Pink Satin

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 taming 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.

She was absolutely certain that she was furious with her neighbor.

Leigh had left her car near Ryan’s parking spot. As Daniel strolled with Greer up the walk, she could hear the other woman’s car door being closed, the engine starting over low, throaty laughter between Leigh and Ryan. Before Daniel had even pushed open the outside door, Ryan’s heels were clicking on the pavement behind them.

“I’ll dig out that study I told you about, if you think it would be any help,” Ryan told Daniel as he fished his apartment key out of his pocket.

“I don’t want to put you to any trouble…”

“No trouble. And no hurry either,” Ryan assured him, and winked.

He promptly disappeared, quietly closing his door to leave Daniel and Greer in privacy. Greer, for no reason at all, felt doubly furious. Actually, she knew the reason. It was that wink. That condescending wink. As if inviting Daniel to try out a passionate clinch with Greer.

She couldn’t think of anything else the whole time Daniel worked up to his good-night kiss. While he methodically slipped off his glasses and started clearing his throat, Greer debated whether or not to ask him in. They’d been out several times in the past few months. One of these nights she’d planned to…well, at least see. Daniel’s kisses were warm, undemanding, lovely. He obviously wanted more. She really wouldn’t know how she felt about him until she tested it out. To hell with her neighbor. Daniel’s shyness was thawing; he might just be a very good man if she could coax him out of his shell.

Ryan had evidently already coaxed him halfway out of his shell. Greer was still mulling over the problem when Daniel startled her with his kiss. There was a tiny trace of aggression in the way he swung his arms around Greer…though she could taste the breath mint he’d popped into his mouth as they left the restaurant.

Her head tilted back, and she closed her eyes and felt Daniel’s moist lips touch hers. The taste was interesting, kind of like a peppermint-soaked sponge. She’d have given up her life savings to feel some kind of wild response to his kiss, but it was like that small problem of silk purses and sows’ ears. Dammit. Daniel’s touch was…clumsy. His tongue flickered out like a tiny serpent and, thank God, almost instantly withdrew. “You’re so beautiful, Greer,” he whispered. “Don’t worry; I’m not about to press you. I know you’re not the kind of woman who wants to rush things.”

A moment later, he left. Behind the locked door of her apartment, Greer tossed down her purse, tugged off her shoes and flopped into the couch. Truce instantly soared to her lap and settled in with approving purrs for her return. She patted the cat absently, then stood up, letting Truce drape himself around her neck, and paced.

Through thin walls, she heard a door opening, Ryan’s voice. Then Daniel’s.

She paced some more. That man. He wasn’t just tricky; he was becoming seriously dangerous. Whatever happened to rules? When a man was coming on to you, he was supposed to play by a certain set of rules. On a chessboard, there were few aggressive moves Greer couldn’t counter. In life, the same.

Ryan wasn’t playing fair.

Monday night, she didn’t arrive home from work until ten after seven. Love Lace had abruptly decided to gear up for the coming trade show. Greer had figured out a long time ago that people in the garment industry thrived on seasonal frenzies rather than advance preparations-actually, so did she.

Except that the air conditioning had been off all day; she was hot, irritable and tired after nine hours at her desk. Dropping her purse on the counter, she headed directly for the shower, peeling off clothes en route.

Underneath a deluge of soothing tepid water, she felt at least four of two dozen tense muscles begin to relax. Dinner and a few hours with her feet up would do the rest. She was rinsing her hair when the telephone rang.

Afraid it was her crank caller, she tensed instantly…and calmed down just as instantly, knowing it was her mother. She always called her mother at seven o’clock on Mondays, and when the ritual varied by even a few minutes, Greer’s mother worried. Hurriedly flicking off the faucet as the phone rang again, Greer stepped out of the shower, groping blindly for a towel.

Her eyes blinked open. She had shoved the towels in the washer at six o’clock that morning; she hadn’t thought to replace them. The phone rang again. Shivering, she raced out to the living room stark naked, Truce standing guard by the phone with his tail switching, limpid eyes interestedly following Greer’s drips all over the carpet.

“Hello. Mom?” Some days her breather called three times, sometimes none. Although she was sure it was her mother, she didn’t feel the surge of apprehension disappear until she heard the familiar voice. Greer relaxed, pushing back her damp hair with a grin, shivering. “No, I’m fine. I’m sorry I didn’t call on time; I hadn’t forgotten. I was going to call within another-”

The apartment door flew open. Greer’s jaw dropped in shock.

Ryan barreled in on a clear beeline for her telephone. He was wearing suit pants and an unbuttoned shirt that waved around his thighs; his feet were bare. Nothing on him, though, was quite as bare as she was, and the look in his eyes was nothing’s-going-to-stop-me determined.

Their eyes met, clashed, collided. He couldn’t possibly not have noticed her dripping bare skin, but his hand was still firmly extended, demanding the receiver. Greer’s mother was chatting about gardening.

Greer dropped promptly behind the couch, the phone to her ear, furiously waving him away. Her fingers were weaving on the right side of the couch; his face appeared over the top on the left side.

“You’re not talking to anyone. Is it him?” he demanded.

Amazing. Her breasts could blush. So could her navel. Would you get out of here, she mouthed frantically, and finally managed to interject a comment into her mother’s monologue. “That’s wonderful, Mom. Really. I…”

Ryan disappeared. Within seconds, the door to her apartment closed again. Cautiously, she peeked over the back of the couch. “Of course I’ve been listening,” she told her mother indignantly. “You were telling me about Mrs. Inger’s arthritis-”

He was gone.

Later, when she was fully dressed and fed, and the dishes washed and the cat petted, and the clock had long ago ticked past her bedtime hour, Greer was still sitting on the couch, thinking.

Around one, she finally figured out that the sole reason Ryan had come over was to protect her from her breather. She went to bed, yawning with overtired exasperation. She hadn’t expected him to come over for any other reason, of course.

Except that he’d come on like a freight train when they were dancing. He’d packed kisses like explosives, and in more subtle ways showed a very definite interest. For three days after that, they hadn’t seen each other, and when they did she was naked.

But then, he hadn’t even blinked twice when he saw her naked.

Half her life, Greer would have given gold for men who didn’t look at her figure.

She plumped up the pillow for the fourth time, pushed Truce off the bed for the third time, and stared at a night-black ceiling with her eyes wide open. Don’t you fall in love with him, lady. Stick to the kind of men you can handle.

Her conscience was always good for a pep talk. Greer was too honest to kid herself. Ryan…she couldn’t handle him. And her feelings around him…she wasn’t very good at handling those, either. Moorings shifted; landmarks disappeared; mental fogs rolled in when he was around.

Greer was safe just as she was. In time, perhaps, she’d want marriage again, but to a man she felt comfortable with. Ryan didn’t make her feel comfortable; she felt perfectly miserable around him. Those blue eyes of his invited wanton, deliciously decadent behavior, but Greer wasn’t playmate material. She’d never played, not where her sexual feelings were concerned. Sex was a serious business. And if she hadn’t taken it seriously, she would have been used more than once in her life.

Only Ryan made her feel as if it were…fun. As if touch had to do with laughter. As if kisses had to do with mischief. As if fooling an entire crowded restaurant had been…exciting. As if she were a different kind of woman, a woman who enjoyed enticing, and low-voiced laughter, and private, intimate teasing…

Goose. If you ever tried to play that role, they’d laugh you off the stage, Greer. Go to sleep.

She did.