BorntobeWild

by Lynne Connolly

  Riku suffered a shock. Could it be his sister had married for reasons other than generating wealth and power? The Shiraishi family was all about creating a power base. Marriages were contracted, not made for any other reason. His parents were the result of an alliance arranged by their parents.

  He refused to go the same way and eventually refused spectacularly. He’d rejected the place made for him—respectable artist, so his parents had cast him aside and refused to help him. Not that he’d asked.

  Pushing aside unwanted memories, he set himself to reconnect with his siblings and their partners. They stared at him as if he’d dropped in from another planet. So he settled on, “What have you all been doing with yourselves?”

  The waiter brought their starters, platters of hors d’oeuvres that he settled carefully in the center of the table. “You chose for me?” Riku asked mildly.

  “We’re having a variety of dishes served,” his mother said.

  Riku nodded. He’d had enough of his family making his decisions for him. Or trying to.

  The recitation came much as he expected. He lounged in the stiff-backed chair as best he could and watched the other guests in the restaurant. The central table sat under a huge Tiffany-style light, reminding him of the spotlight that focused on him every night.

  No, no more, not for a while, apart from the occasional appearance. No more moving from one hotel to another, no more sleeping in uncomfortable beds. When he went to Chicago for the studio sessions he’d already decided to lease an apartment. It looked as if Matt would produce their albums for some time to come, so it made sense to have somewhere he felt comfortable, rather than another hotel room. He’d had enough of those.

  Without conscious thought he reached for Cyn’s hand. She took it, curling her fingers around his briefly before releasing them. She accepted a plate of something brightly colored and bristling with cocktail sticks from Miwako, sitting on her left. She took one and passed it to Riku, who passed it on. He’d prefer to have something simple. Elaborate food made him antsy, especially pretentious elaborate food.

  “You’re a jeweler now?” his mother asked. She knew damn well what Cyn did, had made a comment about it the last time they met. That was such a conversational ploy, Riku ground his teeth. He lifted his wineglass and took a swig, uncaring that everyone else was sipping. He needed something a bit stronger but wine would have to do. This meal made him want to fidget like a child, although his outfit, while outrageous, was perfectly comfortable. He’d broken family affairs like this all his life. As a child he’d fidgeted and protested and shouted but nobody had listened to him ever. Not even about music. He was told what he should appreciate, what was acceptable, the prestigious composers and pieces. Thank Christ Zazz had broken that for him, with his passion for music.

  Cyn mentioned her stores and her products and touched her necklace. She was doing so well. The waiters came and replaced the starters with more substantial meals. Riku took some chicken and gnocchi, figuring he could push it around his plate a bit and send out for pizza when they got home. Normally he liked chicken and gnocchi but this didn’t look right, the chicken cut into fancy shapes, the gnocchi made into spirals and a cube or two. He preferred his food to look like what it was. If that made him a philistine, he was sorry but he decided this place was more fashion than substance. Expensively furnished and meticulously arranged, every inch of it. But totally tasteless.

  He could put up with it for Cyn. He wanted her to feel accepted, even if she didn’t feel welcome. But he’d arrived in this mild version of a visual kei outfit and they’d stared at him as if he belonged in an asylum. All of them, although they’d masked their expressions carefully in a second or two. Just long enough for him to register their disapproval. Nicely done.

  They hadn’t changed.

  “Interesting designs but wouldn’t wedding and evening pieces generate more profit?” Mrs. Shiraishi asked.

  “It depends how you define the profit,” Cyn said. “The adventurous pieces are on trend and hard to copy because they’re handcrafted.” She glanced at Riku, as if gathering courage. “And traditional wedding designs would bore me rigid. I don’t believe in doing what you should do because you think that’s what people expect. I believe in going where your enthusiasm and passion leads you.” She gave a bright smile, beaming. “After all, we can’t go back, can we?”

  His father spoke. Usually he let his mother take the lead but with her last statement Cyn had declared war, whether she knew it or not. “If our passion is also our ordained path, why rebel against it?”

  “You love making screws for machines?” Riku asked. His father had never shown any passion for anything except maximizing profit.

  “Indeed I do.” No, he didn’t. “Furthermore, we are renegotiating with our Japanese counterparts. You would not know this, Riku, but we have many contacts in Japan these days. We initiated the links when the Japanese economy began to soften a few years ago.” He inclined his head. “To answer your question, the challenges are interesting.”

  Interesting. Good word. Useful. Not descriptive of love though. Challenges, another useful word. His father didn’t mean facing his opponent in the tiltyard, although he’d give a substantial amount of money to see that happen. “You have an advantage in dealing with the Japanese.”

  “We do.”

  A sudden, jarring scream of “Riku!” from the direction of the restaurant entrance echoed through the relative quiet, wreaking aural havoc with the gentle light classical music playing in the background and the quiet hum of conversation. Then silence again. Riku didn’t move. Everyone else at the table including Cyn started and the smooth expressions disappeared for a moment.

  Riku watched, as he always did when something interested him. He marked the sounds and the different pitches because the sound delved deep inside him to a part he needed to discover more about. For his music. Nothing else. He turned aside any consideration he might have felt something, until he caught himself doing it automatically. Because he always did. No other reason except his psyche was protecting itself from harm.

  So what lay behind that part of him he never explored? Why did the single, uncontrolled shriek remind him of something from his childhood? Try as he might he couldn’t remember a specific example. He’d buried the memories too deep. He recognized the desperate cry. To be loved, to be wanted, to feel something.To get a response.

  A realization shot through him with the strength of an epiphany but it needed more consideration. Not here, not now but at least he’d recognized a part of him he needed to explore and resolve. Swallowing, he turned to Cyn.

  She was waiting for him. She smiled, just for him, then she turned to the rest of the table. “This happens all the time. He has to live his life through this.”

  “He chose it,” his mother snapped.

  That gave him a cue to smile. “Yes, I did. I chose it.”

  He watched her force the responding smile to her face, smooth her skin as if an invisible hand had done it. Creepy. “Several people have enquired about you, my son. My friends are impressed by what you have done and their children know all about you.”

  “You want me to meet them?” Not a difficult logical step to take.

  “Yes. Several young ladies. There is one I think you will like. Suzi Fukushima. She went to Harvard but she has a great interest in modern music. She is eager to meet you.”

  Riku froze in shock. If he wasn’t mistaken, his mother was matchmaking. “Trying to bring me back to the family fold, Ma?” He used the word deliberately, enjoyed the slight twitch of one thin, dark brow when it hit home. She didn’t encourage familiarity. Calling her Mom was strictly banned once the child reached double figures. Mother and even her given name were preferred. For that reason, Riku never did it. Ma seemed to annoy her the most. Good, because she had annoyed him.

  The waiters returned and his father waved them away irritably.

  “Not at all,” his mother replied steadily. “However, you are
the only unmarried one of my children and it is time you considered taking the step into adulthood.”

  “You consider marriage an adult thing to do?” Anger rose in him like a slow tide. “Does it matter who I marry?”

  “Someone who would suit you.” She barely gave Cyn a glance. “Someone who knows what they want in life and can be a suitable companion and assistant for you.”

  Cyn sat still as a stone. Riku couldn’t tell if she was angry or upset. He concentrated on his mother, leaned back, considered propping his booted feet on the table and changed his mind. This was not the time for childish defiance.

  “I don’t need an assistant. If I do I’ll employ one. A wife is something different, or don’t you agree?” He stared at her, making it clear he was comparing her words with her person. His mother had a fortune in her own right in a different sphere to her husband. She was a financier investing in businesses, partnering them when necessary. She’d always brought her work home but this was ridiculous. Intolerable.

  “I have Cyn,” he said.

  “She won’t want to follow you from place to place and put her own needs before yours.”

  He realized something else then. His mother was taking him seriously. “So you appreciate what I do now?”

  “You have found a business that suits you and you are making a success of it. I’m told your group is the best in the world.”

  “I reached the top so it’s okay that I threw away my classical career. Do you remember saying I’d never amount to anything?”

  A hush fell over the restaurant. Someone from the press could easily be here, listening and taking covert photographs. He didn’t care.

  “I remember,” his mother said. “You took a risk and not one carefully calculated. Big risks sometimes bring big rewards. I hope you have a financial advisor. If not, you know Haruki will oblige.”

  “I know.” His eldest brother handled most of the large clients to a private banking house. But not his. Never his. “I do, yes. I throw money at her and ask her to take care of it.” That more or less described what he did. Money was the means to an end, that was all. He ensured he had enough, gave some to good causes and lived off what was left. Very well indeed, as it happened. If they saw his home would they realize exactly how much he’d earned, especially recently?

  His mother gave him a tight smile. “I’m sure you do more. However, we’d be delighted to scrutinize your dealings, if you wish it. You should trust your family more than anyone else.” That was a warning. A promise, because he knew that was true. The Shiraishis never cheated. Only evaded and manipulated. That was all, he thought with a smile hard as his mother’s.

  “I’m fine thanks.” He gave her a slow blink, the kind a cat would give to someone he was trying to hypnotize. “As I am with the women in my life. I’ve had a lot recently.”

  He needed to reach for Cyn but he didn’t dare. She might not respond. He felt her, taut and tense, sitting next to him in uncharacteristic stillness. “Only one right now.” A notion struck him, a wild left-of-field thought and as it settled in his mind, it felt right, as if it belonged there. He was comfortable with it. “Maybe only one for a long time.”

  Then he did turn to Cyn. “Will you marry me, my darling Cyn?”

  Chapter Thirteen

  Cyn stared at Riku, aghast. “Marriage?” she choked out.

  “Why not?”

  Fear, she detected a shadow of fear in his eyes. Soon masked though and then all she saw was warmth. She didn’t know if he did it for real or if he’d put it there. If she’d learned one thing from this dinner, she’d learned Riku’s family knew how to control their emotions to the nth degree. They put practical considerations first, every time. All the time. When she recalled her happy, chaotic lifestyle, she knew it would never suit the Shiraishis. She could get as rich as the wealthiest person in New York and they wouldn’t approve, wouldn’t like her.

  Was that why Riku had come out with his outrageous suggestion?

  “We haven’t talked about it,” she managed, her breath shortening so much she found it hard to breathe. Panic raced through her but he needed her now. She had to keep herself together for him.

  “We don’t need to. I want you, Cyn. Nobody else.”

  Then his mother couldn’t force or coerce him to marry this Suzi person. When Mrs. Shiraishi had so calmly spoken of her, she wondered if it was a cultural thing, that Japanese families arranged marriages as a matter of course.

  Two of the spouses at the table tonight weren’t Japanese, so not some weird desire to be culturally pure. They just didn’t want her for their son. They wanted a sweet, biddable girl they could influence. Especially now Riku had money to add to the family wealth, although at this stage Cyn doubted money mattered much. Power, control, influence. Not necessarily bad but not something Riku wanted and for that reason she had to side with him.

  Besides, they’d hardly do it—get married—there and then.

  She wanted this moment. This perfect piece of time to keep in her heart forever. The time Riku asked her to marry him. She could say no later. “Yes,” she said.

  A floodgate opened deep inside her. His hold on her hands tightened and he drew her closer for a sweet kiss. It felt like an oath. “Thank you.” Keeping her hand tucked in his, he turned back to his family. He addressed his parents, both attired in immaculate, discreet clothes, not a hair, not a stitch out of place. “I don’t want to waste Suzi’s time,” he said.

  His mother’s voice chimed hard and spiky in the fraught silence. “It won’t last,” she said.

  “It will last as long as we want it to.”

  That meant he wanted her to play along, surely? Not take this seriously. He was making a point to his parents, which she should condemn because he was using her to make it. But when he looked at her with warmth in his eyes, when he smiled at her just like that, the intimate smile he usually saved for private times, then she couldn’t, God help her, resist.

  So she smiled back, gave him back the warmth. He snatched another kiss as gentle as the first then reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell. Glancing down, he thumbed through his contacts and hit a number. “When’s the next plane to Las Vegas?” He glanced at her and this time she saw daring in his eyes. Unholy enjoyment. Considering the humiliation his mother had put her through, Cyn was having some of that.

  She leaned back in her chair and watched the expressions. “I’m overjoyed to join the Shiraishi family.” Not quite true but the name had a great ring to it. Cynthia Shiraishi. A touch of Cyn, only she’d never dared call her line of jewelry something so cheesy.

  Mrs. Shiraishi gave her a curt nod. “We’re delighted to have you.” If Cyn was any judge her future mother-in-law was already calculating how to make this situation work for her. Civilized, so fucking civilized.

  Riku had grown up with this family, with these parents. His father didn’t say a great deal but he didn’t have to. His word mattered and what he said, he got. His mother matched his father in calculation and coolness.

  What a terrible upbringing, however rich. All that shit about birds in gilded cages sometimes happened. They’d reared him to expect the best, to do what they told him. Everything but love and spontaneity. It appeared they’d squeezed the fun out of their other children but perhaps appearances were deceptive and they did it their way.

  Not Riku’s way though. He was unique. Tall, slender, powerful, sensitive, brutal, he encapsulated a mess of contradictions. He made them make sense. She watched, fascinated, listening to Riku booking two seats in first class on the 11:00 p.m. plane to Las Vegas. They couldn’t possibly get there in that time. He was bluffing.

  Then he called a car. “A quick stop at the apartment,” he said to her, “But no nightwear. Not unless it’s very scanty.”

  Bastard. That low growl got her every time. Despite her tension, confusion and anger, he cut right through those emotions to the desire simmering inside her every moment she spent with him. They’d go home and send
the cab away. He could call his parents later and tell them he’d changed his mind or bluff some more.

  “Are we leaving the back way?” She assumed so. She’d bet people still waited outside. This was the kind of restaurant that often had photographers and fans waiting outside since it such a fashionable place. Not that she’d tasted much of the food.

  “No, we’ll go and face the hordes.” He stood and held her chair for her with exaggerated care. The way he helped her to her feet showed he’d forgotten nothing of her injuries. “One more thing,” he said, addressing everyone at the table. “You must have read Cyn was hurt in an attack on me. If you googled for me this morning you’d have seen the pictures. Not one of you asked about it or showed any concern at all. Cyn isn’t an accessory, she means a great deal to me. You’ll have to get used to her.”

  Which was the point really. He wanted them to think.

  The fug of shock and desire laced with pain cleared enough for her to see more of his tactics. He hadn’t planned this act of defiance. Giving his righteous family the finger. As such it wasn’t worthy of him but she couldn’t blame him, however she wanted to.

  Riku had had enough.

  The maître d’ crossed the floor to their table but Riku stopped him with a glance. He nodded at his father, almost a bow. “Thank you for the dinner. I found it enlightening.” At that moment he could be a samurai warrior, reluctantly deferring to his king. He wore the outlandish clothes with grace and bore his fame with patience. He was also an excellent actor. In the public eye most of the time, he’d probably learned to be.

  “It was—interesting, my son.” His father didn’t venture any opinion of Riku’s announcement. “We shall no doubt see you when you return from your vacation.”

  Had they decided to ignore it? It seemed so because his mother joined in. “A good joke, Riku. Do enjoy yourself.” She glanced at Cyn, distinctly disdainful. “Yourselves.”