Sheer Pleasure

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “Stop trying to confuse me.”

  “I’m trying to make you understand that I love you, Annie Wilder, and that you don’t have to protect yourself from me. Yes, I wrote those letters, but the only thing I’m guilty of was being crazy enough to do whatever it took to get you to notice me and fall for me. I figured you would catch on once we really connected.” He sounded truly disappointed that she hadn’t.

  Annie fixated on one fact. “So you’re admitting you wrote the letters.”

  “Yeah, I wrote them. But as for those photographs or stalking you, you’re dead wrong. I love you, Annie,” he said for a third time. “Trust me. Let me see you through this.”

  “I—I can’t.”

  He shook his head. “You don’t want to. You want your stalker to be me because then you can stay safe. You can tell yourself you were right to keep a piece of yourself back, a piece I couldn’t get to. Then you don’t have to put your heart on the line and see where it leads you. You can tell yourself I’m just another Alan Cooper and wash your hands of me.”

  Unable to take any more, Annie ran out of the office and away from the one man who had the power to destroy her. How could she have let it get this far?

  She had to talk to Helen. To tell her friend everything. Helen would probably be delighted. Would say “I told you so!”

  No, that wasn’t fair. Helen loved her and wanted the best for her.

  What if Nate was telling the truth? Could he be innocent? Could he be right that she wanted him to be guilty so that she wouldn’t have to face her feelings for him? So that she wouldn’t have to make a commitment?

  Not liking that thought at all, Annie flew into the café, heart pounding, but stopped short when she didn’t see the blonde. “Is Helen in back?”

  “Sorry, she’s not here,” the kid behind the counter said. He was cleaning up, getting ready to close the place.

  “I need to find her right away.”

  “Riley was in here awhile ago, looking for her, too. Maybe she’s across the street with him.”

  “Thanks.”

  Annie headed for Gallery R and prayed Helen was there. They could leave and get some dinner and a couple of strong drinks. Then when they got home, they could rant and cry together.

  After that, Annie could call Detective John Sanchez, fill him in on the new photographs and Nate’s being her admirer and very probably her stalker.

  And then she could go back to her safe solitude and the furry male in her life….

  15

  NATE DIDN’T KNOW how long he sat there after Annie left. He thought he could leave it up to her, and if she didn’t believe him, tough. The police couldn’t prove he was involved in anything, any more than she could.

  But then he started thinking about it. He couldn’t blame her for being scared or suspicious of him, could he? So many scary things had happened to her, and he was always around afterward.

  And the truth of it was, he still wanted her. He still loved her. So he got off his duff and locked up and went downstairs in search of the woman who’d been his obsession longer than he cared to admit.

  Annie’s Attic was locked up tight, alarm on, as he figured it would be, so he entered Helen’s Cybercafé in hopes of finding her there. No Annie.

  No Nick, either. But when he turned around, it was to see Helen walking in the door.

  “I’m back.”

  “Hey, Annie was looking for you,” the kid behind the counter said.

  “So what did she do? Leave?” Helen locked gazes with Nate. “Go back to my place?”

  “She said something about checking over at the gallery to see if you were there.”

  “The gallery? I’d better get over there.”

  “Hold up.” Nate got between her and the door. “I think you and I need to talk.”

  Helen looked him over. “You’re right. I figured out who took Annie’s keys from my drawer, which means I probably know the identity of her stalker.”

  A pulse ticked at the corner of Nate’s eye as he waited for her to accuse him.

  HELEN WASN’T IN GALLERY R and Annie was waiting, growing more impatient by the minute, while Riley took care of a customer. He glanced at her sideways and gave her the high sign that he’d be with her in a few minutes. Though Annie understood the importance of hanging on to a potential sale, especially a big one, if the size of the canvas were any indication, she couldn’t help but be impatient. Like a child, she thought. She wanted Helen and she wanted her now.

  Was that the way she’d been with Nate? The familiarity of the mental demand spoke volumes. And maybe she was ready to listen.

  Wandering around the gallery, only half seeing the pieces of art, she wondered if Nate had been right about her. If she would rather think he was guilty so that she wouldn’t have to put her heart at risk. The more she thought about it, the more uneasy she grew.

  Nate wasn’t the stalker type. He was up front with his dangerous seductions. He’d done only as much as she’d allowed, and had stopped whenever she’d wanted to call a halt. He’d engaged her, enticed her, seduced her. And she simply didn’t believe he would hurt her, physically or mentally. Now that she’d had time to cool off, she regretted her accusations.

  What was she going to do?

  Annie shook her head and tried to distract herself by concentrating on the artwork before her. She happened to be standing by that display of photographs of nearly nude women, the one she’d given Nate a hard time over the other night.

  About to walk away, she realized there was something familiar about the photographs. The women weren’t posing for the camera. They were unaware of its presence…just as she had been!

  Other similarities struck her as well, and she looked for the artist’s signature. There were only initials: J.R.

  The pulse in her throat snapped and she moved to the end of the display, where she found a monograph about sexuality written by the artist. Gaping, she whirled around to leave and came face-to-face with a smiling John Riley.

  “I finally got rid of that bozo. He wasn’t interested in buying anything. What a waste of time.”

  “It was you,” she gasped, feeling a little light-headed at the realization. “It was you all along.”

  Riley glanced at his exhibit and then at her. “So you recognize my style.”

  He smiled at her as if she should be pleased. She tried to move past him but he blocked her way.

  “No reason to hurry out of here, Annie. Not when I finally have you all to myself.”

  Pulse spiking, she yelled, “Get out of my way!”

  But Riley ignored her, and though she tried to dodge around him, effectively blocked her escape. “All those weeks with me hanging around the café, just waiting to get close to you.”

  “What about Helen?” she demanded, telling herself to think. She had to get out of here.

  “What about her?” he said drolly.

  Had she imagined the romance between her friend and the gallery owner? Annie wondered. Had she just been seeing what she wanted to see?

  “Charming,” she muttered, “but I really have to go.”

  “I don’t think so.” Riley managed to stay between her and the door, and locked it before she could get her hand on the knob. Then he snapped off a bank of lights, throwing the gallery into semidarkness, with little more light than she’d had while working on the display. Reminded of being trapped first in the janitor’s closet and then in her own home, Annie found her heart beginning to thud. This time the monster was with her.

  “I don’t get it,” she said, her mind racing, trying to think of a way out. At the same time she couldn’t help wondering why he would go to the lengths he had to get her attention.

  “Neither do I. What’s with you and Bishop?” Riley asked, sounding like a jealous lover. “What in the hell are you doing with an uptight businessman rather than a kindred spirit like me?”

  “You’re no kindred spirit.”

  “We have so much in common, Annie.”
He was stalking her and she was backing up across the room as he continued. “It’s time you realized that. When I heard about the letters from your admirer, that they turned you on, I knew how alike we were. And I knew just what you wanted.”

  “The photos?” Swallowing hard, Annie shook her head. “The letters were romantic and tantalizing. The photos were simply crude. What do you think you’ve been doing, invading my privacy, terrorizing me—”

  “Why, I’ve been making love to you the way you like it.”

  “That’s sick!”

  Riley’s expression darkened. “What do you call screwing Bishop in the store window?”

  That was it! Annie made her move. She flew toward the door, but before she could release the lock, Riley was on her. Arm around her waist, he pulled her toward the back of the gallery, at the same time trying to get a hand under her skirt. Annie screamed and elbowed him.

  “Let go of me, you sick bastard!”

  “I’m not letting you go now that I finally have you where I want you.”

  Riley spoke in a voice that made the hairs on her neck stand at attention. She recognized that whisper from the phone calls. One of his hands was groping her, sliding up her stomach to her breast. She thought she might be sick…and decided she should do so on him.

  “I’m disappointed that you aren’t more in tune with me, of course,” he was saying. “Not that it matters. I intend to get what you’ve freely given Bishop.”

  A sharp bang whipped her attention to the front door. As if summoned, Nate was there, trying to get in, and a crazed-looking Helen was right beside him.

  “Screw them!” Riley growled, dragging her back behind the exhibit.

  Annie fought him for all she was worth, kicking and clawing, but her backward blows were ineffectual.

  “No!” she yelled, frantically grabbing on to a heavy piece of sculpture and jerking them to a stop.

  Still he didn’t loosen his grip. “Annie, don’t make me hurt you.”

  Riley was pressed into her back, trying to lift her skirt again and grinding his hips into her butt, letting her know the struggle was turning him on. If she could get her hand on that part of him…

  “They won’t get in here,” he whispered in her ear. “And if they go for help, it will be too late, because by then you’ll be mine.”

  Annie reached back to grab him, but he was ready for her and caught her hand in a vise. He began to squeeze….

  And then she heard it: an angry buzz drawing closer.

  “What the hell?”

  Riley loosened his grip for a second and Annie used the opportunity to grab the sculpture, wrest it from its base and push it at him. Then she ran for the door. But when she realized what Nate was about, she veered off toward the left side of the gallery and sheltered her head and face.

  For a moment, she saw the plate glass blaze brilliantly with light—until the Harley jumped upward and shattered it. Nate came roaring into the gallery in a spray of glass chips.

  Riley yelled something. And Annie saw him holding his eyes—no doubt cut by flying glass. Appropriate in a sick way, she thought.

  Before Nate could get off the Harley, Annie rushed forward and threw herself on him, covering him with grateful kisses.

  “You’re better than any fantasy,” she told him apologetically.

  The lights went on. Helen had come through the broken glass. Now she headed for the back saying, “Don’t let that bastard get away. I’m calling the police.”

  RILEY HAD BEEN TAKEN away after admitting to everything but defacing Annie’s Attic and trying to ruin her business—he’d suggested the police look to the alderman’s cohorts. For all the good that would do, Annie thought wryly, though she was certain he was correct. No doubt Zavadinski hadn’t dirtied his own hands.

  “You were right, you know,” she told Nate.

  “About?”

  They were in the café, just the three of them, the place being closed for the night. But Helen had offered some herbal tea and Annie had thought it a splendid idea. Anything to keep Nate from going away before she could apologize.

  “My fear of being with you,” she said. “The reason I let myself be convinced that you were my stalker.”

  “I helped on that score,” Helen admitted. “Sorry. Really. I’m just a little overprotective of my friends.”

  “Which isn’t really a bad thing,” Nate said.

  Helen patted his shoulder. “I’ll leave now. I’ll be over there if you need me.”

  Helen slunk back behind the counter and redid work that had already been done. And Annie took her first truly easy breath in days.

  “I just wish you could have listened to me earlier,” Nate was saying as the front door opened.

  Expecting to see Nick back from wherever he’d disappeared to, Annie was surprised when a woman entered, and was even more surprised that, after everything that had happened, Helen had forgotten to lock the door. She looked as if she meant to turn the prospective customer away. A bit too classy for the neighborhood, the woman was expensively dressed, and her silver-blond hair was smoothed back from her face in an elegant French twist.

  “I did listen,” Annie said, turning her attention back to Nate. “I just ran scared. But when I stopped to take a breath, I thought about what you said. And I realized you were right. I knew in my heart of hearts that you weren’t a stalker. But I waited about a minute too long to come to that conclusion.”

  “And put yourself right in Riley’s grasp.”

  “Exactly.” She shuddered and glanced toward the two women. The stranger was forcing her card on Helen, who shrugged and took it from her. “I know you probably can’t forgive me,” Annie continued, “but I wanted you to know—”

  “What exactly are you saying?”

  Annie gulped and said, “I’m trying to apologize.”

  “Are you saying you’re willing to do things differently?”

  “Do things differently,” she echoed, surprised that he wanted to do anything with her at all after she’d been so horrid to him. “What does that mean? No more fantasies?”

  “I have a great fantasy I’d like to explore.”

  “As in?”

  “Keeping a closer eye on you on a far more regular basis.”

  “As in…” Could she say the words? She could. “Live together?”

  Nate looked at her long and hard, then grinned. “That’ll do for a start.”

  Annie grinned back, and when Nate kissed her, her imagination began to soar….

  “Ahem.”

  Annie broke the kiss and glared up at Helen, who said, “I hate to interrupt, but did you see that woman?”

  “We saw her,” Nate said. “And you love interrupting.”

  Helen’s cheeks filled with color. “I’ll let that go for tonight, but after that…” She turned to Annie. “The woman was looking for Nick. She said it was urgent, and she gave me this.”

  Annie took a look at the card—not a business card, but a calling card, beautifully designed and executed. “Isabel Grayson. Sounds familiar.”

  “If I’m not mistaken, she’s the daughter of Senator William Grayson,” Helen stated.

  “You would be correct,” Nate said.

  Annie frowned. “What would she want with Nick?”

  “That’s what I was wondering.”

  “Frankly, I don’t care,” Nate suddenly announced. He rose, pulling Annie with him. “Nick’s a big boy. He can take care of himself. Isabel Grayson, too, I’m sure.”

  “But—”

  “Say good-night, Annie.”

  “Good night,” she repeated dutifully, before Nate dragged her outside and over to his Harley.

  “Now where were we?” he asked, pressing her back into the bike.

  “Uh-uh. Not here.”

  “What not here?” he teased.

  “I know the wheels in that perverted mind of yours are turning. I have a perfectly good bed, which I’ve been dying to try. And a cat who probably thinks I�
�ve abandoned him.”

  “We have to use the bed?” he complained as he straddled the bike. “Well, if we have to…get on.”

  Annie hesitated. “Um, you do realize I’m wearing a skirt.”

  Nate raised his eyebrows. “And that would be a problem why?”

  “Crotchless panties,” she lied, just to tease him.

  “You would go and plant that picture in my mind,” he groused.

  And it put a picture in her own mind, too….

  On the Harley, Nate unzipped his leathers and released his full erection. She threw a leg over the bike in front of him, then licked her fingers to part the lips between her legs, and used them to give him the most intimate of kisses. With a breathy sigh, she slid down his length and settled against him, looking forward to the ride of her life….

  Annie climbed on behind Nate and wrapped her arms around his waist.

  “Bed, huh?”

  “If you’re good,” she murmured in his ear, “I’ll let you…”

  Then, just the way he liked her to, she told him in graphic terms exactly what she wanted.

  ISBN: 978-1-4268-8240-1

  SHEER PLEASURE

  Copyright © 2002 by Patricia Pinianski.

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  All characters in this book have no existence outside the imagination of the author and have no relation whatsoever to anyone bearing the same name or names. They are not even distantly inspired by any individual known or unknown to the author, and all incidents are pure invention.

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