White Satin (7 page)

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.”

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 breath 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.

“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.