eyelash when I showed up on your doorstep and whisked you off to dinner.”

  “I was afraid you’d change your mind.” In the rawboned toughness of his face his crooked grin was boyishly appealing. “It’s not often that I see you display any signs of aggressiveness in our relationship. It’s very restful just to sit back and let a liberated woman make the moves.”

  “Is it?” She wrinkled her nose at him. “You may have to coach me a little in the role. I don’t know much about the liberation movement. I’m afraid I’ve always been too busy to pay much attention to it.”

  “So I understand.” He looked down at his coffee thoughtfully. “Before I got this assignment, I never realized how much dedication and work you skaters had to put into the sport. It boggles the mind. How long have you been at it?”

  “In competition since I was ten, but I started skating when I was four.” She added cream to her coffee and stirred it slowly, her dark eyes pensive. “There’s a large pond on the grounds at Briarcliff, and my parents used to invite their friends to skating parties in the winter. I used to sneak out of my room at night and watch them sometimes. I’d hide in the trees and sit for hours watching the tall, handsome men and pretty, graceful girls gliding around the pond as if they had wings.” She smiled, her face soft with memories. “It was all touched with magic. The moonlight turned the ice to glittering silver. There were tall wrought-iron torches on the banks, and they were mirrored on the surface, as if the flames were captured beneath the ice. The first time I saw Anthony, he reminded me of one of those torches. He was wearing a black sweater and jeans and he moved over the pond like a dark flame, spinning, attacking the ice.” She glanced up at him. “Have you ever seen Anthony skate?”

  “Once. When he won the gold at the Olympics. He’s very good.”

  “He’s more than that. He’s the most incredibly graceful skater I’ve ever watched. And the power and passion he brings to it are unbelievable. He’s absolutely superb, both technically and artistically.” She shook her head. “Of course, I didn’t realize that at the time. All I remember is wondering rather whimsically why he didn’t burn those other skaters as he brushed past them. He wasn’t like the rest of them at all. Everyone else was so happy. There was so much laughter. At other parties I’d seen, no one touched anyone else. Even when they were dancing they were alone somehow. But not when they were skating.” She shrugged helplessly. “It’s hard to explain.”

  “You’ve done very well,” he said gently. “So you learned to skate so you’d be able to join those parties?”

  She shook her head. “I knew they’d never let me do that.” Her lips twisted. “My parents believed children should be relegated to the nursery until they reached a civilized age. No, I only wanted to snatch a bit of that magic for myself. I nagged my nanny unmercifully until she saw that I was supplied with skates and lessons. She wasn’t any too pleased with the results, as I remember. She hated sitting on the bank in the freezing cold while I practiced. She couldn’t get me away from the ice once I’d started. It became an obsession with me.” She glanced up to meet his sympathetic eyes and gave her head a little shake as if to clear it. “It still is.”

  “You practice six or seven hours a day on the ice and then have two hours of ballet when you’ve finished that,” he said slowly. “I’ve seen you so tired, you could scarcely put one foot in front of the other, and yet you still kept on working. Is it worth it, Dany?”

  “Yes, it’s worth it,” she said, her tone very steady. “I’ve always known that. Why do you think I do it?”

  “I’ve sometimes wondered.” He took a sip of his coffee. “I thought perhaps it might be Malik.”

  She tensed. “You sound like those idiotic newspaper stories they’ve been writing about me for the past two years. Ever since I wo
n the World Championship, the columnists have been trying to read something diabolically Machiavellian into Anthony’s support and help in my career. He’s never pushed me into anything. He just very generously gave me the support I needed. If I’m being driven, it’s not by him but by my own ambition.”

  “Okay, okay,” he said soothingly, raising his hand. “I wasn’t maligning your guardian. I even admire him in a remote sort of way. It’s just that I thought he might be giving you a hard time after the competition yesterday.”

  “He scarcely mentioned it,” she said curtly. She didn’t want to think of that conversation in the library. She’d come to Jack to take comfort in his warm, easygoing friendliness. She’d thought it might ease the tension that was surging through her, and it had, for a little while. If she didn’t think about Anthony, she might be able to push that scene into the background for the rest of the evening. She smiled at Jack with determined cheerfulness. “Now, how about letting me practice my aggressive techniques by asking you to dance on that postage stamp of a floor?”

  It was almost midnight when they left the basement bistro. The winter wind was sharp and clean against her warm cheeks and a light snow was falling.

  Jack drew the collar of his suede jacket up around his throat and took her hand. “This snow wasn’t supposed to start until morning. It’s going to be hell getting a taxi. They always disappear into the great beyond at the first sign of bad weather.”

  “Your apartment building isn’t all that far. Why don’t we walk? I could use some fresh air.”

  “My apartment?” Jack’s brows lifted inquiringly. “Now that’s my kind of aggressiveness. You’re doing better all the time, Dany. You’re staying the night?”

  “No, I’m going to let you give me a cup of hot chocolate after our walk.” She tucked her arm through his and started off briskly. “Then I’m going to use your telephone to call around to find a hotel room and wait in comfort until a taxi appears from the great beyond to take me to said hotel.”

  “If you’re going to wait for that, you may stay the night after all.” He grinned down at her. “My bed is yours.” He winked. “Also my magnificent body, which sold for two million dollars when I turned pro. How can you turn down an offer like that? It’s just not good business sense.”

  “I was always lousy at business affairs. I leave that to the experts like Anthony.”

  The snow falling on his sandy hair blended into it and became invisible. Anthony’s hair was so sable-dark, snowflakes always appeared star-like in contrast, Dany thought. She bit her lip and deliberately forced the image out of her mind. She’d almost forgotten Anthony in the last few hours, and it was going to stay that way.

  As it turned out, it stayed that way only until they were half a block from Jack’s apartment building. The lights of a gray Mercedes parked across the street flicked on and the car made a screeching U-turn that was met by a riotous burst of honking from the other cars on the street. It glided to a smooth stop beside Dany, and the driver leaned over to fling open the passenger door.

  “Get in, Dany.” Anthony’s face was pale and taut under the Mercedes’ dome light, his eyes hard silver with anger. “As you can see, I’m holding up traffic. I’ve already gotten one ticket this evening waiting for you to show up. I don’t want another one.” His gaze moved to Jack with a glittering ferocity that caused the sportscaster’s face to cloud with bewilderment. “I’m sure you’ll understand why Dany has to cut the evening short, Kowalt. She’s under a strict training regimen and needs all the rest she can get.” His tone became silky. “You’re an ex-athlete yourself, so you know how the kind of activity you have in mind can sap the strength.”

  “Anthony!” Dany’s voice was indignant. “You have no right to say—”

  There was a loud honking from the van in back of the Mercedes and Anthony’s voice took on a steel-sharp edge. “Get in, Dany. Now.”

  She’d obviously have to if she didn’t want Anthony to cause a major traffic jam, she thought crossly. She squeezed Jack’s arm with swift affection before releasing it. “I’d better go,” she said. “I’ll give you a call tomorrow.” She slipped into the passenger seat of the Mercedes and slammed the door shut. “Let’s go. You’re going to have that van ramming you in a minute.”

  “It wouldn’t surprise me,” Anthony said as he coolly pulled away from the curb into the stream of traffic. “Anyone would have to be crazy to drive in New York in a snowstorm.”

  “Then why are you doing it?” she asked tightly. “Why are you here at all? I wasn’t running away from home like an irresponsible child. I would have been back at Briarcliff tomorrow.”

  “I wasn’t concerned about tomorrow.” He darted her a glance that was colder than the snow blowing against the windshield. “I didn’t want you spending the night in Kowalt’s bed.”

  “I’ll spend my nights anywhere I please,” she said crisply. “I won’t account to you for anything but my professional life, Anthony. I thought I’d made that clear.”

  “Evidently I didn’t make myself equally clear,” he said. “But I intend to. Before this night’s through, you’re going to understand our entire situation a hell of a lot better.”

  “Are we going back to Briarcliff?”

  “Not in this weather. I’m no masochist, though I’ve been acting like one for some time. We’ll stay at my apartment in town.”

  “I’d rather go to a hotel,” Dany said, her eyes fixed stubbornly on the windshield wipers. “If you’ll drop me off, I’ll see you back at Briarcliff tomorrow afternoon.”

  “Be quiet, Dany,” Anthony said with barely controlled anger. “I’ve had a bitch of a day since Pete got back to Briarcliff after dropping you off on Kowalt’s doorstep like a too-eager call girl. I don’t want you to goad me into losing my temper. Not tonight.”

  “You’re being your usual autocratic self, Anthony. Didn’t it occur to you that’s why I decided to get away from you for a while?”

  “It occurred to me,” he said grimly. “It also occurred to me that I’d probably scared you right into Kowalt’s bed.” He flipped on his turn signal and drove into the underground parking lot beneath a towering modern structure that appeared to be composed principally of shimmering smoked glass. “I was a little uptight or I’d never have made that mistake.” He pulled into a parking space and shut off the ignition before turning to her with a mirthless smile. “You can be sure it’s not one I’ll make again after the hell I’ve been through tonight. So forget about getting away from me. I’m not about to let you do it again. Not for an hour, much less a night.” She parted her lips to speak, her dark eyes smoldering, but he was opening the door and stepping out of the car. “Come on, you can let all that indignation loose on me when we get up to the apartment.”

  She’d do just that, she decided, as she watched him turn his key in the electric lock of the elevator and press the floor button. She had been frightened and unsure before, just as he’d guessed, but that was subdued now by anger.

  Anthony’s apartment was so completely different from Briarcliff that she stopped in surprise just inside the door. It was all sleek, modern lines and boldly masculine decor. Blue-gray walls and matching carpet contrasted with the midnight-blue velvet couch and chairs. Even the chrome-tiled fireplace in the sunken living room was stark and modern. The logs lit with a touch of Anthony’s finger on the gas starter as he knelt before it.

  “It’s so different,” she said as she took off her coat and dropped it on an easy chair. “It’s not like Briarcliff at all.”

  He stood up and shrugged out of his jacket. “Why should it be? Briarcliff is your home, not mine. Old money, antiques, cozy warmth. None of those are me.”

  He was right; there was nothing cozy about Anthony. “No money, old or otherwise,” she said tersely. “I’ve had the fact of your subsidizing me rubbed in often enough by the media.”

  “There was plenty of money before your parents decided that palatial yachts and parties at twenty thou
sand a clip were de rigueur for their pleasure.” He picked up her coat and moved across the foyer to hang it up neatly along with his in the hall closet. “They should have set up a trust fund to protect you in case something happened to them.”

  “We don’t all plan and plot our lives to the last detail,” she said defiantly. “They were happy. And, if I recall, you attended a good many of those parties. I remember seeing you any number of times.”

  “Yes, you would.” There was a curiously tender curve to his lips. “From behind the potted plants at the head of the stairs or peeping out around that white birch tree by the pond. I used to worry about you getting too cold, but you seemed to be bundled up warmly.”

  “Yes, I was always warm enough,” she said absently. “You knew I was there watching? I didn’t think anyone noticed.”

  “Perhaps I wouldn’t have if I hadn’t been so god-awful bored and looking for a distraction.” He took her arm and propelled her down the three steps into the sunken living room and over to the couch before the fireplace. “I’d just won the Olympic gold and was the star of an ice show. I suppose I was curious to taste all the delights of fame and adulation.” He dropped down on the couch. “It got old very fast. I wasn’t used to people making pleasure their prime motivation for existence. I got so I looked forward to seeing your fiery red hair and grave dark eyes behind that potted palm. Once you weren’t there, and it bothered me all evening. I couldn’t ask Nan or Jeffrey because obviously they didn’t realize you were spying on them. I finally cross-examined one of the servants and found you were sick with a virulent case of the flu.” His lips tightened. “Not that it changed any of your parents’ social plans. They didn’t even try to keep the noise down at the party.”

  Dany sank down into the deep armchair across from the couch. “You sound like you didn’t even like them,” she whispered, her eyes enormous in her thin face.

  “I didn’t,” he said bluntly, leaning back against the midnight-blue velvet cushions. “They were selfish, egotistical, lazy, and even a little stupid. I disliked them as much as the crowd they surrounded themselves with.”