White Satin (2 page)

Monteith persisted. “What kept Malik away from the competition?”

Why hadn’t Anthony been here, dammit? Didn’t he know how she needed him? “He’s been a very busy man since he inherited complete control of the Dynathe Corporation,” she said haltingly. “I’m sure he would have been here if he could.”

“Are you going to be—”

“You’ll have to excuse Miss Alexander,” Beau drawled, opening her dressing room door and practically pushing her inside. “She’s had a very exhausting day and has a plane to catch.” He cast a glance at the slender gold watch on his wrist. “In just two hours.” He backed into the room, still smiling genially. “I knew you boys would understand.” The door closed with gentle firmness.

Marta Paulsen bustled forward, her plump, square body almost militant. “Why didn’t you get
her away from them sooner?” she asked Beau tartly as she pushed Dany down into a chair and knelt to unlace her skates. “I was about to come out and yank her in myself. Who did that squirt Monteith think he was? If Anthony had been here, he wouldn’t have gotten away with that crap.” She glanced up at Dany as her strong broad hands deftly dispensed with the laces. “You were robbed. That Brandon girl looked like a cow on the ice.”

Dany shook her head. “She was good. She’s improved a lot since last year.” She reached down to pat Marta’s frizzy blond head, affectionately. “You always say I’ve been robbed. You know very well I was off today.” She looked deliberately at Beau, who’d dropped into the straight chair across the room. “And so do you, Beau.”

Beau stretched his tweed-clad legs lazily before him. “I’ve seen you in better form,” he admitted. “You seemed a bit mechanical toward the end. Your technique was pretty good though.”

“Mechanical!” Marta’s voice was indignant. “There’s never been anything mechanical about Dany’s skating.”

“Until today,” Dany said wearily. “Let’s face it, my technique and artistry were both below par.”

“Well, that Brandon cow sure wasn’t any Pavlova,” Marta grumbled, her blue eyes soft with sympathy. She slipped the second skate off Dany’s foot and massaged the instep with strong, skilled hands. “You’re tied up in knots. Strip down and let me loosen you up a little before you shower.”

Dany leaned back in the chair and closed her eyes. That sounded perfectly wonderful. As a masseuse Marta was superb. Her fingers were absolute magic on taut, rigid muscles. She had a motherly figure and had an enormous amount of strength in her arms and shoulders. “In a minute. Just let me relax for a while.”

“Sorry, Dany, you don’t have the time,” Beau said. “Not for the massage, nor to relax either. The plane that leaves in two hours is the last one from Denver to Salt Lake City today. Anthony will want you to be checked in at that Inn at Parke City tonight and to get plenty of rest.”

She opened her eyes. “Then, of course, we’ll do as our lord and master decrees,” she said, her lips twisting in a bittersweet smile. “We wouldn’t
want to offend the great man by changing his plans for our convenience.”

Beau straightened slowly and ran his hand absently through his modishly cut bronze hair. “No, we wouldn’t.” His gold-flecked hazel eyes were grave. “We all owe Anthony a hell of a lot. He doesn’t ask a great deal in exchange for what he gives.”

“Only obedience and service twenty-four hours a day, three hundred and sixty-five days a year,” Dany said tartly. Why was she talking like this? She owed Anthony everything and she knew it. It was as if something hurtful were goading her to say the words. Beau and Marta were both gazing at her in surprise, and their expressions only served to aggravate the uncharacteristic defiance she was feeling. “Why are you looking at me like that? Have I committed lèse-majesté against our omnipotent leader? Why is everyone so afraid of him, for heaven’s sake?”

“I’m not afraid of Anthony.” Beau’s gaze was thoughtful on her face. “And I don’t think Marta is either.” His slow drawl held a trace of speculation. “But I think you are. I never realized that
before. Why, Dany? He’s always been exceptionally generous with you.”

Two hundred thousand dollars, Dany mused, everything money and power could buy, his time and energy for the last twelve years. Exceptionally generous. Everything except love and affection. But then Anthony didn’t give those particular gifts to anyone. She
was
a little afraid of him, she realized with a sense of shock, and more bitter with him for those gifts he’d withheld than she’d believed possible. “Why should I be afraid?” she asked, evading Beau’s keen hazel eyes. “As you say, he’s been very kind to me.” She shook her head unhappily. “Oh, I don’t know. I’m all confused. I think losing the title may have shaken me up more than I realized. Forget I said anything.”

“Sure.” Beau rose lithely to his feet. “None of us are any too happy about it, sugar. But like I said, it’s not as if it were the Olympics. Put it behind you and learn from it.” The phone on the dressing table rang shrilly, and he reached for the receiver. “I’ll get it. You’d better get moving if we’re going to get to the airport on time.” He spoke into the
phone. “Lantry.” The casualness in his voice abruptly vanished. “Hello, Anthony.”

Dany stiffened, her dark eyes flying to Beau’s face and trying to read his expression.

“Yes, she’s right here. Shall I put her on?” Evidently he was answered in the negative, for he shook his head when Dany made a movement to get up and come to the phone. “Well, she’s not jumping for joy. She knows she blew it. We’ll probably have to tie her up to keep her from working from sunrise to sunset at Parke City to iron out the problems.” He listened for a long time, surprise flickering over his face. “You’re sure? We’ll have to deep-six all the plans we’ve made for the next month.” There was a long silence on Beau’s part, and Dany could almost hear the vibrant incisiveness of Anthony’s voice. “Okay. I’ll have her there by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.” Beau replaced the receiver and turned to Dany. “He saw the competition on television.” He grimaced. “He wasn’t at all pleased. He said to scrap the plans for Parke City and come back to Briarcliff pronto. He wants us to get to New York tomorrow, and
he’ll send Pete Drissell with the car to meet us at La Guardia and drive us on to Connecticut.”

“Briarcliff,” Dany whispered. She hadn’t been to Briarcliff for six years. She’d been fourteen then and had just won the Juniors. The year everything had changed. The year Anthony had changed. Since that time her training had all been conducted at various resorts around the country. Anthony had given the excuse that she needed to become accustomed to different rinks for competition purposes, and to gain more poise and independence, but she’d known that wasn’t the reason she had been evicted from the only home she’d ever known. She’d gotten in his way. He’d become tired of having her underfoot, and after that ghastly afternoon in February he couldn’t get rid of her fast enough. “He really wants us to come home?”

Beau nodded. “That’s what he says. But don’t expect a rip-roaring welcome. He sounded pretty grim.”

Dany didn’t care how he sounded. She was going home to Briarcliff. Home to Anthony.

* * *

“I’ve never seen you this excited before,” Beau said, his gaze on her tense face curious.

Their chauffeured limousine paused at the electronically controlled gates to the estate. Pete Drissell pressed a button on the dashboard to activate the release on the lock of the gates, and they slid open.

“You’re all lit up inside,” Beau murmured.

“I haven’t been home since I was fourteen,” Dany said, peering eagerly out the window past Marta’s plump profile. She wished now she’d insisted on sitting by the window. “This gate and stone wall are new since I was here last.”

“Is it? It’s always been here since I’ve been coming to Briarcliff.” Beau shrugged. “Of course, I’ve only dropped by to give reports on your progress when Anthony wasn’t at the apartment in New York. I suppose he decided that the estate needed more protection and privacy than it had when you were here.”

“I liked it better without it.” It was just like Anthony to build walls to shut the world out, Dany
thought, her gaze fixed on the rambling Tudor-style brick house at the top of the hill. The two-story mansion was built of mellow pink brick, and the lead-glass windows and graceful fanlight over the front door gave it an air of warm, open invitation. Why had Anthony bought it when it was sold after her parents were killed in that boating accident? It wasn’t his type of home at all. Even as a child she’d been aware of that. Anthony was as uneasy in cozy domestic surroundings as an unfettered panther would be.

“You lived here all your life until you were fourteen?” Beau asked, and immediately recalled the answer to his question. “Of course. Anthony was a friend of your parents, wasn’t he?” His forehead knotted thoughtfully. “He became your guardian when you were eight, and they’d been killed in that accident. He must have been very close to them to assume the responsibilities of a kid so willingly. Anthony isn’t what you’d call the fatherly type.”

“I guess so,” Dany admitted. That was, she knew, a distinct understatement. “I remember him
being around the estate occasionally when I was five or six.” But he hadn’t really been close to her carefree, jet-setter parents. Beneath that glittery veil of charm he drew about himself on occasion, Dany had been aware of a dislike that was close to animosity whenever the four of them were together. She’d sensed it with a child’s unwavering instinct and been surprised that her parents hadn’t felt it. She shouldn’t have been, she supposed. Her parents hadn’t been especially sensitive to anything that didn’t affect their own comfort and pleasure.

But it seemed totally absurd. Anthony couldn’t possibly have had any other reason than affection and a sense of obligation to her parents when he’d sued for guardianship of her. Dany shook her head in bewildered frustration as the limousine pulled smoothly to a halt before the front entrance. Why did she even try to fathom Anthony’s motivation for anything? He was a law unto himself, an enigma she hadn’t been able to solve for the past twelve years.

Pete Drissell, the chauffeur who was opening the passenger door and helping Marta and her
from the limousine, was a quietly courteous young man and as unfamiliar to her as the black-jacketed, gray-haired servant who opened the front door.

“Miss Alexander? I’m Paul Jens. Mr. Malik is waiting for you in the library.” His voice was meticulously polite. “He asked me to send you there immediately upon your arrival. I’ll have one of the maids take up your luggage to the room I understand you occupied previously. I’ll take Mr. Lantry and Miss Paulsen to their rooms now if they’ll follow me.” The polite query was really a command, and Beau gave Dany a resigned shrug as he allowed Marta and her to precede him into the spacious oak parquet–tiled foyer.

“Looks as though you’re destined to beard the lion in his den alone, sugar,” he said as he started to follow Paul Jens up the wide, curving stairway. “I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Don’t let him keep you too long,” Marta warned. “You need a nap. You didn’t sleep very much on that jet. You can’t afford to exhaust yourself unnecessarily with the kind of schedule you’ve got.”

“I’ll give Anthony your instructions,” Dany
said wryly as she slipped off her beige cashmere polo coat and draped it over her arm. “For all the good it will do me.” Evidently Anthony wasn’t even going to give her an opportunity to settle in and renew her acquaintance with Briarcliff before he demanded an explanation for yesterday’s debacle.

She dropped her coat on the long cushioned bench against the wall and walked quickly down the corridor to the library. She paused for a moment before an oval mirror framed in glowing mahogany to tidy her auburn hair into its usual neat bun on top of her head.
Heavens
, she thought,
I look terrible
. Her thin, delicate face was even more fragile-appearing than usual, and her dark eyes with their frame of extravagantly long lashes had mauve shadows beneath them. Not exactly a facade to inspire confidence when she was about to face a powerhouse like Anthony. Well, even at her best she’d never been able to confront him with the same poise with which she handled the public and the media.

She drew a deep breath as she paused outside the richly paneled oak door of the library. How
stupid to have this crazy fluttering in the pit of her stomach. He wasn’t going to eat her, for heaven’s sake. She raised her hand and knocked firmly on the door.

“Come in.”

He was sitting in a huge leather chair pushed back from the mahogany desk that was the central focus of the room. As usual, her first impression of him was one of dynamic strength and overpowering magnetism.

She could see all of him. He was dressed casually in jeans and a crew-neck sweater in a cream color that made the bronze of his skin and the satin darkness of his hair gleam with added vibrancy in contrast. There wasn’t an ounce of fat on the lean, graceful body, and the sinewy power of his shoulders and the muscular strength of his thighs only accented his supple slenderness.

There was a swift flicker of emotion in the silver-green of his eyes as he saw her standing waiting in the doorway, but it was gone in an instant. He gestured to the deep russet leather chair next to the desk. “Sit down, Dany. I’ve been waiting for you.” He pushed aside the pile of documents
he’d been working on. He appraised her coolly, from the hip-length, cowl-neck caramel-colored sweater and matching slacks to the darker brown short suede boots. “You’ve lost weight again. I thought you had when I saw you on television yesterday. Beau says you’re overdoing the practice and not eating enough.”

“Evidently he’s wrong—about the practice at least,” she said flippantly as she closed the door and strolled over to the chair he’d indicated. “Judging by the results of the competition yesterday, I need all the practice I can get.” She dropped into the chair and raised her brows inquiringly. “I gather that’s why I’m here.” She glanced down at the kilim carpet that ran almost the length of the library. “Well, if I’m to be called on the carpet, this is a very attractive one on which to abase myself. I don’t recognize it. It’s new, isn’t it?” She looked up at him, a hint of challenge in her expression. “There are quite a few changes since I left. A new wall and gate, different servants, new furniture.”