White Satin (3 page)

He leaned back in the chair, one knee lifting to rest against the edge of the desk. His eyes were
narrowed thoughtfully on her face. “I like to leave my own stamp on my surroundings,” he said slowly. “I’ve never been satisfied to accept someone else’s choices or hand-me-downs”—a little smile tugged at his lips—“even if those hand-me-downs happen to be antiques.” The smile faded. “But as it happens, I did want to talk to you.”

“I gathered that from the way you pulled us halfway across the country with the speed of light,” she said dryly. She moistened her lips nervously and looked away from him to a point over his shoulder. There was such power in his dark, impassive face. When she was away from him, she always thought her imagination was playing tricks and exaggerating his forcefulness. There was nothing conventionally handsome about him. His cheekbones were too high and broad, his lips a touch too sensual, and his chin too firm for classical good looks. It made no sense at all that when combined, those features formed a countenance with a totally riveting fascination about it. Or was his most salient characteristic that air he always exuded of something leashed and waiting beneath the cool stillness? That charged stillness was even
more obvious than usual today, Dany thought uneasily. “Look, why don’t I just bring it out in the open? I blew the competition. I don’t know what was wrong, but I’ll find out and work myself to a frazzle to correct it.” She drew a deep breath and forced herself to look into those cool green eyes. They caught and held her, and she had a panicky feeling of something ebbing away deep inside her. “I won’t let you down, Anthony. I’ll be ready for Calgary.”

“You’re damn right you will be,” he said, a touch of grimness in his voice. “I’m going to see to that personally. There wasn’t any reason for you to not win yesterday. You’re a hell of a lot better technically and artistically than Margie Brandon. You were skating like a puppet on a string. You had more fire when you won the Juniors six years ago.”

“I said I’d work on it,” she answered defensively. “You don’t have to waste your time overseeing my training yourself. I know how busy you are.”

“So you told that ass of a sports commentator yesterday,” he said, a dark frown creasing his
forehead. “I’ll be the one to judge how busy I am, Dany.”

“Whatever you say,” she said with an effort at lightness. “You’ve become such a high-powered tycoon lately that I just thought it would be too much bother.” She paused. “You haven’t coached me personally since you hired Beau and Marta and sent me away from Briarcliff.”

“Do you think I’m not capable of the job?” he asked, an amused smile on his lips. “I believe I still have sufficient expertise to give you what you need.”

“No, I didn’t mean …” She stammered to a halt, cursing his effect on her. She was always such a quivering bundle of nerves around Anthony. “You know I meant no such thing,” she said with careful composure. “I’ve been told you’re still considered by most authorities to be the greatest figure skater who ever lived. When you retired from the Ice Revue to take over the Dynathe Corporation, you threw the whole sports world into shock.”

“Then you’ll accept my humble tutelage?” There
was a glimmer in his eyes that might have been laughter.

“When have I ever had a choice?” she asked lightly. “You know you’ll do exactly as you please both with me and my career, just as you’ve always done.”

“Not always.” His voice had deepened, and there was a sudden electric tenseness waiting beyond the stillness. “But I intend to do just that from now on. It’s only fair to warn you, Dany. I find I’m growing very impatient of late.”

“For the gold?” she asked, puzzled. “I told you I’d work myself to a frazzle. I realize it’s going to be more your medal than mine after all you’ve done for me. You’ll have your gold, Anthony.”

“No!” The word was spoken with such explosiveness, it startled her. “I have my own gold medal. I don’t want or need yours. When you win at Calgary, it’s got to be the crown of
your
achievements,
your
work. It’s got to be
your
victory, not mine or Beau’s.”

“Of course. I know that,” she faltered. Why was he so intense about it? His eyes were almost
blazing. “I just meant that I realize how much I owe you—”

“For God’s sake, shut up!” Then, as her eyes widened in surprise, he drew a deep breath, and the cool mask was once more in place. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

She felt a deep, throbbing hurt. “I’m not a child anymore, you know. I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t speak to me like that.”

“I know you’re not a child. Sometimes I think you never were, that you were born old.” His lips twisted. “Some of us are, you know.” He picked up the pen he’d tossed down as she’d entered and toyed with it absently. “That’s why it’s been so damn difficult for me at times. You may possess the inner maturity, but you don’t have the experience that would temper and refine it.”

“Difficult?”

“Never mind.” His fingers tightened spasmodically on the pen before he slowly released it. “After Calgary.”

“All right.” Her eyes were dark with bewilderment. She’d never seen Anthony this volatile
before. It made her more uneasy than ever. She started to rise. “If that’s all, I think I’ll—”

“That’s not all,” he said crisply. “Sit down, Dany. Your performance was a disaster yesterday, but that’s not why I brought you back from Denver.”

“It isn’t?”

He reached into the top desk drawer and drew out a folded newspaper. “This is why you’re here.” His lips were tight and his eyes glacier-cold as he handed her the paper. “You look exceptionally affectionate. How long has this been going on?”

She’d seen the picture the night before last in
The Denver Post
, but she hadn’t known it had been picked up by the wire services. “He’s only got his arm around me,” she said quickly, feeling the color surge to her cheeks. How ridiculous to feel guilty over something so innocent, she thought. “It’s not as if we were locked in a torrid embrace or anything. You can’t find anything objectionable in publicity like that.”

“Can’t I?” he drawled. He reached across the desk and plucked the paper from her hand, then
slowly and systematically wadded it into a ball and threw it into the wastebasket. “I do find it objectionable. Very objectionable. You haven’t answered me. How long has this affair been going on?”

“It’s not an affair,” she said, stung. “I’ve only been out to dinner with Jack Kowalt a few times.”

“That’s all?”

“For Pete’s sake, the theater, a movie now and then. What difference does it make?”

“It makes a hell of a lot of difference,” he said slowly, his eyes narrowed on her face. “No wonder you look so intimate in that photograph. If you’re not having an affair with Kowalt, you’re well on the way.”

“We’re friends,” she said, her dark eyes beginning to smolder. “He’s a sportscaster who’s been assigned to cover the Olympic figure-skating team, and I’m one of those team members. We travel the same circuit. Why shouldn’t we spend time together?”

“Kowalt is an ex–football player, and what he knows about figure skating could be put in a thimble. If he didn’t have Christy Moreno sitting in
that box holding his hand and supplying her commentary, he’d make a complete ass of himself.”

“He realizes that,” she said in defense. “He didn’t want the assignment, and he’s trying to learn as quickly as he can.”

“Well, he can learn from someone else,” Anthony said flatly. “Christy Moreno can spend all the time she wants force-feeding him expertise. You’re not to see him again.”

“I’m not to—” She couldn’t believe it. “What earthly right do you think you have dictating my personal life? How would you like me to say, ‘You aren’t to see Luisa anymore’?” Her eyes were blazing. “It
is
still Luisa, isn’t it? Or are you keeping another mistress now? You’ve had enough women to qualify for a gold in physical endurance over the years.”

“Yes, it’s still Luisa,” he said, his lips tight. “I’m glad you regard my stamina so highly, but I assure you there’s no strain, only pleasure, in that particular sport.”

“I wouldn’t know,” she said through clenched teeth. She stood up and leaned forward, her hands resting lightly on the mahogany desk. “But if I
decide to broaden my base of experience in that area, you can be sure I’ll do it. I’ll accept your orders in my professional life, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let you tell me who to see and not to see.”

“Or who to go to bed with?” he asked silkily.

“Exactly. It’s none of your concern.”

“It’s very much my concern,” he said with soft menace. “Your ex-quarterback will find that out if he tries to call any plays that I regard as foul.” His silver-green eyes weren’t cold but hot now, Dany noticed. “I’m trying to hold on to my patience until after Calgary, Dany, but I’d advise you not to push me. Don’t see him again.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said angrily. “I haven’t understood half the allusions you’ve made today. You’re not acting like yourself at all.”

“Aren’t I?” He smiled, a slash of brilliance that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “But how would you know, Dany? You’ve never known me. Not really.”

She knew that, and it was an aching emptiness inside her. “You haven’t let me.” Her voice was
shaking with confusion and anger. “You’ve never let anyone close enough for that.”

He became still. “I know,” he said quietly. “And it’s time for a change. I plan to let you come as close to me as you want to from now on. But I’ve waited so long, it’s made me a little savage. We only have a little further to go. Please don’t stretch my patience to the breaking point.” He paused. “Cross Jack Kowalt off your list.”

“Just like that?” She snapped her fingers. “Why should I?” She could feel her throat tighten with tears. “He gives me warmth and friendship and makes me feel I’m something special. Not only as a skater, but as a woman.” She drew a deep, quivering breath. “Why should I give that up because you’ve suddenly decided you’re generously going to allow me to be your friend? You might change your mind tomorrow and decide I’m not worthy of you. I don’t think you’d make a very reliable friend, Anthony.”

There was a flicker in his eyes that in another man might have been interpreted as pain. “We’ll have to see, won’t we? I don’t think I’ve been a bad friend to you for the past fourteen years.”

“You’ve given me everything,” she said huskily. “Almost everything.” She turned and walked toward the door. She faced him again and her eyes were suspiciously bright. “Where were you yesterday? I
needed
you.”

He shook his head. “No, you didn’t. You don’t need anyone. Remember that.”

He was wrong. She’d needed him and he hadn’t been there. “We’re not all as strong as you are, Anthony,” she said, lifting her chin proudly. “And we’re not all made out of ice.”

“You’re stronger than you think. Someday you’ll find that out.” His lips tightened. “And if it makes you feel any happier, at the moment I don’t feel anything close to being a man made of ice.”

“Where were you?” she persisted.

He parted his lips to speak but restrained his words. Then, his face impassive, he said, “As you told the commentator, I’m a busy man.”

The pain was swift and piercing. “You see? You wouldn’t make a very good friend,” she said shakily. “Friends understand you and are there when you need them, Anthony.” She turned, her hand on the doorknob.

“Dany.”

She paused, waiting.

“I understand you better than anyone in this whole damn world.” His words vibrated with force. “And I never said I wanted to be your friend.”

Dany closed the door behind her and leaned back against it for a long moment. Her heart was beating wildly, and fear, bewilderment, and an odd excitement were racing through her veins. That last, enigmatic statement couldn’t have meant what it sounded like. Anthony had never exhibited the slightest interest in her as anything but a protégée, a Galatea for his Pygmalion. No, it couldn’t be a sexual attraction that had made him behave so strangely tonight.

But if it had been? The excitement and panic increased by giant proportions. She wouldn’t know how to cope with the type of sexual chemistry
Anthony generated so effortlessly. Her feelings for him were so intense and confused, she couldn’t possibly sort them out. Admiration, hero worship, resentment, dependence. Love? Yes, that was there too. She’d loved Anthony all her life, and it had been a love that only fed the resentment. There couldn’t be any more hurtful or frustrating emotion on the face of the earth than loving Anthony Malik, with his leashed stillness and the veil of ice crystals he kept firmly between himself and the world.

A sexual relationship with Anthony, Dany mused. Oh, Lord, it would destroy her. Ice could burn, and Anthony had the reputation for keeping his ladies very contented—for as long as he kept them. However, his passion for them always cooled.

She wouldn’t be able to stand it if, with time, he grew bored and decided she wasn’t what he wanted after all. He might even decide to shut her out of his life entirely! She felt the panic rise up within her. She couldn’t imagine an existence without Anthony hovering in the background like a dark, enigmatic shadow. Strong, incisive, always
in control. What would he be like if he lost that control? She felt her breasts tauten beneath her sweater and a strange ache begin between her thighs. Desire.