White Satin

  “I think you’d better stop taking what you want for a bit, sweetheart”—he half-groaned, half-laughed—“or I’m going to be tempted into doing the same.” His hand tangled in her hair and he pulled her head back. Her eyes opened with a dreamy languor, and the expression in them made his breath stop. God, how long he’d waited for her to look at him like that. “I think it’s time for bed, Dany,” he said huskily. “Will you sleep in my arms tonight?”

  She nodded slowly, feeling as if the world were narrowing and telescoping to contain only silver-green eyes lit with flames, supple bronze muscles that flexed and moved against her softness with a hunger that was ravishing to the senses. “If you want me to,” she whispered.

  She’d do anything he wanted her to do. She knew that with a serene certainty now. She was so overflowing with love for him that it filled her with a dreamlike disorientation. Love. She’d been so careful never to think of love in connection with Anthony. It was safe to love Beau and Marta, and she’d given that love freely. It was even easy to give warmth and affection to Jack and the other men who’d faded in and out of her life. With Anthony it was different. She’d never known what he was feeling behind that wall of reserve. But she’d wanted to know. Oh, Lord, how she’d wanted to know! All her life all she’d ever wanted was to look behind that veil into the man that was Anthony Malik. Now, with a suddenness that was incredible, he was lowering the barrier and inviting her in.

  “That’s not enough,” he said quietly. “It’s got to be what you want too.” His fingers were warm on her naked back, drawing lazy, sensual patterns on its satin softness. “Tell me that you want it, Dany.”

  His fingers were pulling invisible wires of sensation that caused a spasmodic clenching between her thighs and a melting hotness in her veins. “I want it,” she said huskily in a half gasp. “Oh, yes, I want it, Anthony.”

  His lips touched hers in a kiss as soft as gossamer wings. “So sweet,” he murmured only a breath away. “I suppose I should feel like a bastard taking advantage of an innocent like you, but I don’t. You were meant to be mine. You’ll know that soon, even if you don’t know it now.”

  Then he was rising, scooping her up in his arms, carrying her up the three steps that led from the sunken living room and across the corridor. He didn’t bother to shut the door as he entered the bedroom, and the flickering firelight revealed a room furnished in silver-gray and wine. The deep-piled wine carpet contrasted with the silver-gray of the bedspread on the king-size bed. Then she was being lowered onto that bed’s cushioned softness, and the only thing she was conscious of was Anthony standing before her, a slim powerful shadow in the dim room. His hands were rapidly unfastening his belt and his voice was as velvet-soft as the coverlet caressing her naked back. “I’ve lain on that bed so many nights thinking of how it would be when you were lying there with me.” He was stripping with lithe swiftness. Every move was imbued with an inherent economy and grace. She loved to watch him move—on the ice or sprawled in a chair or walking across a room. He was finished now, and his nude body had a gleaming bronze patina that glowed flamelike in the dimness. He sat down beside her and began pulling off her soft suede boots.

  “Sometimes I could almost see you with your red hair tumbling over the pillow and your dark eyes looking up at me, pleading for me to love you.” He moved up a little on the bed and skillfully slid down the camel slacks and tiny bikini panties beneath them over her hips in one smooth movement. “I’d visualize you opening your thighs, arching up to me and inviting me to—”

  “Anthony, it may be dark in here, but I assure you my cheeks are bright scarlet,” Dany interrupted shakily. “I’m not accustomed to pillow talk, dammit.”

  His hand reached out to the crimson-shaded lamp on the bedside table, and they were suddenly in an intimate pool of light that came as a breathless little shock. He was so beautiful, she thought dreamily, so slender, yet with that gleaming ripple of muscle that invited her touch. And his eyes … torches flaming beneath the ice. Those torches were burning her with a hunger that caused the muscles in her stomach to knot as they ran over her with lingering deliberation.

  “I’ve seen you almost naked any number of times,” he said thickly. “But not like this. I remember last year in Chicago after that benefit exhibition I came into your dressing room while Marta was giving you a massage with just a scrap of a sheet over you. I sat there across the room talking with Beau, but I couldn’t keep my eyes off Marta’s hands moving over you with such clinical detachment.” He drew a deep, shaky breath. “It drove me crazy. I wanted it to be me touching you, causing that expression of sensual contentment on your face. I had to get the hell out of there or I’d have told them to leave and taken you right there on that table.” His eyes lifted from his intimate appraisal of her body to meet her eyes fiercely. “And it wouldn’t have been rape, Dany. I’d have given you so much pleasure, you would have been begging for it. I’d never have taken without giving. Not with you. It wouldn’t have been possible. Do you understand that?”

  She understood that she was melting and dissolving beneath those molten eyes and that the ache between her thighs was close to pain. Every breath she drew was being forced from lungs constricted with a mounting tension that was almost unbearable. “Yes, I can understand that,” she whispered. “Please don’t talk anymore, Anthony.” Her hand moved to caress the sleek coiled muscles of his shoulder. “I need you.”

  She could feel the muscles suddenly tense beneath her hand and grow rigid, and the expression on his face that had been nakedly vulnerable was now an impassive mask. “No, I told you, you don’t need anyone. You’re too strong for that kind of dependence.” His gaze still holding hers, one strong, sensitive hand reached out to cup her breast in his palm. She could feel her heart leap crazily as the breast swelled to his touch. “You want me, just as I want you.” His thumb flicked the hard, thrusting nipple, leaving a blazing fire in its wake. “And before long you’re going to want me a hell of a lot more. But you don’t need me. Remember that.”

  He was wrong, she thought wildly. If this desire was beginning to dominate her every sense, wasn’t it stark need? It came so close as to be nearly indistinguishable.

  Lord, he marveled, she was beautiful lying there with her eyes cloudy and languid, and her lips parted and inviting. He could feel her ripening under his hand, and he wanted to close his hand and squeeze gently, making her blossom even more. He wanted to run his hand over her body, discovering all the softness and textures of her. Her thighs were so damn soft and welcoming. All he had to do was to part those thighs and move between them. She was ready for him. She wanted him. Why the devil didn’t he reach out and take what he’d wanted for so long? It would be sheer, agonizing torture to have her lie all night in his arms and not bury himself in her, not give them the pleasure and relief they both wanted.

  He closed his eyes for an instant, shutting out the sight of her. He was rationalizing, and he’d never been one to lie to himself. Dany wanted him because he’d used all his expertise to make sure she did. He could take her now and chance that he could build on that experience, but he knew it was a risk he was reluctant to take. She was confused and uncertain now, and in the clear light of morning that confusion might be transformed into resentment and panic. It was all new to her, and he couldn’t expect her emotions to be as clearly focused as his own. No, he could only take so much and no more right now.

  Besides, though Anthony couldn’t claim many virtues, he’d always prided himself on his fairness. His lips curved with a touch of self-mockery as he wondered just how long that sense of justice would have held up if it hadn’t been bolstered by the fear that any irrevocable move on his part might ruin his plans for Dany. Not for any appreciable length of time—if the lightest touch of her hand on his shoulder could make him harden with an urgency he’d known only in the final stages of lovemaking with any other woman.

  He opened his eyes, and she was still gazing at him with a glowing languor that m
ade his breath catch in his throat. He quickly reached over and flicked off the light. “Come on, sweetheart, under the covers with you. This is all a little more than I can take at the moment.” She obediently moved as his hands and body bade her. He drew back the spread and sheet and covered her carefully before slipping in beside her and taking her in his arms. He could feel himself tremble as she molded herself against him with a responsiveness that caused his heart to leap to his throat. Willing. Great heavens, she was so willing, it was tearing him apart. Her lips brushed against his shoulder and he could smell the light floral perfume she always wore as a strand of her silky hair wafted against his cheek.

  He was so still, she could feel the iron rigidity of his muscles as she pressed against him. She’d never known how delicious a hard male body could feel against her own softness. The long muscles of his thighs were lightly furred as they rested between her own smoothness, and just the touch of him generated an excitement of its own. But she wanted more. Why was he so still?

  “Anthony.” Her lips moved to the hollow of his throat. “Make love to me. I won’t say I need you if you don’t want me to, but you know damn well I want you so much, I’m going crazy.”

  “Yes, I know that.” She could feel the thunder of his heart. “Do you think I don’t feel the same way?” He laughed ruefully. “No, the signs are totally unmistakable in our present situation, aren’t they?”

  Yes, they were, and she knew a deep sense of satisfaction as she nestled closer. “Well, then?”

  He drew a shuddering breath. “I can’t,” he said hoarsely, his hands splayed across her naked back. He moved them up and down with a compulsive sensuality, loving the feel of her. “I can’t, dammit!”

  “Can’t?” she echoed blankly. She couldn’t have understood correctly. He couldn’t deny them what they both so obviously wanted.

  Strong hands tangled in her hair as he drew her to him with a bone-crushing ferocity. “I told you I wasn’t going to ask for any final commitment on your part until after Calgary.” He laughed mirthlessly. “Don’t you realize that if I took you tonight I’d want to own you totally? I know myself too well. I wouldn’t give a damn if I monopolized you to the extent of destroying a dream you’ve devoted most of your life to. And if I did that, I’d lose you forever. So we wait.”

  She knew a smoldering anger that was born of frustration. “You could have realized that before,” she said tartly. “As usual, you’ve made all the decisions without consulting me.” She was trying to push him away as she spoke. “Well, I think this is one decision that should have been a mutual agreement.” She was wriggling determinedly, trying to break his hold. “But perhaps you’re right. Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.”

  “Lie still.” His voice was raw. “You’re driving me out of my mind. I never said it was a good idea, only that it was necessary.” With easy strength he turned her so that her back was to him, spoon-fashion. “Intimacy may not be as satisfactory as sex but it’s all we’ve got to build on at the moment.” His arms held her immobile with inexorable determination. “Now, relax. You’re going to sleep in my arms tonight, and if we both don’t go off our rockers from sheer frustration, it may be the first step in bridging that intimacy.”

  “I want you to let me go,” she persisted stubbornly. “You can’t always have everything your own way, Anthony.”

  He almost laughed aloud. He was in actual physical pain, and she was speaking as if his decision were a mere whim. Well, how could he expect her to understand him when he had spent most of his adult life guarding against that very thing? “No, I can’t always have everything my own way,” he agreed wearily, burying his face in the soft mass of her silky hair. “But tonight it’s going to be my way, Dany. Make up your mind to that.” Lord, she feels like flowing satin in my arms, he thought. “Now go to sleep, sweetheart. That will make it easier for both of us.”

  Chapter 3

  Even before she was totally awake, Dany was conscious of an odd sense of being bereft. Anthony was gone. There were no arms holding her with that possessiveness she’d become so accustomed to in one short night; there would be no dark head on that pillow next to her own. She knew it with a certainty that was verified as soon as she opened her eyes.

  She felt a sudden jab of loneliness that sent panic coursing through her. Would it always be like that now, waking without Anthony? He’d wanted to brand her with his seal of possession, and she had an idea he’d done just that.

  There was a note propped against the base of the lamp on the bedside table, and she recognized the bold black script even as she slowly sat up and reached for the sheet of paper.

  Dany,

  I’ve arranged for Pete Drissell to pick you up at eleven and drive you back to Briarcliff. I’ll see you there tomorrow.

  Anthony

  Not exactly a tender missive, she thought wryly: terse and to the point. Anthony never wasted words. Why was she disappointed that there was no hint of affection? He’d shown her passion, not affection, last night. She wasn’t even sure he knew what the emotion was.

  She threw aside the covers and got out of bed, tossing the note carelessly on the table. She certainly wouldn’t be tucking that into her souvenir box as a loving memento, she thought irritably as she crossed to the bathroom on the far side of the room. Within minutes she was standing beneath the shower, letting the heat and gentle spray soothe the aching tension from her muscles.

  It had been a night fraught with desire and the sudden awakening of her own sensuality. Out of that morass of emotions Anthony had woven bonds she might never be able to break. Dany didn’t even know if she wanted to break them. Her mind was whirling with such a jumble of thoughts and confusion, it only increased the sensation of panic.

  Anthony wanted her, and what Anthony wanted, Anthony took. She’d seen that as an inevitable course of events through all her years with him. But Anthony hadn’t taken last night. His restraint had been steel-hard even as she’d felt him tremble with desire against her. And that streak of hardness in him was the element that had frightened her the most. She was defenseless against it because she herself would never be able to be hard with Anthony. She would always melt at the first sign of tenderness from him. He’d spoken words of almost obsessive passion, but did Anthony really know how to love? She couldn’t know that because she knew so little of the enigma that was Anthony Malik. It could be very dangerous to release the love she’d stored up for years on the chance he’d respond with equal openness. There was nothing open and free about Anthony, and she might well tear her heart out trying to wrest a response from him that he might never be able to give. No, she must go very slowly and not allow him to arouse her as he’d done last night.

  She felt a surge of heat flow through her, and her breasts tautened to sudden ripeness as a memory of last night suddenly came back to her. She’d awakened in the middle of the night to feel Anthony’s hands running up and down her body in gentle exploration before cupping her breasts, squeezing with rhythmic force that had caused a burning sensation to tingle between her thighs and made her breath leave her lungs. She could feel his chest move against her back with the force of his labored breathing.

  “Anthony?” His name was a mere whisper. She could hardly force a sound past the tightness of her throat.

  “Lord, I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His voice was low and strained, and she could feel the heat of him like a burning brand against her skin. “I didn’t mean to wake you. So much for my strength of will.” His lips were buried in her hair. “You’re so soft. I had to have my hands on you.”

  “It’s all right,” she said faintly, unconsciously pressing back against him in an undulating movement. Why was he apologizing? she wondered dazedly. Didn’t he know he was only giving her what she wanted? What she’d always wanted from him? “I like it.” She’d always found it difficult talking to Anthony, but in this heated darkness it was easy to confess even the most intimate secrets. “I want you to touch me.” Her breat
h was coming in little gasps.

  “I know you do.” There was a touch of grimness in his voice. “And if I weren’t such a bastard, I’d have let you sleep through the night and not brought you down to share the same hell I’m in.”

  “Haven’t you slept at all?”

  His chuckle had a thread of pain in it. “Not very likely when I’m being burned alive.” His hands closed around her breasts with a sudden force. “And now you’re hurting too. I could feel the aching in you before you fell asleep. I didn’t mean to do that to you. Believe me, Dany.”

  “I believe you,” she said. There was a note of desperate sincerity in his voice that made it impossible to do anything else. “It doesn’t matter, just make love to me. That will make everything all right.”

  “You’re wrong. That would screw everything up royally,” he said bitterly. “Do you think I wouldn’t be inside you right now if I wasn’t sure of that?” He exhaled in a sigh that was more of a shudder. “But none of this is your fault. You shouldn’t be the one to pay.” His fingers were plucking teasingly at her nipples, causing rivers of fire to run to the center of her womanhood. “You won’t be the one to pay.” His cheek pushed aside the weight of her hair, his tongue outlining the curve of her inner ear. “You’re so sweet. I love the taste of you.” His hands, with a touch as exquisitely sensitive as sunlight on rose petals, moved from her breast to her waist and then slid down over the firmness of her belly to the soft down that guarded her womanhood. “The feel of you. You’re going to like this, Dany. Just relax and let me help you.” Then his hands were moving deftly between her thighs with an expertise that made her arch back against him as a shaft of electrifying pleasure shot through her.