Satin Pleasures

by Karen Docter

  “You’ll never let me forget that one, will you?” She’d been a precocious ten-year-old when she designed a leash of kite string to wrap around her pet seagull’s tail. “I didn’t raise Salty to teach him how to fly away with the first lady seagull he met. He needed to know where his home was.”

  “And he found it when you let him go.” Irene gently pushed her into a kitchen chair on the heels of the reminder.

  Handing Tess a bunch of red grapes to pull apart, she rinsed the apple and quickly finished paring it before sitting down, too. “You couldn’t control Salty’s nature, any more than you can control the look in your eyes when you’re in the same room with that young man you brought home today.”

  That’s what Tess was afraid of, her abysmal lack of control recently. Dan didn’t need to be in the same room with her to push buttons that had remained inoperable for years. Dreams. Fantasies. Need. Desire. The myriad of unfamiliar emotions that had surfaced in the past two weeks was unnerving.

  The man had quickly become a distraction—one she could ill afford to indulge. Or resist. She didn’t know if last night’s lovemaking was an aberration, a glorious night never to be repeated, or the beginning of an intimate relationship she knew in her heart would end badly. None of those possibilities thrilled her.

  Is that why you invited Dan to meet your parents today? So he’d see what your ex-fiancé saw? So he’d run away, too, and take temptation with him?

  “Are you engaged?”

  Tess was conscious of sticky grape juice dripping through her fingers as she stared at her mother. “I beg your pardon?”

  Irene shrugged. “The last time you brought a man to meet us, you were engaged to him.”

  “I don’t get engaged to every man I bring home,” she said in her defense, dropping the crushed grapes on a napkin and wiping her fingers.

  “Dan is the only man you have ever brought home, princess.” Tess’s father, Michael, stood in the doorway, his hands firmly wrapped around his canes. He slowly entered the room and began to move toward the head of the table. “The last one was an arrogant weasel who didn’t deserve you.”

  “Dad!” Embarrassment swept a path to Tess’s toenails before she realized Dan hadn’t accompanied her father into the room. “Do you think you could have said that a little louder?”

  “Probably. But I think I’d hear about it, if I did.” He grinned, his irrepressible sense of humor reminding her of the only other male to bring color and excitement and laughter into her life.

  “Where’s Dan?” She peered at the empty doorway, away from her dad’s shuffling gait, so she couldn’t succumb to the impulse to leap to his aid. He hated to have her fuss over him, especially since the last operation had freed him from the wheelchair.

  Michael set both canes in the umbrella stand against the wall before he eased into his seat. “He’s upstairs washing his hands.”

  Tess’s pulse skipped at the thought of Dan’s callused hands and how they played in water last night. She cleared her throat. “And, he’s washing his hands because...?”

  “They’re dirty?” Her father blinked, and then smiled excitedly as he always did before launching into his favorite subject. “I showed Dan my cattleyas and he mixed all the potting material I needed. After I separate some new pseudobulbs this afternoon, he’s going to help me repot the earlier batch.”

  Her eyes widened. “I’m sorry, Dad! I can’t believe I forgot about the orchids you wanted to plant last week. I got swamped at the office and didn’t—”

  “Tess.”

  “...remember that I promised—”

  “Tess!”

  “What?”

  “Forget it. It’ll be done today.” Michael smiled. “Dan’s a natural in the greenhouse.”

  It was one thing for him to see her dedication to her parents, but she hadn’t planned to take advantage of the poor man. “He’s going to think I invited him to brunch so I wouldn't have to work,” she muttered, thinking of Dan’s backache the previous day.

  Irene laughed. “Anyone who knows you knows that isn’t true!”

  “Your mother’s right, Tess.” Michael nodded. “I was telling Dan—”

  “Nothing I didn’t already know or suspect.” Dan, tall and too blasted appealing in the khakis and hand-dyed blue silk shirt he’d bought at the Wharf yesterday, strode into the kitchen and winked at the older man.

  A flush of desire suffused her body when Dan flashed one of his wicked smiles in her direction. She was tempted to ask which of her secrets her father had shared, but Dan already knew too much about her. Like where she was ticklish. And how to touch her to make her fly apart into a million pieces. “When I hear some wild story circulating the mall grapevine on Monday,” she teased huskily, “I’ll know who to blame.”

  “I don’t kiss and tell,” he murmured. His intimate gaze knocked her temperature up another couple of degrees before he broke eye contact. “All he said was that you work too hard. I agreed, so we decided you’ll have to rest on,” he eyed her chair pointedly, “your laurels today.”

  She smiled sweetly, stifling a childish need to stick her tongue out at him. It was bad enough when her parents ganged up on her. They didn’t need a new recruit. “If I rest on my laurels long enough, they’ll be calling me ‘Two Ton Tessie’.”

  Dan shook his index finger at her like a schoolteacher drumming a lesson into a recalcitrant child’s head. “But I’ll bet the stress card will be blue!”

  Clearly enjoying the snappy rejoinders between them, her dad motioned Dan toward the empty seat on his right. “Stress card?”

  Automatically pulling the rectangular card from the pocket of her red linen slacks, Tess as good as admitted to the world she put it on her person each morning. She liked to touch it periodically throughout the day, but wasn’t sure why. Every time she did, she thought of Dan and that wasn’t conducive to her concentration or calm.

  It wasn’t as if she believed the piece of plastic was doing her any good either. It had simply become a vendetta to make the silly thing turn the correct color. There had to be some trick to it that she hadn’t figured out yet.

  She tossed it negligently across the table to her father for examination and, avoiding Dan’s perceptive gaze, rose to set the table. “Dan’s got this idea turning that card blue should become my mission statement in life.”

  “Well,” her dad peered at the printed directions, “it seems to me there’s nothing wrong with reducing stress. You’re spread pretty thin lately. The last few times I’ve called you’ve been too busy to talk.”

  Dan offered a nod of agreement. “Her office hours could be turned into an Olympic marathon event.”

  “And it’s not like you’ve been taking particularly good care of yourself these past few months,” her mother added softly to the litany.

  Tess muttered under her breath. “Now I know how a lone fish feels flopping on a beach full of seagulls.”

  She picked up the tray of roast beef sandwiches her mother had prepared. “Dad,” she placed the tray in front of him, a conciliatory offering, “I’m launching a new program and it’s taken a little more of my time than usual, but I’ll be able to slow down after I get my promotion.”

  Her father lifted one eyebrow. “Pull the other leg, Tess. You get that promotion and you’ll have more work, not less. The worst part is you don’t really want the promotion in the first place.”

  “Of course, I want it.” She’d thought of little else for months, until Dan ran into her life and turned it topsy-turvy.

  “Why?”

  “You know why. I’ve worked hard. I’ve earned it.” She paused. “There’s the prestige, the challenge.” The money. The words hung in the air like dirty laundry, unsaid, but almost tangible.

  He leaned back in his seat. “But you’re not excited about it, princess.”

  “I’m excited.” The instant she opened her mouth, she knew she sounded too defensive.

  Her father zeroed in on her weak argument. �
�Excitement and anxiety are not the same thing. You’re anxious about the job, not excited at the thought of getting it, not like when you hired on with that Thorgram outfit. You had so many dreams then, of upgrading the center, of expanding. You beamed whenever you talked about it.”

  In her heart, she knew he was right. But, dreams weren’t reality and, when she heard about the successes this new surgeon was having with patients like her dad, her promotion became imperative. “That’s because I haven’t gotten it yet.” She turned away and crossed the room to the silverware drawer. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”

  “I don’t want you to get your hopes up, either. That’s why you need to know I’m thinking about not having the surgery.”

  Not have the surgery?

  For an interminable time she couldn’t move, the image of her father lying motionless on a hospital bed burning behind her eyelids. The memory of his face, white with pain and fatigue, still had the power to bring her to her knees. It was as vivid today as her resolve to erase it.

  The silverware heavy in her hand, she returned to the table only to find herself confronting the scrutiny of three pairs of eyes. “You’re joking, right?”

  Her dad shook his head. “Your mother and I have been discussing it for several weeks.”

  Confusion and hurt battled for expression. “But we spoke several times. You didn’t say anything about this!”

  Tess’s mom rose to take the utensils from her cramped fingers. “We wanted to tell you, but it didn’t seem right to break it to you over the phone.”

  Sinking into her chair, Tess curbed her inclination to look to Dan for support, as she had too often these past weeks. He was leaving, so she’d better start unraveling her entanglement with him. She wanted him to know her priorities...and, it looked like he was getting the full treatment. If this didn’t send him racing off in his precious new fishing boat, nothing would.

  Sweet mercy, but she was going to miss him!

  She caught her dad watching her and crushed her bleak thoughts. “This is about the money, isn’t it? I’ll get the promotion. I’ll get a second job if I have to, but I’ll have the surgeon’s deposit by the middle of September.” Nothing could stop her, short of her losing her job. A real possibility if Thorgram Group sold off its holding to another investment company. But, she’d cross that bridge when the time came.

  “Nothing’s settled.” Her mother patted her hand. “We simply don’t want to spend all that money unless we’re sure it’s the best solution for everyone.”

  Desperation churned in Tess’s stomach. “But, if there’s a chance—”

  “I spoke to Dr. Maxwell,” her dad said. “There’s less than a thirty-percent chance I’ll be able to walk without the canes after the surgery.”

  “It’s still a chance, Dad.” A chance to make things right for her parents again. To redeem herself. “Don’t do anything drastic yet,” she pleaded. “Think about it some more? Please?”

  Her father took time responding, but he capitulated with a nod of his head. “I’ll think about it, princess. But, you’ve got to do something for me in return.”

  Tess breathed a sigh of relief. “Anything.”

  “I want you to think particularly hard about why you’re going after this promotion. You can’t figure my surgery into it, not the money, not anything.” He paused. “When you’re done thinking about it, I want you to come home and convince me you’re taking the job because it’s what you really want.”

  She didn’t understand the point of the exercise, but she could refuse her father nothing. “Then what?”

  “Then, we’ll discuss my surgery.”

  ***

  Dan unlocked the door to his tri-level house and stepped back to allow Tess to precede him inside. He watched her cross the wide expanse that encompassed the middle section of the home. When she came to a stop in front of the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows facing west, he wasn’t surprised.

  Everyone, himself included, was drawn to the surreal view of the Pacific Ocean that could be seen from his kitchen and living room. With the house perched on the cliff, he often felt like a seabird hovering in mid-air, the endless sky his ceiling, the world at his feet. It’s why he leased the huge house. It grounded him, but didn’t destroy his illusion of freedom.

  The varied reactions the scene prompted in others also fascinated Dan. When he’d brought Aunt Mary here, she’d stood with her fists on her hips, her nose pressed to the glass to check what lay below, as if to say, “Here I am, mistress of all I survey.” Of the two students who helped him move in, one avoided looking out altogether, while the other threw his arms wide and laughed. All three reactions revealed something about their individual personalities.

  He studied Tess’s stance, the way she’d hugged her arms around her slender waist while she stared straight out the window. She didn’t blink at the miles of churning ocean beneath her. Which demonstrated how curiously withdrawn she’d become in the hours since lunch.

  Dan tossed his keys on the kitchen counter and deliberately broke the silence in the room. “Let me feed Colby. Then, I’ll give you the grand tour.”

  She acknowledged him with a vague nod.

  Frowning, he left the house through the kitchen door that led out to Colby’s dog run. The German shepherd greeted him with his entire body wagging, which made Dan feel like a heel. He’d put so many hours into the store lately he was paying the neighbor’s child to check on Colby every afternoon. The dog hadn’t been left completely alone the past two days. Yet, Dan took time to play with him before topping off the food and water dispensers.

  “Sorry, big guy.” He scratched the dog’s ears. “I can’t take you to the beach now. Maybe we’ll talk Tess into coming with us later.”

  If Dan had anything to say about it, she wouldn’t leave at all tonight. They needed to discuss what happened today...and what happened last night. The trouble was he didn’t want to talk at all. The idea of dragging Tess into the nearest bed had tantalized him all day. He wanted to make love to her through the night and wake next to her in the morning and each morning after that.

  All along, he’d suspected one night in her arms wouldn’t be enough. Now, it was a certainty. He’d be lucky to get her out of his system before he had to leave. “Although,” he said, absently patting Colby on the head, “our departure date isn’t exactly set in stone, is it, boy?”

  Realizing he was talking to a dumb animal when he could be talking to a sexy woman with too many shadows in her eyes, Dan left his dog chewing on a rawhide strip. He reentered the house and found Tess right where he’d left her.

  Approaching her, he reached into the breast pocket of his silk shirt and pulled out the stress card she’d forgotten to retrieve from her dad. He tucked it away again when a small voice at the back of his head spoke up. There are other ways to get rid of tension, Danny Boy. Both hers and yours.

  Dan carefully wound his arms around Tess, aligning his body to the back of hers. When she didn’t protest, he allowed himself the luxury of nuzzling her scented hair. If he dared, he’d carry her away and make love to her until she forgot to shut him out. But, Tess’s emotions were already in enough turmoil.

  He saw the confusion, the hurt, on her face when Michael made his announcement at lunch. That look hadn’t lifted in the last few hours. Dan had known her long enough to know she’d taken her promise to her father as seriously as she took everything else. She wouldn’t rest until she wrestled the problem into submission.

  Standing this close, he could not only feel the stiffness in her spine, but a fine tremor in her body. She was wound tighter than he’d ever seen her and he wanted to keep the damage to a minimum. “Want to talk about it?”

  “No.”

  He ignored the posted ‘stay out’ tone in her voice. “Sometimes it helps to talk. Your father only wants your happiness.”

  She yanked out of his embrace. “What do you know about this? Did Dad say anything to you about why he wants to cancel h
is surgery?”

  Dan thought about all he’d learned today. There hadn’t been time to assimilate all of it, but he did know one thing. Michael Emory had a lot to say about a lot of things and every one could be traced back to his little girl. The man adored Tess, as only a man with an only daughter he thought he’d never have could. “Your father loves you very much.”

  Her gaze slid away. “He told you everything, didn’t he?”

  “About what?”

  Looking out the windows, she said nothing.

  “Tess?”

  Resignation shaded both her eyes and her words. “Did he tell you it’s my fault? It is, you know.”

  “What’s your fault?”

  A succession of raw emotions raced across her face. “I had to have that damned car,” she finally blurted. “It wasn’t enough to have pretty clothes that were the envy of my friends. It wasn’t enough that I was going to one of the best colleges in the state.”

  “What happened?”

  She straightened, like she wanted to dam all the memories so they wouldn’t spill over. The dam burst. “I grew up thinking I was a princess! That’s what Dad’s always called me, his little princess. I lived in a fairy tale world where everything was wonderful and dreams come true.”

  Taking a deep breath, she continued more quietly. “Mom and Dad gave me everything I ever wanted. I didn’t see how often they did without, didn’t want to see their sacrifices.”

  “Most kids aren’t discerning enough. Why should you be any different?”

  Tess’s hand cut through the air, dismissing his excuse. “I was more blind than most! Mom used to leave the house before dawn to wait tables. She’d come home as I was getting up to go to school and serve my breakfast in her uniform.

  “And I can remember Dad holding down two jobs more often than not. He managed a nursery during the day. Then, at night, he’d clean buildings or drive a truck or fill in as a security guard.”

  She looked so fragile, he had to touch her. His hands flat against her lower spine, he pulled her into the cradle of his body. “What does this have to do with the accident, honey? Your dad told me the other car was speeding and ran a red light.”