Pink Satin

night will be fine…” No problem, she mouthed to Ryan, the caller was a friend.

He stuffed his hands loosely into his jeans pockets, but hovered until she hung up the telephone. After that, he took on the dishes while she made coffee.

An hour later, she was curled in the old wicker rocker, and Ryan, was stretched out on the couch. Tuesday evenings were usually a boring midpoint in the week, but not this one. Greer couldn’t remember feeling as at ease and content in anyone’s company on first meeting.

He was from Maine, he told her, a simple old-fashioned backwoods town not far from the Atlantic coast. He clearly loved the place. Unfortunately, the town offered limited opportunities for a mechanical engineer; he’d worked for six years for one company, but there’d been no hope of further advancement. He was interested in starting his own firm eventually, but he didn’t have the varied experience he needed to do that just yet-and Laughlin had snapped him up after seeing his qualifications, grateful that he was willing to move to North Carolina.

Of the women in his life he said nothing, Greer noted, but the longer she listened to him, the more she was conscious that first impressions were deceiving. His looks weren’t ordinary at all. His eyes often sparkled with fine dry humor; he had an endearing crooked grin; and his body…there was something about that body that reminded her of lumberjacks or shipbuilders. Energy, vitality, the lithe way he moved…he was so clearly a physical man.

For an instant, she could picture him being very physical. A slim, svelte blonde popped into Greer’s imagination. A very sexy lady. A totally naked lady. She suited him very well, Greer mused. In a lover, he would clearly want a physically expressive woman, an uninhibited mate, a boldly sexual match for his own-

Abruptly, she swallowed, feeling a faint heat climb up her cheeks. Behave yourself, Greer. She always analyzed people on first meeting, but she rarely fantasized about their sex lives.

“…enemies?”

Greer blinked awake and rapidly reached for the half-full coffee cup on the table next to her. “Pardon?”

“Have you thought about who might be making those calls to you? What about this Daniel, for instance?”

She had no interest in returning to the upsetting topic of The Breather, but Ryan’s question made her smile. “Daniel wouldn’t swat a mosquito on his brave days. I’ve known him for several months; he’s a very brilliant accountant, but he’s unbelievably shy.”

Ryan gave a private snort. Shy was the easiest game in town to pull off for a man on the make; it immediately aroused a woman’s protective urges.

And a woman’s special vulnerabilities immediately aroused a man’s protective urges. He was having a bad case of that problem, looking at her. Greer was curled up in the chair like a kitten. Barefoot, her hair softly ruffled, her skin clear and smooth and without makeup, a sleepy, vulnerable look in her eyes…she would look very much like that after she’d just made love. His libido stirred restlessly. Moments before, he’d been certain she’d been thinking of a man, and he’d felt a sharp, unexpected surge of jealousy.

“If you’re sure it isn’t Daniel…there must be other men?” he questioned casually.

“Enemies? I have tons of enemies,” Greer said wryly. “I’ve thought about Steve McManus for one-he’s the guy I stole the cat from.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“He lived two buildings down the street, left the cat alone for weeks at a time. He knows I took Truce because I left him a note.”

Ryan cleared his throat. “Perhaps you could come up with a more dangerous enemy than that.”

“Now, just because you don’t like cats-”

“It did occur to me that McManus might have been grateful.” Ryan raised his hands defensively at Greer’s look of mock outrage. “Sorry. Of course you’re right. He must hate you for life for stealing his cat, but in the meantime…”

Greer paused thoughtfully. “Well. There’s John. My ex-husband,” she explained. “I couldn’t really call him an enemy, but he wasn’t very happy over the divorce.”

“John,” Ryan echoed irritably. There had to be a reason why he’d never liked that name. “How long have you been divorced?”

“Four years. I still see him on occasion, though.”

“You were married for a long time?”

His questions would have struck her as prying if he weren’t so obviously investigating her crank calls. For months, Greer had worried in private as to who her caller might be. She’d never discussed the problem with her family because she hadn’t wanted to worry them. Ryan was a stranger, but he was also clearly a rational, objective man. And as long as he was willing to listen…

“John and I were married for two years,” Greer admitted hesitantly, and then started talking in a rush, anxious to hear Ryan’s opinion when he understood the relationship. “The thing was, like most psychology majors fresh out of college, I was very good at taking on the misunderstood, the unwanted, the lost souls. John was one of those. Rotten childhood, parents who didn’t care…” Greer bit her lip absently and gave Ryan a small smile. “I was very sure that an understanding woman was all he needed to turn his life around. Only two years later, I wasn’t quite so fresh out of college. Perhaps he was a lost soul, but he was also incurably lazy. And very happy to be taken care of full-time in high style.” She added wearily, “I was still paying off his debts two years after the divorce. It wasn’t the best of times.”

“You think he would call you now-just to harass you?”

“No. But you asked about enemies. I’m trying to give you my best list,” Greer said wryly, then snapped her fingers. “I forgot about Andrew.”

“Who the he-on earth is Andrew?”

Greer’s eyebrows shot up in amusement at the way Ryan’s fingers were suddenly drumming a tattoo on the couch. “My brother-in-law,” she answered mildly. “My sister died six years ago in a traffic accident. Their daughter, Robin, is ten now and a confirmed runaway. Andrew isn’t a bad father, but he’s busy, and Robin’s a little witch at finding clever ways to get his attention. Her favorite trick is to pack a suitcase and cart it across town to me.”

“To you,” Ryan echoed.

Greer nodded. “Andrew always knows where she is, but he does get upset, and we’ve had a few words now and then. I probably do cater to Robin too much, but if he’d give her more of his time… she needs his attention.” Greer’s eyes took on a fierce, protective light, then faded. “Anyway, he’s not too fond of me, but still. In terms of the identity of my breather, I really don’t think…”

Neither did Ryan. Strays cats, stray men, stray children, he thought dismally. Quite a hit list. He glanced down to where the cat had leaped on his stomach and was kneading his shirt, staring up at him with limpid eyes. “You work more with men or women?” he questioned abruptly.

“More with men, I suppose. That must sound strange in the lingerie industry, but it isn’t, really. It’s a business like any other business. Anyway, I’ve worked with everyone there for years.”

Ryan fell silent, pensively stroking the cat until the feline raised his chin with a rumbling purr and Ryan realized what he was doing. His hand dropped abruptly, and he shot Greer a deadpan stare. “You’ve got one hell of a list of enemies, Greer. Sounds to me like you need a permanent bodyguard.”

Greer chuckled, feeling immediate and inexplicable relief. She’d never wanted to believe that either Andrew or John was her caller, but they were the closest she had to suspicious characters in her life. “There’s also the man I beat in a chess tournament in college-”

“God. The hate list is still going on?”

“And I bumped a guy’s fender when I was sixteen.”

“Finally, someone with cause,” Ryan said dryly, and Greer chuckled again. “How about the other men in your life besides this Daniel?” he asked matter-of-factly.

Greer stretched, weary from sitting still for so long. “I go out with a few others, but no one who would do anything like that.”

Ryan made a small sound.

“What’s wrong?” she asked immediately.

“Nothing. I was just thinking…”

“What?” Greer leaned forward intently.