Satin Pleasures (9 page)

Somehow, she had to get through the next few minutes with grace. If the events of last night weren’t to come back to haunt her, she had to pretend not to be bothered.

Yet, she was bothered.
Tremendously.

She’d kissed Dan again and slept through the entire thing. She didn’t know whether to jump up and down with joy or cry. Claiming her actions were dream-induced might make her excuses sound more plausible but, if she had to swallow the blame for something, it would have been nice to be awake in the first place to savor the misdeed.

In fact, she felt cheated. Now, she’d never know for certain if Dan’s kisses were the stuff dreams were made of or the real thing. That kiss on the bridge wasn’t a valid test because she wasn’t in her right mind then either.

Maybe she had a concussion, after all. Maybe the lump behind her ear was rubbing against some pleasure center in her brain, turning her into a sex maniac. Since waking up last night to find her hands buried in Dan’s soft hair, she’d had only one thing on her mind.
The two of them.
Tangled together.
On the plump office couch.
On top of her finely etched cherry wood desk.
Pressed into the luxurious, cream carpet.

“Where should we do this, here on the display table or on the register counter?”

Dan’s husky voice rasped across Tess’s lavishly drawn fantasy. Her head snapped up. “Neither!”

“Don’t you want it anymore?”

Looking at the slim, flowered box he held in his large hand, she breathed again. “Oh. Yes. I want it.”

He led her to the long counter by the register. With his strong fingers, he snapped the slim string binding the box. Then, he lifted the cover. “Let’s see what....”

The words trailed off. “Is this what you ordered?”

Tess nodded, tempted to grab the box and run. She was embarrassed and, suddenly, feeling more than a little guilty about the money she’d spent on herself. “It’s my early birthday present.”

The last thing she wanted him to do was pull it out for closer inspection but his hands were already buried in the scarlet satin and lace. Locating the delicate straps, he lifted her new bustier into view. It was beautiful, the material a deeper, richer color and the inset panels of lace infinitely wider than the model she remembered from the picture in Mary’s catalog. The long line of tiny hooks down the front was designed to tantalize while providing lift to her breasts.
An invitation to a lover to release them.
The matching lace panties were tiny scraps of nothing she knew would feel decadent against her skin. She loved it.

“When’s your birthday?”

Looking into Dan’s sea green eyes, she imagined the same fiery look in their depths that haunted her more erotic dreams. Remembering what she’d done to elicit that look, what he did in return, her breasts grew heavy, heat pooled low in her belly. Hands trembling, she took the bustier from him and pretended to examine it closely.
“Monday.
I’ll be thirty,” she murmured.

Thirty.
Unmarried.
No men in her life except her crippled father and a handful of cranky bosses. Thinking about it gave her the doldrums. That’s why she’d splurged on the lingerie in the first place, to bolster her spirits.

It wasn’t working.

“Let me be the first to say ‘Happy Birthday’, Tess.” Dan scooped the bustier and panties into the flowered box and calmly retied it with new string from the spool on the counter.

Not that he was anywhere near calm. Dan concentrated on making a knot, trying not to think about what lay innocently beneath his fingertips.
God help him, it was red. He’d never get that image of Tess in his four-poster out of his head now.

When he’d laid eyes on it, he pictured her modeling it for him. The second his fingers touched the sensuous material, he felt the smooth silk of her skin. Her perfume, enticing in the air around him, wove around his senses and dragged him deeper into a whirlpool of longing.

A vivid daydream skipped across his mind. His hands, buried in the romantic curls piled high on her head as he skimmed slow, burning kisses down her slender throat. His fingers, pulling, tugging pins, until her hair hung in wild abandon down her back and over the peek-a-boo lace at her breasts.
An invitation to the explorer inside him.

He’d start his expedition at the very top and release each hook slowly until
he
—

“Dan?”

Caught in her spice-filled eyes, he cursed his demanding libido and handed the box over the counter, abruptly concluding their business together. “Have a nice day, Tess.”

That should have ended it for Dan. It didn’t. Something began to nag at him after she’d clutched her purchase to her breasts and left the store. It was closing time before he acknowledged what he’d done. He’d tied at least six knots in the string that triple-wrapped the box holding her new lingerie. Only a sharp pair of scissors or a very determined lover was getting anywhere near Tess’s present.

His groan reverberated through the empty stockroom. He dropped the tangle of discarded hangers he was separating. Hadn’t he learned anything this past year? He’d known from the start Tess represented a lifestyle he couldn’t survive again. Hell, as a friend she threatened the balance he needed, made him edgy and provoked memories of what he’d left behind. Uncomfortable memories of things he hadn’t known he missed.

He didn’t want to miss anything about his old life. The very things he’d loved most, the excitement, the challenge, damned near killed him. Lying in a hospital bed for weeks fighting pneumonia and a body determined to shut down on him, he’d had a lot of time to think about his obsessions and where they were leading him.

The day his doctor announced, “I think you’ll live, Mr. McDonald,” was the day he decided he would.
Live
. His search for balance began when he checked out of the hospital. He spent the intervening months working
himself
into shape, both physically and mentally. He pursued financial investments strictly for his own amusement, always moving on when the transaction was finished. At least, he had until Florida, where he realized his idle days were numbered.

By the time he headed west in answer to his family’s call for help, he knew where he was going afterwards. He’d made plans. Then, he drove onto a bridge in the middle of San Francisco Bay and run smack into a new obsession. He knew her name and, heaven help him, a million placid fishing holes might not be enough to cure him of this one.

He’d wondered if he was making the biggest mistake of his life by coming here. Now, he knew. He should have turned the truck around while he had the chance.

Tess had trouble with a capital “T”. “Happy Birthday,” she whispered after the
Fancy Footsteps
owner, Don West, left her office Monday morning.

She couldn’t believe she was in danger of losing his lease. All that stood in his way were sentimental feelings about a twenty-year-old storefront that launched his shoe empire and her assurance his sales would improve. If he did take his business elsewhere, he’d be the fifth merchant to desert the ship in the past year. She was losing her beloved shopping center to a long, downhill slide into oblivion, one tiny piece at a time.

Not that she blamed any of her tenants for moving on to upscale facilities with higher visibility and more amenities. She’d warned her superiors serious changes needed to be made or the exodus would continue, but they seemed content to allow their investment to stagnate.

Why?

After West’s claim that he, along with several other merchants, was recently canvassed by an unnamed investment firm she couldn’t discount the possibility her company was preparing to dump the aging shopping center. Familiar with the way the
Thorgram
Group worked, Tess knew they wouldn’t invite another investor into their family enclave, which meant she had more trouble on her hands than a tenant rebellion.

Uneasiness burned a hole in her midsection. Sweet mercy, what would she do if it were true?

“Hey, you’re supposed to smile on days like these.”

Dan’s observation dragged Tess’s attention to where he lounged in her doorway, bigger and sexier than ever in a navy suit and matching power tie. The sight of his self-assured grin smothered the alarm threatening to consume her.

“Don’t tell me,” she said with mock dismay. “You’re one of those Monday Lovers, aren’t you?”

His eyebrows wiggled up and down wickedly. “I can be a lover every day of the week.”

She swallowed a moan, not daring to think of Dan as a lover. No sense in adding fuel to that fire! “I’ll bet.”

Hovering on the threshold, his gaze darted around the room. To Tess, it looked like he was reconnoitering enemy territory before tossing a hand grenade. “Looking for someone?”

“Dragon Lady. You know, the one who sits out front guarding the fortress.” A horrified expression crossed his face as he straightened. “You are the damsel in distress, aren’t you? Don’t tell me I’ve climbed through the wrong castle window!”

Chuckling at his antics, her dark mood retreated further. It felt so good to cast aside her problems, if only for a short time. She’d seen so little of Dan the past few days she’d begun to think he was avoiding her. “Are you the knight sent to rescue me? I thought you’d be taller.”

He glanced down. “I left my boot wedges in my other armor suit but, if you think it’s important, I could come back.”

She tore her gaze off his too masculine body. “If you leave now,” she said, “the gnome who locked me in might return.”

Dan laughed. “If you’re referring to your boss, I don’t imagine he’d appreciate being called a gnome. Besides, I think you’re mixing up your fairy tales.”

“Emily isn’t a dragon, either, and I think
Rumplestiltskin
is appropriate today. Spinning gold from straw can’t be as problematic as convincing your fellow merchants more customers mean bigger profits.”

“You’re still fighting those demons? No wonder it was so difficult to storm the castle gates.”

“Sorry. I’ve been locked in this office with one person or another since seven a.m., and Emily tends to get protective.” She waved a hand. “Sneak in here and close the door. I’ll hide you for five minutes until my next appointment is due.”

Dan was sitting in front of her desk before she could blink. “You aren’t enjoying your birthday.”

It was impossible to argue that point. “On a zero-to-ten scale, this one rated about a two before you showed up.”

“Ouch.” He hesitated, and then raised an eyebrow. “Where is it now?”

“That depends. If you’re here to tell me you’re moving your storefront to Tahiti, it’s liable to slip into the negative numbers.” The thought of never seeing the laughter in his eyes again actually hurt.

“What if I’m here to wish you a happy birthday?”

A grin pulled at her lips. “We’re pushing for a resounding ten.”

“Then,” he nodded decisively, “Happy Birthday, Tess.”

“Thank you.” No one but her parents and her secretary, who spent more time with her than anyone, had acknowledged her birthday for years. She hadn’t thought it mattered, but the rush of pleasure she felt upon hearing Dan’s simple good wishes told her it did.

“I did have another reason for coming to see you.”

She tensed and was rewarded with Dan’s narrowed gaze. “Don’t do that,” he admonished. “You’ll give me a complex.” He reached into his pants pocket to pull something out. When his fist opened, paper fluttered like snow on her desk.

“What are you doing?”

“Giving back your check.”

The personal check she’d left with his aunt last Friday was unrecognizable now. “That was meant to pay for the repairs you made on my car. I can’t let you do this.”

“Why not?
The cost of the parts was negligible, not worth a quarter of what that check was made out for.”

“But, the labor—”

He looked insulted. “I don’t expect payment for lending a hand to a friend!”

Too used to carrying the heavy burdens of her world, she didn’t often receive help from someone else. Dan’s generosity to a relative stranger meant more to her than any prettily-wrapped present. “I don’t know what to say,” she whispered past the huge ball clogging her throat.

His expression softened. “The response is ‘thanks’.”

Standing, Tess walked around her desk, bent over and pressed a kiss to Dan’s cheek. “Thanks,” she said huskily.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, his gaze dark, unreadable. “Tess, I—”

With an abrupt shake of his head, he flashed one of his melt-your-stockings kinds of grins. “My time’s up. I’m sneaking out before Dragon Lady comes in and mistakes me for a late-morning snack.” Rising, he moved toward the door and opened it. “I hope you’ve left time open for you today, for whatever Anthony’s planned for your birthday.”

Tess had to clear the misunderstanding about her canary. Dan had been so nice to her, and she was treating him shabbily by letting the lie ride. Only a birdbrain would have taken this farce so far. “My parents are taking me to dinner. But, Anthony and I aren’t—”