Satin Pleasures (6 page)

"I do understand your position." It sounded like he was picking his way through a mine field. "It doesn't change the fact you took a bad knock to your head today."

Sweet mercy, the man was persistent. "Why do you care so much what happens to me?"

An intense, unreadable emotion flickered in his eyes. "Maybe I don't like to see my friends hurting."

Her heart melted. If this were the kind of concern he showed a friend, what would he do for a lover? Would he cajole and entice her into resting or throw her over his shoulder and carry her off to the nearest bed? She could think of half a dozen worse things than being personally tucked in by Dan McDonald.

Don't go there, Tess.

"I'm a big girl, Dan. I know how to take care of myself." Her newly revived hormones were giving her fits though!

"Fine.
Go back to your office." He shook his head. "I want you to do something for me first."

His acceptance threw her off guard. Then she realized he was simply changing tactics. Her lips curved up in admiration. "I'm laying odds you were a formidable force in the boardroom. Maybe I’d better escape now while I can."

He grinned, reached into his pocket. "You can spare two minutes to humor me."

She bit her lip when he tugged her hand close and pressed something into her palm. Her fingers curled automatically, his warmth seeping under her skin, alternately exciting and soothing.

"Now, close your eyes and count to ten."

Tess mentally tallied the stacks of work waiting for her in her office.

"Okay, look down," Dan instructed. "What do you see?"

"A card?"

Scooping up the plastic square, he waggled it in front of her face as though he were a world-renown magician about to reveal all his wondrous secrets. "Ah! This is no ordinary card. See the words at the top?"

"Yes."

"What do they say?"

"The Stress Factor."

"See the chart?" He waited for her nod. "Each color means something.
Blue, for calm.
Green, for normal.
Red is tense. Black is marked STRESS.

"When you held the card, it registered your stress level. What's the color in the box?" He dropped the card, face up, in her hand.

She sat rigidly in her chair, staring down at it like it was a snake coiled to strike. "It's black."

"What does that tell you?"

Throwing the card on the table between them, she wiped her damp palm on her skirt. "It doesn't mean anything! It's like a mood ring of the 70s. It's all very colorful, but not too scientific or accurate. If you're saying I'm a strung out woman on her way to the padded room on the say-so of a little piece of plastic, I'll deny it every step of the way."

"Okay, say it is all hokum. Let me show you something." Dan picked up the card, pressed his thumb to the appropriate square, and locked his gaze on hers.

From the first bold contact, she was lost. His cool, sea green eyes looked calm, placid, and she felt as if she'd stepped, chin-deep, into a pool of overheated water with a powerful current rushing below the surface. It dragged her in one direction, then another, then another, until she grew dizzy with emotions she refused to identify.

Breathing became difficult. Her heart pumped frantically to catch up. Dan said something she didn't quite hear. "What?"

Without looking first, he held the card up in front of her. "What color do you see?"

His display of confidence was aggravating. "It's green.
So what?"

He frowned at her unwillingness to grasp his point. "I spent the better part of a year learning to do that. Yeah, it’s not too scientific but it forced me to find ways to let go of my stress. I can pull this baby out of my pocket any time I want now, and it's always blue or green. This is what's important, not whether or not you get that next promotion, that new perk."

Boy, did they have a difference of opinion!

Dan held up his hand. "I'm not saying you shouldn't strive for the things you want, Tess. But, to get there with your sanity and health intact, you must protect yourself."

Enough was enough. "Maybe you can rest on your laurels, Dan. I can't. Too many people rely on me.
The one-hundred-fifty-plus merchants in this mall.
Harry and his ailing wife.
Thorgram's directors and stockholders."

Her parents.

The vivid, mental image of her mother's bowed shoulders and her father's pain-etched face pried her from the seat. "I really must go, Dan." She paused. "Thanks for dinner."

"You're welcome."

She was afraid she'd disappointed him and wasn't quite sure why it mattered so much.

Dan's smile blurred the impression. He reached across the table to press the card back into her hand. "Keep this. You need it more than I do. Every chance you get, take it out, close your eyes and focus on pleasant thoughts and deep, slow breathing. When you get it down, consistently, to the cooler colors, you can give it back to me."

Tess didn't question why she walked away with the silly thing burning a hole in her palm. It was enough to know his pleased smile had somehow unraveled those tiny knots between her shoulders, the knots she'd refused to acknowledge...until now.

***

It was after eleven o'clock when Tess finally locked the door on her deserted office. Her desk cleared, she was ready for tomorrow's merchants meeting. She'd given up trying to decipher the twenty-page roofing analysis she'd requested from a local contractor. Her eyes burned from too many late nights, and she couldn't get excited about black goo and rock sizes.

Maybe a monsoon would hit San Francisco Bay tonight. If the roof was blown to Reno, her directors would be forced to stop patching it and replace it instead, only one item on the growing list of upgrades she wanted for her tenants. She’d never understand why Thorgram Group's upper echelon was so resistant to renovating the aging shopping center to guarantee their competition in the changing market. If she had her way, they'd be happily knee-deep in architects, engineers, and construction crews.

Her apartment door was closing behind her when her new phone—replaced by her ever-efficient secretary before she left for the day—rang. Plucking it from her jacket pocket, her heart skipped a beat when she recognized the voice.

"Do you have a turn signal on your car?" Dan growled into her ear.

"The right one sometimes winks out. There's a loose connection or something." Pulling hairpins from the other jacket pocket and throwing them, one by one, on the old sea chest she used as a coffee table, she flopped down on the couch. Then, she perked up. "Wait! How'd you know my signal doesn't work?"

Silence crackled between them. "I followed you home."

Tess bristled. The man had some nerve. "Where are you?"

"I’m, uh, parked on the corner." He spoke quickly before she found her tongue. "I only wanted to make sure you got home okay."

She didn’t like knowing his concern for her wellbeing warmed her insides.
Too much.
“How’d you get my number?”

Another brief silence.
“I ran into your secretary near the phone store and knew she’d replaced the one at the bottom of the bay. I took a chance the emergency number Aunt Mary had at the store hadn’t changed.”

“That’s called stalking, you know,” she said, only half joking.

“You’re right. I’m sorry,” he said, “but I did promise the doctor I’d see you home.” He paused. "Is Anthony there?"

Stifling the giggle that threatened to escape, she glanced at the birdcage in the corner. "Yes."

Tess could almost hear Dan's mental gears turning. Good. Serves him right, she thought.
Pushy man.

"Uh, well, since there's someone there to look after you, I'll let you get to bed." The silence was longer this time. "Take care, Tess. Good night."

She was left with the dial tone buzzing in her ear. Setting down the receiver, she stood and moved to the bay window. Anthony pulled his beak from under his bright yellow wing, chirped, then sidled along the perch until he was pressed against the sleek softness of his less-colorful mate. Cleo cheeped and fluffed her feathers before settling again.

Envy tugged at Tess's heart. There were times, like now in the middle of the night when her defenses were lowest she questioned the necessity of her singular path. She, too, wanted to snuggle into supportive, masculine arms, hear someone whisper in her ear that she didn't have to go it alone any more. As fantasies went, it wasn't much, but the notion slipped into her head often lately.

Maybe that was why Dan had affected her so completely today, why she kept thinking of his strong arms around her and his firm mouth brushing flames across her lips. Her longing had manifested itself in a compelling green-eyed man who wore flannel like a lumberjack and kissed like an angel.

"It's a fantasy," she murmured, knowing better than to expect any man to shoulder her burdens. Evan had given her a chance to 'adjust' her priorities that night in ICU. After she told him what to do with his adjustments, he'd demanded his ring back and exited her life with all the finesse of a dog with his tail on fire.

She was on her own until her father walked again, unaided, without pain. It was her fault his back was broken, her parents lost their dream nursery, and her mother still waited tables to pay the bills. Michael and Irene Emory were Tess's top priority and, if that meant spending her life alone....

She covered her bleak thoughts, along with the birds. "Sleep well, Anthony and Cleopatra."

Exhausted, Tess should have fallen asleep the instant her head hit the pillow. It was impossible when an attractive stranger boldly stepped into her mind every time her guard came down. In nearly thirty years, hadn't she created enough memories to pull out without reliving this particular afternoon?

Admittedly, those two hours on the bridge were the most comfortable she'd ever spent with a man.
Dan was easy to talk to, fun-loving, and she enjoyed being with him...when he wasn't telling her how to run her life. No, it was more than that. When his lips pressed against hers, firm and demanding, she'd experienced something her fiancé had never made her feel.

Desire.
White-hot, searing desire.

A shudder trickled beneath her skin. Her blood thickened with unaccustomed need. It was as if Dan were lying beside her, his hard, callused fingertips strumming a lazy tune against her sensitive nerve endings. She moaned when she remembered the way his taste lingered on her lips all afternoon, teasing her with the certainty she'd never see the provocative stranger with the sinful kisses again. Sweet mercy, the man could kiss up a storm.

You don't need any more storms in your life.

Throwing back her covers against her thoughts, she turned on the brass lamp at her bedside. Then, she stomped into the bathroom and ruthlessly brushed her teeth a second time, erasing Dan from memory with each stroke. Satisfied with her efforts, she slid back into bed and leaned over to switch off the light.

She grabbed the colorful plastic card off her nightstand instead. Why hadn't she left it on the food court table under her discarded napkin where it belonged? Dan had no idea what he was talking about. Look at his lackadaisical approach to life. The man was living in the back of a truck!

How could he fish for months on end, especially after engaging in such a demanding career? She would think he'd get bored eventually. She'd certainly go nuts.

His illusion of balance was an illusion.
A fantasy.
He'd lost touch with the real world and didn't even know.
Poor man.

The whole thing was nonsense anyway. She wasn't stressed and a piece of plastic couldn't tell her otherwise. She'd prove it. Pressing her thumb in the middle of the box, she closed her eyes and counted. For good measure, she counted again. When her eyes opened, she threw the card across the room.

Black.
She'd always hated that color.

***

Late the next afternoon, Dan yawned under cover of his hand and watched the conference room fill up. The air conditioner blew overhead, but the sunny room had obviously been closed for some time and too many bodies made it worse. A nap on the balcony of his newly leased cliff house overlooking the beach, the warm sun caressing his naked chest, sounded like the only prescription worth swallowing.

He smiled at the thought of his productive morning. The first thing he'd done after signing the papers on the house was to buy a couple of double chaise lounges. He was dying to try one of them out.
Alone, if necessary, although it would be more fun if someone joined him.

Like Tess.

He could easily imagine her lying next to him on the ultra-soft cushion, her luxuriant curls loose and blowing every which way on the playful ocean breeze. It would trail over his bare skin as she leaned over to plant slow, drugging kisses in an erotic line from his throat down to his chest. He swallowed hard when she dropped lower and—Laughter from beside him made him tug at the knot of his tie. He shifted in his chair, grateful the conference table shielded his lap. Sporting a hard-on in front of the entire Merchants Association was not good business. "What?" he demanded of his aunt.