White Satin

  “Anthony!”

  “I said you’d like it.” His tongue plunged suddenly deep into her ear and the combination of erotic fingers and warm tongue was like an upsurge of white-hot flame. His voice was a harsh rasp. “Do you know how much it excites me to know I can give you pleasure?”

  Then he was touching her in a new and different way with the pad of his thumb, and a low cry broke from her. “Anthony, I can’t stand it. It’s breaking me apart.”

  “Shhh, it’s all right.” His strong teeth were nibbling at the lobe of her ear with a pressure sharp enough to be on the borderline of pain, but it only added to the erotic arousal. “Just let go. I’m right here holding you.” His caresses suddenly accelerated with a force and skill that caused a small moan to break from her. “Just let go, love.”

  The release of tension came with a brilliant burst of sensation that was like nothing she’d ever experienced before. Even when the spasms that rocked her to her foundations subsided, she still found herself shaking and breathless. She drew a deep breath and was startled to hear it turn into a sob. There were tears flowing down her cheeks, and she couldn’t seem to stop them.

  She heard Anthony’s low exclamation, and then he was turning her to face him, her face buried in the rough triangle of hair on his chest. His lips were pressed to the top of her head and he was holding her with a cautious gentleness as if she were infinitely precious. “Don’t cry,” he said thickly. “Please don’t cry. Now I’m the one who’s breaking apart. I didn’t hurt you, did I? I tried to be careful. I only wanted to help you, love.”

  “You did,” she half-sobbed, half-laughed. “Oh, you did. I don’t know why I can’t stop the waterworks. It’s all so stupid.”

  “No, it’s not.” There was a trace of relief in his voice. “It’s my fault, I suppose. I’ve thrown everything at you all at once. You’d have to be some kind of superwoman not to experience a pretty traumatic reaction.” He gave her a swift hug. “I’m just grateful I didn’t hurt you. Hell, I don’t know anything about virgins.”

  She stiffened as she felt a swift pang. No, he wouldn’t be expected to be familiar with the idiotic reactions of the inexperienced, she told herself. His chosen mistresses were always knowledgeable and sophisticated in the extreme. Like Luisa. “No, you didn’t hurt me,” she said quietly. “You were very gentle.”

  “I tried to be.” His lips brushed her head again. “It wasn’t easy when all I wanted to do was to come to you and love you. Can you sleep now?”

  “I think so.” But he wouldn’t be able to rest. She could tell by the tense readiness of his body he still felt the aching frustration from which he’d just relieved her. Oh, Lord, why wouldn’t he let her help him? Why wouldn’t he take from her? Why did he always have to be so damn strong? She nestled her cheek closer, breathing in the lovely clean smell of him. It wasn’t any use fighting him. Anthony always did exactly as he thought best. Perhaps someday she’d be able to convince him the aching incompleteness she felt at his refusal to let her share was even worse than the physical incompleteness she’d known before. “Good night, Anthony.”

  Dany reached out and turned off the faucets with a decisive motion. All this reminiscing wasn’t accomplishing anything. It was only reinforcing the wisdom of going very cautiously where Anthony was concerned. Good heavens, he’d actually had her pleading with him to make love to her last night! Surely that fact alone proved how dangerous a relationship with him would be. He’d dominated her practically all her life, but she wouldn’t be able to tolerate that threat to her independence now.

  She stepped from the shower stall, plucked a soft terry bath towel from the heated rack, and began to dry herself briskly. No, she’d changed from that hero-worshipping child, and Anthony had to come to terms with it. He had a right to mastermind her career, but her personal life was something else again. How many times over the years had she heard herself described as Galatea to Anthony’s Pygmalion and only laughed at the comparison? Now it didn’t seem quite so funny when she recalled how pliant she’d been to his every wish since he’d practically kidnapped her from under Jack’s very eyes.

  Jack. She’d promised to get in touch with him before Anthony had snatched her away so precipitously. Dany wrapped the towel around her and strode with determined swiftness back into the bedroom to attempt to locate the clothing that Anthony had removed so deftly last night.

  She’d follow Anthony’s orders and return to Briarcliff this afternoon. She had a training regimen to follow, and every minute counted now that Calgary loomed so near. But she’d be damned if she’d be hustled off meekly without giving Jack an explanation for Anthony’s rudeness last night. She’d have Pete stop at Jack’s apartment before they left the city, and to hell with whether Anthony liked it or not. She wasn’t about to let him have his own way about everything. Not any longer.

  “You didn’t blur that last spin,” Beau commented mildly as she skated up to the wrought-iron bench on the bank of the pond where he was lolling with deceptive laziness. “The triple looked good, but as I said …”

  “… the spin didn’t blur,” she finished for him as she sat down beside him. She flinched as the iciness of the bench pierced the thinness of her tights. She shouldn’t have worn this short skating skirt when she’d known she’d be outdoors, she thought absently as she bent over to unlace her skates. It was fine when she was skating, but it wasn’t the most practical outfit when they had a ten-minute walk back to the house from the pond. “I knew it didn’t. That snow last night made the ice rough.” She glanced up with a grin. “And that’s not just an excuse. It really would have had enough speed if the ice had been right.”

  “I wasn’t arguing.” Beau picked up her heavy cream-colored wool jacket from the bench and draped it over her shoulders. “I’m just wondering what we’re doing out here freezing our butts off and having to put up with poor ice when we could be working in that deluxe indoor rink Anthony had built for you out back of ye old family mansion?” His lips twisted in a grin. “As I recall, it even comes complete with a Zamboni to smooth away that rough ice you’ve been complaining about.”

  She avoided those keen hazel eyes as she slipped off her left skate and started unlacing the right. “I felt like working outside today. It was nice having the wind and sun on my face after skating inside for the last few months.” She took the other skate off. “Besides, sometimes it’s good to have the ice a little rough. It gives you something to fight and overcome.”

  “And ice is a hell of a lot easier to fight than Anthony, isn’t it, Dany?” Beau’s voice was as soft as his eyes were sharp. “Did he give you a hard time yesterday? Is that why you ran away?”

  “I didn’t run away,” she denied quickly with a forced laugh. “Despite what you think, I’m not a child who’s afraid to face some make-believe bogeyman. I just had an impulse to see the bright lights and yielded to temptation. Don’t you ever do that, Beau?”

  “Yield to temptation?” He grinned. “All the time, sugar. The devil only has to blow in my ear and I’ll follow him anywhere.” The smile faded. “That’s why I’m a world-class expert on the subject and know when amateurs like you are putting me on. You’re too damn self-disciplined to take off like that unless you were pretty upset.” He picked up her skates and wiped them carefully with the soft cloth she always carried for that purpose before tucking them in her leather satchel. “And as Anthony disappeared right after you did, I gather he was in pursuit of our Little Nell in high dudgeon.” His face was grave. “Throw in the fact that you’re as edgy as a cat on a hot tin roof and fighting the ice as if it were your worst enemy, and it adds up to big trouble. I think we’d better talk about it, don’t you?”

  “No, I don’t,” she said firmly as she thrust her feet into her short suede boots and stood up. “You’re my coach, not my sports psychologist. Anthony didn’t think I needed one of those, remember?”

  “That’s not saying he’s right.” Beau got up leisurely, taking her elbow in o
ne hand and her satchel in the other as they started off over the hard-packed snow along the winding path. The Tudor house was glowing like an Elizabethan jewel in the fast-falling dusk. “There’s something to be said for relieving tension and clearing the way for concentration by using a Freudian father confessor.” His eyes were suddenly thoughtful. “I think Anthony would have bought you one of those, too, if he hadn’t thought you’d resent that kind of crutch as much as he would. He never could stand the idea of leaning on anyone’s strength but his own.”

  “Why, Beau?” She tried to cover the sudden intensity of her tone with a laugh that was not as light as she would have wished. “Why does he have to be the Rock of Gibraltar and the great god Zeus rolled into one? It’d be a great deal easier for the rest of us poor mortals if occasionally he’d come down from Mount Olympus.”

  “Did you ever consider it would be a lot more comfortable for him too?” Beau asked quietly. “Perhaps he’d like to come down from the mountain but he doesn’t know the path anymore. Mount Olympus must be a hell of a lonely place these days. All the ancient gods and goddesses are gone from the temple.”

  “That won’t wash, Beau,” she said. “Nothing ever stops Anthony from doing something he wants to do.”

  Beau shrugged. “How do you know that? Anthony’s a pretty difficult man to read. I still haven’t peeled off more than the top layer, and I’ve known him since I was a kid of eighteen.”

  “That long?” Her gaze flew to his face in surprise. “I never realized you’d been friends that long. I know you were in that ice revue together before Anthony took over Dynathe.” She calculated swiftly. “That’s right, I’d forgotten you’d competed in the Olympics together. You won the bronze that year.”

  “And Anthony won the gold.” He made a face. “Not that anyone expected anything else. He was the undisputed favorite before he even skated out on the ice for the compulsories. Still, it hurt like hell at the time. I had my own dreams of glory.” His lips twisted wryly. “I’m probably damn lucky I didn’t win the gold. I wasn’t the type of man then who could handle the high life with any degree of success. I’d probably have ended up on skid row with a bottle of wood alcohol to keep me warm.”

  Dany’s eyes widened. “I don’t understand. Skid row?”

  “You didn’t notice my passionate attachment for ginger ale?” Beau lifted a mocking brow. “I’m an alcoholic, Dany.”

  “I didn’t know,” she murmured, shocked. It seemed impossible that she’d been so self-centered as not to have been aware of such a thing in as close a friend as Beau.

  “It’s not exactly a weakness you talk about in public,” he said. “There are still too many people who don’t recognize it as a physical illness.” His lips tightened grimly. “I didn’t myself until Anthony took me by the scruff of the neck and rubbed my nose in it. Until then I had an image of myself as a decadent southern gentleman with a fatal but romantic flaw. That was much easier to accept for a man of my temperament than being ‘sick.’ Fortunately Anthony has a way of cutting like a knife through our little self-delusions. Probably because he has none himself.”

  “Anthony knew you were an alcoholic when he hired you as my coach?”

  Beau shook his head. “I was on the wagon by that time. It’s not likely he’d have risked me associating so closely with his pride and joy if he hadn’t been sure I would stay that way. He took me in hand before he left the ice show. He made me face the problem and put me in a clinic to dry out. Then he whisked me out of temptation’s way and into the straight and narrow when he decided to turn over your coaching to someone else.”

  “He did all that for you?” She shook her head in dazed disbelief. “You must have been very good friends.”

  “As close as Anthony would allow.” An ironic smile tugged at his lips. “I’m sure you’re aware that restriction wouldn’t exactly make us bosom buddies. Actually, after we both signed with the ice show, we had very little contact. My crowd was a little too wild for his taste. He preferred more sophisticated playmates. No one was more surprised than I that he came galloping to the rescue when I was gliding down the path to ruin. The only reason I can come up with was that I’d been fairly decent to him when we were both going for the gold. The other competitors were ready to cut him to little ribbons—even those on his own team.”

  “So much for the spirit of the Olympics.”

  “You couldn’t really blame them,” Beau said. “They’d worked all their lives for a chance at the big time. The difference between winning the gold and taking the silver is a three-million-dollar-a-year contract versus being just another hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar-a-year featured skater with an ice show. Maybe I’d have felt the same if I hadn’t always had more money than was good for me anyway. Even so, I was feeling pretty raw myself when he showed up at practice and took over the rink as if he owned it.” He shrugged. “Hell, he did own it. As soon as I saw him work out, I knew I didn’t stand a chance.”

  “That must have been terribly disappointing for you.” Dany’s voice was soft with sympathy. “I’m not sure how I’d have reacted under the same circumstances. Anthony had cause to be grateful to you, Beau.”

  He shook his head. “I just behaved the way any other true southern gentleman would have,” he drawled, his eyes more golden then as they twinkled. “We’ve had practice at being defeated by you arrogant Yankees. Perhaps I didn’t want the gold as much as the others did. It wasn’t worth trying to psych out another competitor, at least. But of course, it wouldn’t have been possible with Anthony. He wasn’t about to let anyone close enough to endanger his concentration. But they tried. He was the number-one target.”

  “Naturally.” Her face was troubled as she remembered some of the cattiness and venom she’d had to face herself since she’d reached the top rungs of competition. She’d been protected from a great deal of it by the wall of money and care Anthony had fashioned around her, but it hadn’t been enough to filter out all of the jealousy. That went with the territory in any competitive sport. The pressure on Anthony must have been excruciating without anyone to run interference. “He was so terribly alone.”

  “Not entirely. He had old Samuel Dynathe in his corner, remember.” Beau made a face. “I can’t say that’s the kind of support I would have chosen. A patron like Dynathe only tolerates winners. The pressure from him must have been even worse than from the other competitors.”

  “He must have cared something for Anthony,” Dany argued. She didn’t want to think of Anthony as that vulnerable and alone. Vulnerable? Good heavens, what was she thinking of? Anthony could never be vulnerable. “He left him his entire estate when he died, including the entire Dynathe conglomerate.”

  “He liked winners,” Beau repeated. “I don’t think he was a man who cared for anyone in the whole damn world. That company was his blood and guts, and he wanted someone at the helm who’d keep it at the top of the heap. He knew Anthony would do that.”

  “Yes, there’d be no question that he would assure that,” Dany said with a bittersweet smile. “Anthony’s definitely a winner. The rest of us are left standing at the post.”

  “I haven’t seen any signs of his trying to smother your initiative,” Beau said dryly. “Quite the contrary. And having the Rock of Gibraltar to lean upon can be very comforting on occasion. You’re being pretty rough on him, aren’t you, Dany?”

  “I have to be.” She bit her lip. “I guess it’s a defense mechanism. You weren’t far off when you said I was afraid of him. I’ve always felt that if I let down my guard even for a moment, all his determination and forcefulness would just sweep me away … that there wouldn’t be a particle of my own personality left.” Her hand made a little gesture of helplessness and frustration. “Oh, damn, I know that sounds crazy as the devil.”

  “No, it doesn’t.” Beau’s eyes were fixed thoughtfully on her face. “I can see how being Anthony’s primary focus all these years would make you a little wary. But you don’t really have to worr
y about that, you know. You can be quite a little dynamo yourself. I don’t know which one of you I’d back if it came to a showdown.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.” She wrinkled her nose at him affectionately. “I wish I could be as sure of my strength as you and Anthony seem to be. He’s always telling me how strong and independent I am too. It seems to be some sort of magic incantation around here.”

  They had arrived at the house now and were climbing the steps to the front door. “That should make you feel more secure if anything would. Do you think that if he values those qualities in you so highly, he’d ever try to crush them?”

  “I don’t know. How can anyone tell what Anthony will do?” she asked wearily. She couldn’t tell him it wasn’t his forcefulness she feared so much as her own loving desire that had flared so quickly last night. “That’s the whole point. Even after all these years Anthony is still almost a stranger to me. How can you trust a stranger?”

  “Think about it,” Beau argued softly. “Has he ever done anything to cause you to distrust him? He’s scrupulously honest both in business and personal dealings. He’s certainly been fantastically generous to you.” He opened the door to allow her to precede him. “And to me. Do you know he’s never allowed me even to thank him for putting my life back on the right track? No emotional blackmail and no suspicions. He ignores that part of my life as if it didn’t exist.” He shook his head. “And because it doesn’t exist for him anymore, it doesn’t exist for me either. That’s a pretty generous gift for anyone to give. It was a fairly ugly time for both of us. Curing an alcoholic is hell on wheels for everyone around him.”

  Dany blinked rapidly to hold back the tears. “But in this case very worthwhile,” she said, lightness masking the huskiness of her voice. “You’re an extremely special person, Beau Lantry.”

  For a moment Beau’s mocking panache was banished by unusual awkwardness. “Hey!” he said gruffly. “If you think you’re going to embarrass me by crying all over me, you can forget it. Look, it’s all in the past. I’ve got my problem licked now. The only reason I even brought it up was I thought it might help you to understand Anthony a little better.” He gave an affectionate tug on her ponytail. “You’re a sweet, loving lady with everyone but him. Why don’t you give him a chance to enter the magic circle? He may need it even more than the rest of us.”