Pink Satin

and annoyed and even distressed her, but who had never threatened any harm to her. She had to be imagining it.

“Tell me,” he said quietly.

“Tell you what?” Greer folded her arms across her chest, moving a little away from him on stocking feet. She smiled. Happily. “Dinner was terrific. I’m sorry I was such bad company. Perhaps in the morning…”

“Tell me what you’ve been afraid of. I can make it go away, Greer. In fact, I’m the only man who can make it go away. And all you have to do is ask me.”

“Look,” she said firmly. He took a step forward; she couldn’t help herself from taking a step back. He smiled.

This was Ray, she tried to tell herself. A man she knew well. A man she saw and worked with every day.

“There was a man in the office the other day.” Ray’s voice was soothing, low, hypnotic. “He’s not for you, Greer. All this time, I’ve pictured you with men. But not him. You think he could stop what you’re afraid of? You think he could protect you from anything? All this time, have you once looked at me?”

“I want you to go,” Greer whispered. “Please, Ray.” He took another step forward. “Actually, I’ve regained all my energy,” she said brightly. Her voice cracked, and she tried again. “I think I’ll just go downstairs and-”

He was close to her now. His hands reached out to grab her shoulders, and Greer froze, her arms still tightly wrapped around her chest.

“Look,” she said. “I’m in love with someone else-”

He paid no attention. In slow motion, his face seemed to come toward hers, dark eyes gleaming, dry lips parted. His mouth suddenly groped for hers, and the texture of it felt strange, startling, alien. It was a simple pass. Greer had coped a thousand times with simple passes, but for some unknown reason, this time she was terrified, her body locked in shock.

“Please,” she whispered.

“You’re not afraid with my arms around you, are you, Greer? I would never, never hurt you…”

His mouth lowered again. She turned her head. His body was trying to press against hers. There wasn’t that much he could do with the barrier of her arms, but she still felt the contact of her breasts against his white shirt. And that contact brought a low gush of breath from Ray, and nausea for Greer.

“Ray. Look,” she said shakily, “maybe you’ve had too much wine. We’ll forget this, okay? I understand. Only please, just-”

“Just relax,” he whispered. “Just relax, Greer. Let it happen. So naturally, it will happen. All this time…”

She turned her head, and his lips landed on her throat. Greer jerked convulsively, her arms whipping out like flaying fan blades. “Don’t. Just get out of here. No.”

His arms tightened around her like cold bars. A rush of impressions exploded in her head. His hand on her breast, his black eyes with a devil’s light, the terrible silence of the room, their isolation, rage, fear, vulnerability, the single burning lamp on the table near the bed.

She twisted free, hearing her own frantic breath.

“The door is locked,” he said gently. “Relax,” he murmured. “You think I would hurt you? Never, Greer. I can take away what you’re afraid of. I’m the only man who can make it completely go away.”

He kept talking about that. What she was afraid of. If that was supposed to make sense, it didn’t. The only thing she was terrified of was him. “Ray. You know me. We’ve worked together for a long time.” Greer swallowed again, as he took another step toward her. “You’re an attractive man, but I don’t want this kind of-please. I’m sure you’ll find someone else…”

A low, shivery laugh. Greer darted for the door. His hand slammed against the wood even as she was fighting with the lock. She managed to release the chain, but couldn’t reach the knob.

There was a sick scream in the back of her throat, trying to get out, but she remained silent. How could she scream? This couldn’t be happening to her. It really couldn’t. Maybe if she’d invited it…but she knew she hadn’t invited it. She knew she’d in no way encouraged Ray. As an adolescent, she’d blamed herself for inviting the gropes and grabs that had scared her witless, believing she must have unconsciously asked for trouble. Then during her entire adult life, she’d protected herself by denying every damn possible sexual feeling-and she hadn’t invited Ray.

His hands were suddenly everywhere, grabbing at her blouse, groping for her skirt. Greer felt a rage suddenly explode inside her. A rage almost as old as she was. It wasn’t her. It was him. Dammit. Had he felt this way about her all along?

His voice rasped in a low, heavy bass. “You like it a little rough, do you, darling?”

Her knee failed. Her fist didn’t.

He jerked back, bent suddenly double; a hoarse cry of pain escaped from his mouth.

Greer opened the door, and backed away. “Get out. Now.”

Chapter Eleven

The minute Ray was gone, Greer pushed the lock button and then fumbled frantically to hook the chain. The room was so silent that she should have felt relieved. Instead, her limbs started trembling as if she’d just been tossed into the Arctic Ocean.

She couldn’t get warm. She ran her hands up and down her arms; it didn’t help. Her teeth were actually chattering. She walked to the bathroom, turned on the hot water and splashed some on her face. He’s gone, the voice in her head assured her. She was safe.

Only her heart couldn’t seem to stop pounding, and when she turned off the water, her white face stared back at her from the mirror. She winced, seeing the top button gone from her blouse, her skirt askew, the sick glaze in her dark eyes.

She turned away from the mirror, hurrying out of the blouse and her skirt, bundling them both up in her hands. A moment later, she was under the pelting spray of the shower, turned on as hot as her skin could take it. It warmed her up, but when she stepped out, she grew cold again.

She’d brought a cotton robe with her to the conference, and after she wrapped that around her, she dragged the blanket from the bed, draped it over her shoulders and curled up in the chair. If there was a thought in her head, she couldn’t bring it into focus. If she could just get warm… She doubted she would ever be warm again. It seemed the only thing that mattered.

When she heard a quiet knock on the door, her whole body went rigid.

Another knock.

When she didn’t answer, Ryan’s jaw tightened. “Greer. It’s Ryan, and I know you’re in there. Open the door.”

“Ryan?”

He waited, an endless period of time. He was pushing his hand through his hair for the dozenth time in the past three hours when the door finally opened.

He’d never seen such a fragile smile in his life. Her hair was damp and had the look of having been rapidly finger-combed. She was wearing a pink cotton robe that buttoned to the neck. Her face was pasty white, with twin spots of color in her cheeks, and he didn’t wait to see any more.

He bolted inside, slammed the door behind him and gathered her immediately in his arms. She was tense and cold, and suddenly her whole body was shuddering.

“I could hardly believe-what on earth are you doing here? How did you even know where I was? And why-”

“Hush, honey.” Her violent shuddering tore at his heart. His palm cradled her head, pushing her cheek to his shoulder. His other hand gently caressed her shoulders and back, kneading, massaging those terribly tense muscles. Finally, some of that shaking stopped, and she lay quiescent against him.

“Greer.” His voice was quiet and infinitely tender, but there was unquestionably a demand for an answer in his