Satin Pleasures

by Karen Docter

  With a sigh, she crushed the mutiny. This promotion was vital to her career, critical to her father’s health. She had no choice. First, she’d clean up this little mess. Then she’d hit her directors again and again, until the shopping center was operating the way it should. Finally, somehow, she’d find a way to make the next Sunday brunch at her parents’ house to smooth over their worry about her.

  Who needed five hours of sleep anyway?

  ***

  Tess knew right away, she was dreaming. A lowly Thorgram Group manager with one fingernail on the next promotional rung did not openly defy her directors about company policy. And, she frowned, it would never occur to her to wear black silk stockings with a strapless, red sequin sheath to the office. Thankfully, she could do anything she wanted in her dreams.

  A small smile played with her mouth, making her Vermilion Passion lipstick shine more appealingly. Maybe her subconscious had an idea of worth. She’d tried about everything else in her bid for cooperation from her superiors. Taking a step backward, she allowed the scene to unfold in her mind.

  From her perch on the edge of her desk, Tess smiled at the glazed expression on Mr. Thorgram’s face. The CEO sat before her in her big swivel chair while her shoeless foot worked its way up his pant leg. The old codger, her worst critic among the directors, probably hadn’t seen this much leg in the past thirty years. She wasn’t sure how much he could take before he keeled over, but she was determined to sway him to her way of thinking.

  This time, the bugger would pour her a cup of coffee!

  Her smile faltered when the scene melted, coalescing into something new. Her toes, sensitized by the feel of silk against her skin, were no longer skimming Thorgram’s leg, but caught in the firm grip of a large masculine hand. She looked into Dan McDonald’s hot gaze seconds before he stood, swept her neat stacks of papers from the desk beneath her and laid her back against the bare cherry wood top.

  Her legs wrapped around him as she lifted into his kiss without a whimper of debate. Their lips locked. Tongues mated. A tangled mix of tastes and scents assailed her senses. Coffee and peppermint. Woodsy aftershave and clean male. Bittersweet chocolate. She moaned. Reality was never this good.

  Tess moaned again when she woke up and stared directly into turbulent, sea green eyes. “Sweet mercy, you’re real!”

  Dragging her fingers from Dan’s hair, she scrambled off her office couch, her breasts heaving. With embarrassment. With unfulfilled desire. Her subconscious had a hell of a lot to answer for…as soon as it stopped laughing. “I’m sorry that I, that you—”

  Staggered by the force of Tess’s passion, Dan rose from his kneeling position and spoke without thinking. “I’m not.”

  Her tousled hair, mussed linen suit, and startled eyes caught at something deep inside him. Caught and yanked hard. He’d gently touched her shoulder to alert her to his presence, and she’s assaulted him with a knockout kiss that ripped an erotic path to his toes and back to places he dare not think about without a bedroom nearby.

  Watching her walk in stocking feet behind the protection of her desk, he muttered. “I’m a firm believer in dessert after dinner. The sweeter, the better.”

  Tess’s quick glance told him he should have spoken more quietly. “I didn’t mean to kiss you like that.”

  A little devil tweaked Dan’s curiosity. “You didn’t mean to kiss me? Or you didn’t mean to kiss me like that?”

  “I didn’t mean to kiss you at all! I was thinking of someone else.” Tess glared at her swivel chair, as if expecting to find it occupied, before she dropped into it. “What are you doing here, Dan?”

  He wished he knew. The reminder about her lover, Anthony, was the slap in the face he needed. “We missed you at the restaurant.”

  “Oh, no. I was supposed to—”

  “Attend A Touch of Silk & Satin’s pre-opening dinner party.”

  It irritated him he’d noticed her empty chair tonight. That his interest in the celebration waned once he realized she wasn’t going to show up. He’d spent the evening battling between an order to put her from his head and his need to check on her. Need won. The Tess he knew would never blow off a business dinner.

  Whether he had a right to or not, he was concerned about her. If the shadows under her eyes were any indication she needed sleep a lot more than the meal she’d missed. “It’s after eleven, Tess. Why are you still here?”

  She stiffened. “How’d you get in? I locked the office after everyone left.” Her brows descended in puzzlement. “Or was that last night?”

  This woman needed a keeper. “The doors were not locked,” he said, his voice sharp. “Anybody could have barged in here to find you alone in these back offices.”

  Tess bolted to her feet. “Nobody did, so stop yelling. If I need help, I’m perfectly capable of screaming.”

  Walking around the desk, Dan blocked her exit. “The mall is empty, except for the four-man maintenance crew and one lone security officer.”

  He drew close enough to feel the silky warmth radiating off her skin. His tone softened, but managed to sound more menacing. “Right now, those five big, strong men are having coffee together in the food court halfway across the mall. I saw them when I drove around here.

  “So, scream. Let’s see how long it takes them to hear you.”

  “Stop it, Dan.” She glared at him. “You don’t have to scare me to make your point.”

  He clenched his fingers to prevent them from gathering her to him. He was afraid he’d never let her go again, and he’d already seriously overstepped the bounds of their relationship. “You should be scared,” he growled. “If I were your Anthony, I’d wring your pretty neck for taking such risks.” Then, he’d drag her off to bed where she could get some sleep...eventually.

  Turning his back on the forbidden images that sentiment provoked, he walked back to the coffee table in front of the couch. When he returned, he set a Styrofoam container and matching cup on her desk. “The restaurant boxed up your prime rib. There’s chocolate cake in there, too. I didn’t know how you liked your coffee, so it’s black. Decaf.”

  Tess looked at his offerings, then at him. “I don’t know what to say.”

  She could ask him to stay and talk with her while she ate. She could say she wanted him as much as he wanted her. She could tell him she was free so he could draw her back to the plush comfort of the couch and kiss her this time. He had this insane, primitive urge to eradicate every possibility of being mistaken for another man again.

  He cleared his throat when he saw a flash of vulnerability in her eyes. Damn. “Say you’ll lock the door behind me when I leave,” he ordered gently.

  “I’ll lock the door behind you when you leave.”

  He stared a minute longer. Then, he forced himself to walk away. Double damn.

  ***

  It was only mid-afternoon and Tess was ready to cry ‘uncle.’ She’d hardly slept a wink last night, her dreams punctuated with irritated merchants, demanding surgeons, and wistful fantasies of getting stranded in the oddest places alone with Dan. The last thing she needed was a trying day.

  Today’s series of mishaps began when she left for work without her briefcase. She’d run back up four flights of stairs to her apartment, and then realized her keys were locked in the car ignition. Finally arriving at the office, her security chief waited with a graffiti artist he’d collared. By the time the police departed with the vandal, her schedule was shot and she was thoroughly frazzled. The hysterical leather goods manager who cornered her to report a mainline pipe burst over her store and ruined three racks of high-ticket merchandise was simply icing on the cake.

  Still, she felt guilty slipping into Dan’s store hours later than planned. The grand opening ceremony was long past, but she was glad to see the boutique was still busy. Dan, his aunt, and two sales clerks were occupied with customers, allowing Tess the opportunity to catch her breath and skim an envious eye over the merchandise.

  She immedi
ately spotted several items she wanted to add to her small collection. Handed a bulging wallet, Tess could easily go crazy in A Touch of Silk & Satin. Lingerie was one of the few vices she cultivated, although more sporadically than she liked. With every free penny earmarked for her father’s upcoming surgery, luxuries had fallen down her priority list.

  Mary O’Shaunessy came down the aisle to her side. “Tess, it’s good to see you.”

  “I’m sorry I missed the ribbon-cutting.”

  “Things come up.” Her gaze swept the store. “We had a crowd at the door when we opened, and it hasn’t slowed down yet. The response is better than we’d projected.”

  Testing the fabric of the midnight blue, bikini panties in front of her, Tess sighed. “You carry such beautiful merchandise you’ll be expanding into the next bay within a year.”

  Mary laughed. “Wouldn’t that twist VanAllen’s drawers into a knot? The old coot won’t accept his profits might soar with us next door. Everyone knows delicate underwear and jewels go together.”

  Tess chuckled at the thought of Claude VanAllen’s face when he heard about his new neighbor. If he wasn’t retiring and closing the business next year when his lease expired, Thorgram Group might have some serious problems with the man. She hoped the next tenant would prove more amenable. She hoped there was a new tenant. Thanks to the current economy, she already had retail bays she couldn’t fill!

  “Speaking of delicate underwear, Tess.” Mary’s voice was loud in the sudden quiet around them. “Your order arrived this morning. Do you want to pick it up, now?”

  Glancing across the room in time to see Dan watching them, her cheeks flamed. “Uh...that would be great.”

  Another customer approached for assistance and, seeing Mary’s indecision, Tess assured the older woman her own order could wait. Mary wouldn’t hear of it.

  Before leaving Tess’s side, she called to her nephew. “Dan, there’s a prepaid special order on the inventory table. Would you get it? It’s tied in a box, so you’ll have to open it. Tess needs to inspect it.”

  He disappeared before Tess could react. She considered crawling into the merchandise drawer at her feet, but knew it was too late to hide. Sharing her lingerie preferences with Dan would not be her first choice; it was hard enough dealing with the man as a business acquaintance without him knowing what she wore next to her skin.

  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 t
he 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.

  Chapter Five

  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.