Sheer Pleasure

by Patricia Rosemoor

  “Ride me, Annie! Think of the wind at your back and ride me hard!”

  Had whoever it was listened while she and Nate had come together in a single burst of brilliance?

  Disgusted, she slammed down the receiver, then took it off the hook while she picked up her dress and wrapped it around her body, an impromptu towel. Then she dialed Nate.

  At the other end, the phone rang and rang and rang until the answering machine kicked in. Wondering why he wasn’t there to answer in person—surely he’d had enough time to get home by now—Annie hung up without leaving a message.

  Had her stalker gotten into her home and wired it? Had he listened while they’d been having sex or had he savored it later, maybe masturbating while listening?

  What was to say he wasn’t here now?

  She looked around wildly and realized she couldn’t stay here alone. Not tonight.

  WHEN WOULD SHE COME to her senses and see him for what he was?

  Disconnecting the cell phone and stopping the tape, he sat in the car and watched her lit windows as she moved around her place. He didn’t have to see her to imagine her undressing. He didn’t even have to look at the photographs.

  Her image was burned into his brain. Her looks, her gestures, the tone of her voice. All of her. She was like a recurring fever that he couldn’t shake.

  Waiting for it all was getting more difficult than he had imagined. In the meantime, he’d found a way to entertain himself. And her.

  She liked the kinky stuff, he thought, fingers tracing the Spycorder in his hand.

  And he was just the man to give it to her.

  12

  “YOU CALLED THE POLICE? Finally!” Helen said, leaning over to hug Annie after she’d revealed all to her friends over early morning coffee.

  “For all the good it will do me,” Annie muttered, hating that she’d had to tell the authorities about the taped sex talk and turn over the letters and photographs. Well, all but the one.

  “Great attitude,” Nick said from the other side of the table. “They did take the report, though, right?”

  “Right. And they even seemed somewhat supportive until they asked me if I suspected anyone in particular. I told them about Clive Hardy and Harry Burdock. And then I made the mistake of mentioning Vincent Zavadinski.”

  Nick’s eyebrows shot up. “Uh-oh. Supporters of the alderman?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “What about our landlord?” Helen demanded. “Did you mention him?”

  “Not as a suspect, no!” Annie said.

  “You don’t think that he could have recorded your little tryst?”

  Annie had been mortified having to reveal all, but hiding things from her friends wouldn’t get her anywhere, she figured. Still, she couldn’t believe that Nate would do this to her.

  “If he had a recording device on him, then he hid it very cleverly,” Annie stubbornly insisted. “Those jeans didn’t hide much, believe me.”

  Helen shuddered. “Let’s not go there.”

  “And he couldn’t have planted a bug in that room, because he wouldn’t have known we were going to be up there.”

  Heck, she hadn’t known she would volunteer to look for picture frames.

  “So then how?” Helen asked.

  “One of the police officers told me there are all kinds of spy-type devices available to the public now. The pervert could have been sitting in some car right outside the building using one.” That she could have looked out her window at the bastard without knowing what he was doing creeped her out. “Besides, I trust Nate. I would trust him with my life!”

  “Well, you just may be doing that, honey,” Helen said, her expression worried. “Have you spoken to him about this?”

  Annie shook her head. “I called him first, but there was no answer. I didn’t want to leave a message. Then when the police took the report, I had to identify him as being the other person on the tape, of course. So I figure he must know about it by now.”

  “You didn’t give the guy a heads-up?” Nick asked, sounding horrified. “Coward!”

  “I know. I should have tried calling him again when they left. He probably won’t even want to see me after the police question him.”

  “Good.”

  “Helen!”

  “I’m sorry, Annie. I know you’re too involved to see it, but this Superman–Clark Kent thing seems studied to me. And isn’t it a coincidence that all these spooky things start happening to you right after you start seeing him?”

  Helen had a point, one Annie didn’t want to dwell on too closely.

  “What about it, Nick?” she asked, hoping for his support despite the mob connection he’d managed to come up with—to her knowledge, a connection he hadn’t shared with anyone but her. “Do you agree with Helen?”

  Nick studied the contents of his cup. “I think you ought to be careful, that’s all.”

  Careful how? Annie wondered. By looking over her shoulder everywhere she went? She was already doing that. Surely he didn’t think she shouldn’t be seeing Nate? He hadn’t backed up Helen, at least not directly.

  Knowing she should call Nate and talk to him about the situation, Annie left for the shop with the intention of doing so. But Gloria was already there. And while her personal business should remain personal, Annie feared that she might not be the only one in some kind of danger. This had started with the business itself, she thought, and for all she knew, Gloria could be next.

  As Annie told her about the phone call, Gloria’s eyes went round. But before the name Julio could fly from her lips, Annie told her about the police report as well.

  “It’s that no-cajones Clive Hardy! I told you to let me take care of him!”

  “The police will take care of him, if he’s the one.”

  Gloria pursed her lips. “Mmm-hmm.”

  “Don’t go getting any ideas now. But keep an eye out for him. And Burdock and Zavadinski. Let me know if you spot any one of them around the building today.”

  Though the security guard had every right to be there, unless he was fired, of course. Annie couldn’t exactly alert the authorities that he was hanging around the building when that’s exactly what he was supposed to do.

  Reminded of Nate, she set out to make that call. There was no answer—not at his home, not on his private office line. She thought to call the general number, but she really didn’t want to leave a message with his assistant any more than she wanted to leave a recorded one.

  Odd that he hadn’t called her. Surely the police had contacted him by now.

  An onslaught of lunchtime customers kept her from dwelling on the matter. Later that afternoon, however, when she got back into her office and unsuccessfully tried to reach him again, she started to worry.

  Was Nate angry with her for not getting in touch with him sooner? Or was he avoiding her for some other reason?

  No, she wouldn’t allow herself to suspect him.

  She attacked the pile of mail. Started sorting the bills from the bulk mail…until a familiar-looking envelope, one without postage, stared up at her.

  Hands trembling, she opened it.

  Dear Annie,

  How many people know the real you? How many people do you want to?

  We all walk around wearing one face, hiding another. Do you ever get tired of playing the game?

  When I look at you, I see you for what you are. Do you see me at all?

  An Admirer

  She couldn’t believe it—this on the heels of the recording. Helen had been right about one thing: her secret admirer was a weirdo.

  And so was she for having once seen the letters as playful and sexy.

  How wrong could one woman be?

  ANNIE SPENT the latter part of the afternoon shopping for supplies. After receiving the latest missive, she’d gotten an idea for the display window.

  And then, figuring she would be working late into the night, she had an early dinner at a local eatery—a big dinner since she’d sk
ipped both breakfast and lunch. While doing so, she sketched out her ideas.

  She headed back for the shop just before closing time.

  “Any calls?” she asked Gloria, who was getting ready to leave.

  “Not a one.”

  No Nate. Her chest tightened.

  “All right, then,” she muttered, setting down her bags near the window.

  Standing at the front door, Gloria crossed her arms and tapped her foot. “You ain’t planning on staying here alone.”

  “Better here than home.”

  “Then I’ll just have to stay with you.”

  “No, you won’t. I’m fine. And I need to concentrate.”

  “Annie, I don’t like this.”

  “Well, I don’t, either,” Annie admitted. “I don’t like someone stalking me. I don’t like being afraid. I don’t like looking over my shoulder every minute. But these are the facts of life at the moment, and I will survive it!” She’d never seen Gloria gape at her in such surprise before. “I appreciate your concern and your loyalty, but this is something I have to handle on my own.”

  Muttering something in Spanish under her breath, Gloria opened the door and started to leave. Then she stopped herself and wagged her finger at Annie.

  “Don’t you go getting yourself into no terrible trouble, or I ain’t never gonna forgive you. And if you want a place to stay tonight that isn’t yours, you know my number.”

  “Gloria, you mean a lot to me, too.”

  “Humph. Then lock this door behind me.”

  Annie did as she was ordered and waved goodbye to her worried employee through the glass. Then she turned and went straight to the back door, making sure it was locked, as well.

  She’d called the authorities, for all the good it had done her. They’d been honest with her. They would talk to people, but unless there was an actual threat….

  In the meantime, she wasn’t going to give up her freedom—always having to be protected by one of her friends, never being alone or going about business as usual. She had a life and she was going to live it.

  Trying to put her stalker out of mind, she got down to work on her new display, one meant to explore everyone’s notion of identity.

  On a large piece of board that would serve as a backdrop, she sketched in the outline of Chicago as seen from the lake—myriad skyscrapers in comic-book style. By the time she was satisfied with the results, several hours had passed. Midnight had come and gone without her realizing it.

  Traffic along the street was minimal. Still, the possibility of an occasional passerby prompted her to turn off the store lights. Annie wanted total privacy. A surprise for the morning commuters who would stop and, hopefully, be intrigued and amused.

  She worked in the window itself, by moonlight and the blue-green cast of the streetlamps. Every so often she would stare out through the gauzy, makeshift curtain, wondering if anyone was staring back. Not that anyone could see her without a light in the display area itself. Not unless the person came right up to the glass.

  After setting the backdrop in place, she dressed the female mannequin and draped her across a settee dragged out from one of the dressing rooms. Finally Annie got to the male mannequin. She had barely finished dressing and posing it when she realized she wasn’t alone.

  Starting, she whipped around to find Nate watching her from the darkened center of the store. He was leaning against a support pillar, arms crossed over his chest.

  Her heart thumped as she looked him over. He wasn’t smiling, and his stance suggested that he was majorly upset.

  “How long have you been watching me?” she whispered, curling her hands into fists so they wouldn’t shake.

  A familiar question. Nate always seemed to be trying to get under her skin.

  “Not long.”

  “How did you get in?” she demanded. “And don’t try to tell me I left the back door open again, because I checked it after Gloria left.”

  “I used my passkey.”

  As he had the night of the gallery opening? Had he lied then? she wondered.

  He was angry. She could see it in the taut line of his body as he moved toward her, recognized it in the timbre of his voice. Not that he’d raised it. But he couldn’t hide what he was feeling. Not from her.

  A frisson of unease slid up her spine, while other, more enticing sensations attacked her tender parts. She was torn between fear and desire.

  And then Nate took one last threatening step closer and demanded, “Why did you keep that call you got last night to yourself, Annie? Why send a couple of cops after me?”

  “I’m sorry.” Getting control of herself, at least for the moment, she said, “I did try to call you.”

  “Not hard enough.”

  “You didn’t answer!” She couldn’t help but be on the defensive. “You had enough time to get home. More than enough time! So where were you?”

  “Here, as a matter of fact.”

  “In my shop?” She looked around wildly, as though she could see signs of trespassing that she’d missed earlier.

  “The janitor’s closet. I wanted to know what happened that you got locked in.”

  “Well?”

  “The locked jammed. It was as simple as that. I fixed it and set the door back on its hinges.”

  Annie supposed he had—not that she’d thought to check the door today. But she believed he’d fixed it. He was a hands-on kind of landlord.

  Again he asked, “So why didn’t you keep calling until you reached me?”

  “I did try today, both at your home and on your private line at the office. You didn’t answer.”

  “You couldn’t leave me a message?”

  “I don’t usually leave messages about my sex life.”

  Again she felt threatened as Nate roughly said, “It’s not just sex between us, Annie! And I’m not just anyone!”

  “Then who are you?” The words slipped out too fast to stop them.

  “Is that it?” He sounded incredulous. “You didn’t make the effort to let me know what was going on because you don’t know who I am?” He moved into her comfort zone, backing her against a pillar. “I know who you are, Annie. Why don’t you know me?”

  When I look at you, I see you for what you are, the latest missive had said. Do you see me at all? Trepidation dried up her mouth and she stood there mute, her pulse jagging through her. Could it be…?

  “Don’t you find it odd that you believe what’s inside is so important that you can’t actually see me as a whole person?” Nate asked. “Why is that, I wonder?”

  “I don’t know what—”

  “Don’t deny it. What’s so wrong with Nathaniel that you can’t see past the suit to who I really am? All of me. Nathaniel and Nate together. We’re one and the same person, Annie. Just as the hidden woman behind this disguise of yours is the real you.” He indicated her usual nondescript outfit of the day. “Everyone is more than one person. So why do I have to play dress-up for you? Why do I have to be Nate for you to want to be with me?”

  “I don’t know,” she hedged, then lightly added, “That seductive bad-boy image would probably appeal to any woman.”

  “But you’re not just any woman. Not to me.”

  Then he looked past her to the display.

  Wearing romantic lounge wear, the female mannequin was in a pose of distress, looking over her shoulder, as if she feared something or someone behind her. Her face was covered by a fancy feathered and sequined mask to give her an added air of mystery. Turned toward her but at a slight distance, the male mannequin was dressed in a suit with hat and glasses, but was pulling at his tie, as if to remove it. A bit of blue material showed above the pristine white shirt.

  She meant for his disguise to be peeled back a layer at a time, a day at a time. And she planned to change the lounge wear to display the new line, while keeping the same mask on the mannequin.

  Nate stepped into the shop window, away from her. He tugged down the male mannequin’s tie a
nd opened the shirt, then took a good look at the garment beneath the business gear. When he cursed under his breath, Annie swallowed hard. Of course he recognized the Superman costume.

  “Is everything a game to you?” Her Superman–Clark Kent lover sounded outraged.

  “I thought that was your specialty.” She licked her lips, but her mouth was dry. “Dangerous games.”

  “Maybe I really am dangerous, Annie.” His voice went low. “Maybe you recognize that and that’s what really turns you on about me.”

  Her heart thudded, but she protested, “No.” She might be afraid, but not because she feared he would hurt her physically. “I don’t believe that.”

  Their relationship was all pretend. All fantasy. That’s what turned her on.

  Reality romance was a big washout as far as she was concerned.

  “Then what is it?” His gaze ground into her. “What do you have against expensive suits? Or should I say against the men who wear them?”

  He’d figured it out sort of. She guessed it wouldn’t hurt to tell him the rest. “Alan Cooper, law student, the only other guy I ever fell for.”

  “Why? What did he do to you?”

  His intensity forced her to relive that humiliating, world-shattering moment.

  “After I, uh, slept with him, I learned that he’d had a bet with his fraternity brothers. He had to sleep with the woman on campus most unlikely to lose her virginity, and make her fall in love with him. Alan had me seeing stars and dancing on air and dreaming of a shared future, while he was laughing at me with his friends. I heard him,” she admitted, remembering as if it had happened yesterday rather than years ago.

  “So the bastard broke your heart and I remind you of him?”

  Unable to look at Nate directly, she admitted, “Nathaniel does sometimes.”

  “So he scares you?”

  Remembering Nick had said the very same thing, she shrugged her shoulders. “Maybe.”

  “Then you’re in love with him? Me? Us?”

  “I never said that.”

  “Then say it, Annie.” Again, he backed her up against the support pillar at the edge of the display. “What are you waiting for?”