Hanging up, she drew a deep breath and glanced toward the doorway, girding herself for whatever would come next. She couldn't quite believe she was about to let this happen, and she didn't know where Penny the Sweet One had disappeared to, but she wanted this. Even with Patti's interruption, even with her fears that it had been Martin calling, her body still hummed with the passion it seemed only Ryan loosed in her. She bit her lip as she rounded the corner, suddenly feeling as wild and sexy as he kept telling her she was.
* * *
5
The instant Penny met Ryan's eyes, she knew everything had changed. He wore that torn expression she'd seen on his face before. He'd picked up her blouse and now held it out to her. She took it, painfully aware of the silence now filling the room; he'd turned the music off while she was away.
He lifted one hand to her cheek and his voice came low and deliberate. "I love the way you look right now, Penny. And I love how wild you are, even if you don't see it. But I have to go."
"Oh." She only hoped the hurt bubbling inside her didn't show.
"I like you so much; you don't know how much. But this is-"
"Wrong?" she supplied.
"Right," he said, meeting her eyes briefly before lowering his gaze. "I can't risk my job this way. I wish I could, but I can't."
"I understand," she replied, but her voice sounded hollow to her because she still wanted him to stay, still wanted things to be the way they were when they forgot about Martin and Schuster Systems. Suddenly feeling naked in her lavender underwear, she thrust her arms into her shirt, then held it closed in front.
Ryan moved to the desk to retrieve his laptop and jacket, then hurried back toward the door. He paused to lower a conciliatory kiss to her forehead as he passed by, but Penny hardly noticed, too stunned by how quickly things had shifted. A second later, the door shut behind him and she felt more alone than she had in a very long time.
She knew why he had to go; she knew it made sense. And earlier, she'd been all about trying to do the sensible thing, for the sake of his job, and for Martin's sake, too. But as she buttoned up her blouse, she still ached inside. As it turned out, there was something worse than making a move and getting shot down-having him make a move, then change his mind.
He'd left her on the night after they'd had sex in the limousine, and that had been fine. In fact, it had been the only reasonable thing about the entire evening. He'd left her again last night after the passionate kisses they'd shared and she'd still understood why it had to be, and that had strengthened her.
But tonight, everything was different. Maybe because she felt as though she really knew him. Maybe because of the reminder that he was aware of her fantasies; no one else knew those secrets and it built a certain, unplanned intimacy between them. Maybe because throughout the day, they had talked, shared things, and she'd started feeling comfortable with him, and she'd thought that mattered. Maybe the physical attraction she felt toward him, even the irrational sense of infatuation, was beginning to be more.
She sank into an easy chair and buried her head in her hands. An emotional attachment to this guy-a guy who worked for Martin-was the last thing she needed. Her insides twisted with knowing that when forced to make a choice between her and the job, he chose the latter.
And yet, what did she expect? Who was she to him? Nobody but a girl who had thrown herself into his lap in a dark car, ripped his clothes off and attacked him. How had she gotten herself into this mess?
Penny took a deep breath and rose to her feet. She wasn't going to think about this anymore; she couldn't right now. She had something more important to do, something which suddenly couldn't wait a moment longer.
She didn't know Martin's conference schedule, but she knew she wanted to get her loose ends with him tied up this very minute. At least then she'd feel a little less guilty. Things were messy enough without his proposal still hanging over her head.
He was staying at the Flamingo Hilton, so she called 411, got the number, and dialed furiously. "Martin Schuster's room please," she said to the nasal-sounding operator. As she waited, she walked with the cordless to the foyer and clumsily maneuvered back into her shorts, deciding the conversation would be easier without reminders that she'd just had her clothes off for someone else.
Settling on the couch, she tensed when the ringing abruptly ended, then took a deep, preparatory breath … only to hear a ridiculously pleasant-sounding female voice say, "The party you are trying to reach is unavailable. Please leave a message."
Martin, I'm sorry, but I just can't marry you. Penny opened her mouth to speak, then let out a huge sigh and hung up, every ounce of boldness evaporating. Telling him on the phone was one thing, but leaving it on an answering machine just wasn't human, no matter how desperate she was for closure.
"Oh, would you just call me, you idiot!"
Staring at the phone in her hand, Penny tried to get hold of herself. Her entire body still tingled with crazed mixtures of excitement and disappointment and anticipation and failure. She felt her eyes growing wet, but refused to cry, and when a tear rolled down her cheek, she obstinately wiped it away. Everything inside her felt crazy.
Eat, you need to eat. It was late and her blood sugar was probably low.
As she moved to the kitchen, still feeling defiant, Penny decided she'd had enough pot roast for one week. Given the unusual circumstances of the evening-and of her life lately-she was going to throw all dietary caution to the wind and indulge herself.
Grabbing a tray from the pantry, she loaded it up with horrible, wonderful things. A plate of brownies. A tub of French vanilla ice cream. A dish of strawberries and an extra large bowl of whipped cream.
Now, she told herself as she carried the tray to the bathroom, calm down. Be good to yourself. Try to enjoy this. Try to feel like you again. Normal Penny, who owned a business and behaved professionally at all times. Good Girl Penny, who didn't sleep with strangers. Pretty Penny, the Sweet One, the apple of her grandpa's eye. Yes, it would be good to get back on more familiar emotional ground.
The warm peach tones of the old-fashioned bathroom soothed her instantly as she balanced her tray on the rounded edge of the big claw-footed tub. That's why she'd chosen the color, to remind her of sunsets and seashells and the way the sun's warmth could lull you into total relaxation. Going to the old pedestal sink, Penny splashed cool water on her face, glad she'd conquered her tears, then poured a long stream of Sunny Peach bubble bath beneath warm running water. Finding a scrunchy, she knotted her hair in it, then scurried to the foyer to turn the radio back on. The same station from earlier still played slow soul. She didn't bother changing it, though, concentrating on the song's tranquil rhythm.
When the tub was almost full, she turned off the water, slipped out of her clothes, then stepped into the luxurious bubbles. Sinking into the suds, she leaned her head back and let the music sedate her. She occasionally reached for a strawberry or brownie, dipping it in either the softening ice cream or the smooth whipped cream before putting it in her mouth.
As the sudsy water caressed her skin, however, the rich foods somehow heightened her sensual awareness. The sensations hardly brought back Normal Penny, but instead seemed to invite the newer, more daring version of herself she'd so recently uncovered.
After eating her fill of the sweets, she stretched out in the tub, sinking deeper into the moist bubbles, and let her mind begin to wander. She thought about Ryan and the foyer, although she refused to dwell on the hurt that still lingered, so instead she found herself imagining the things that might have happened if the phone hadn't rung. She even imagined placing a sexy call to Ryan, using her feminine wiles to somehow lure him back.
Then other outrageous pictures entered her head, more fantasies, some she was familiar with already, others that were brand-new. Just envisioning them somehow made her feel unfettered, free. Admittedly, none of this was doing much to lower her level of frustration, yet she couldn't stop her mind from exploring all the stirring new possibilities that floated through her thoughts.
And then she gasped, bolting upright in the tub and sloshing water over the edge.
Was it possible? Could it be true?
All these fantasies, running rampant in her head … The sexy undies she always wore, even though no one usually saw them … And she'd seduced a man in a limousine. She'd done that, really made it happen.