“She asked if you’re enjoying your sunomono,” Jenny told him.
He assumed she meant the grated vegetables he’d just sampled. “Oishii,” he responded. Delicious.
Izumi smiled and placed yet another series of dishes in front of him.
Jenny, he noticed, seemed annoyed rather than pleased by his reply. And he was starting to suspect that she hadn’t brought him here to enjoy the ceremony but because she expected that he’d be bored by it. Rather than be offended by the realization, he was only more intrigued. As interesting as the rituals of the tea ceremony were, he found his reluctant companion even more so.
In his thirty-four years, he’d indulged in several casual affairs and a few more serious relationships. He’d even been married once. But he couldn’t ever remember feeling the kind of basic pull toward a woman that tugged at him now.
Unfortunately, he was in Tokyo for the merger and she worked—however indirectly—for TAKA. While a personal relationship might not result in a direct conflict of interest, it would complicate the situation for both of them.
Besides, she didn’t strike him as the type of woman to indulge in brief affairs and he wasn’t going to be in Tokyo long enough to offer her anything else.
So resolved, he decided to use this time of contemplation to refocus his thoughts, mentally organize his questions and concerns about the merger. He was annoyed to find that his thoughts refused to focus.
In the past his attention had always strayed to work and work-related issues, but this time he found his attention straying to the woman beside him. While he allowed himself the occasional distraction of a woman—of his choosing and on his timetable—he’d never allowed himself to be distracted by a woman. And the women he’d chosen had always been those more interested in blowing off a little steam than a relationship, and that had always suited him fine.
Since his divorce, shallow and temporarily satisfying interludes were all he’d wanted or needed. Until a few months ago when he’d crawled out from between the silk sheets of a district court judge with whom he’d spent the night and suddenly wondered if that was all he could hope for in his life.
Izumi’s gentle voice interrupted his thoughts.
“She noticed that you’re frowning,” Jenny told him.
“Sorry,” he apologized automatically. “Sumimasen.”
“Don’t be sorry,” Jenny translated as their hostess measured some kind of green powder into a bowl. “Be at peace. Clear your mind of disturbing thoughts. Relax.”
Easy to say but impossible to do when the source of the disturbance was so close—and his thoughts about her were anything but relaxing.
Jenny felt Richard’s gaze on her. She was conscious of his attention, of everything about him, though she wished she wasn’t. And she was annoyed with herself that she’d so obviously underestimated him.
She really hadn’t expected that he would still be here. In her experience, career-driven men didn’t appreciate the opportunity to sit down and relax for five minutes, never mind five hours. She knew for certain that her ex wouldn’t have lasted this long—Brad was too restless and edgy to ever completely unwind. Maybe that was one of the reasons they were so fundamentally wrong for each other. Or maybe she was only looking for reasons now that they’d gone their separate ways.
It had been her choice to end their relationship, and as she hadn’t seen or heard from him in the six months that had since passed, she found it strange that she was thinking of him now. Or maybe the thought was a warning from her subconscious. Because while there was no more than a surface resemblance between Brad and Richard, she couldn’t help but feel they were alike on the inside. Brad’s only thought had been the next story; Richard was—even now, she imagined—preoccupied by the merger between Hanson Media and TAKA.
She needed to remember that single-minded drive and forget about the tingles that danced through her veins whenever he looked at her. No matter how strong the attraction between them, she wasn’t going to play second fiddle to any man’s career again. She had her own hopes and dreams and she wasn’t going to be sidetracked.
On the other hand, she wasn’t going to let her ambitions dictate the course of her life, either. She believed in balance and harmony—it was one of the reasons she loved the tea ceremony. The serenity and history were as important to her as the ritual preparation and sharing of food and drink.
She’d needed that serenity today. As annoyed as she’d been about losing her assignment, she relished the time for silent meditation, the opportunity to purge the negative emotions from her soul. The fact that the very same rituals were likely boring Richard Warren to tears was merely an added bonus. He might be graciously enduring the ceremony, but she would bet that after it was over, he’d be not just willing but eager to undertake the rest of his sightseeing alone. Or at least without her.
She felt a brief prick of guilt, released it with a long slow breath. She had no reason to feel guilty. If the American lawyer was too uptight to relax and enjoy one of the cornerstones of Japanese culture, she could hardly be held responsible.
“It didn’t work, you know.”
They were the first words Richard spoke to Jenny upon exiting the teahouse.
“What didn’t work?” she asked, feigning innocence.
“Using the tea ceremony to convince me to find another tour guide.”
“I’d hoped you would enjoy it,” she lied. “Cha-no-yu is a fascinating part of Japanese culture.”
His smile was quick, easy and completely disarming. “Then you weren’t hoping to bore me to death?”
She felt her own lips start to curve, fought to keep her expression neutral as she turned down the path leading away from the tea house. “Mr. Taka would never forgive me if I was responsible for the demise of an honored guest.”
“And if you could do away with me without risk of any professional repercussions?” he asked, falling into step beside her.
“They’d never find your body.”
He laughed. “That’s what I thought.”
This time she let the smile come. “You’re a good sport, Mr. Warren.”
“Richard,” he corrected. “And I had a good time.”
“I’m glad,” she said, surprised to realize it was true. Although her original intention had been thwarted, she found she wasn’t disappointed. She didn’t know many men—and none who weren’t Japanese—who could relax and enjoy the traditional ceremony that she loved. It made her wonder if she might have been too quick in her judgment of him.
Or maybe not.
As he clipped his cell phone back onto his belt, she reminded herself that he was a lawyer in town on temporary business. Definitely not a man her fickle heart should be weaving any romantic fantasies about. She knew only too well that the charm and attentiveness would dissipate in an instant when the demands of the job called.
“You seemed to know Izumi quite well,” he said.
Obviously he’d been paying more attention than she’d given him credit for. “She’s my roommate’s great-grandmother.”
“You have a roommate?”
She smiled at the surprise evident in his question. “You apparently have no idea how expensive rent is in Tokyo.”
“But your parents are Anderson Hotels.”
“They are,” she agreed. “I’m not.”
“Why not? Surely there must be numerous career opportunities for you within the family organization.”
“I wanted to be a reporter.”
“And that was okay with them?” he asked.
“They weren’t thrilled with my choice at first, but they’ve always supported me.”
“You’re lucky.”
She nodded. It was what she reminded herself every day—she was incredibly fortunate to have parents who loved and stood by her. Unfortunately that knowledge couldn’t silence the questions or lessen the pain that came from not having been wanted by the woman who’d given her away only a few hours after giving birth to her.<
br />
“You were telling me about Izumi,” he reminded her.
“Why are you so interested?”
“She seemed like an interesting woman,” he said. “Someone who’s lived a satisfying life, with a sparkle in her eyes that suggests she’s not nearly finished living it yet.”
Again, he’d surprised her. And because he’d so clearly understood the woman who was dear to her own heart, Jenny couldn’t help softening toward him.
“She would love that description,” she admitted.
“You’re close to her,” he guessed.
She nodded. “I don’t have any grandparents of my own, but I spent enough time at Samara’s when we were kids that Izumi became like a grandmother to me.
“But long before she was a grandmother, she was a geisha,” she told him. “It was while working as a geisha that she met and fell in love with Samara’s great-grandfather. They got married three weeks after their first meeting and had four children together before he went off to war. He never came back.”
Jenny had cried the first time she heard the story and almost every time since. Especially when Izumi told it—the emotion in her voice reflecting her love and grief as clearly as if it had been a recent loss, not something that had happened many years ago.
“She said that when she learned of his death, she felt as though a part of her had died, too. Then her baby—Samara’s grandfather—cried to be fed, and she realized she hadn’t lost him completely. So long as she had her children, she would always have part of him.”
It had made Jenny realize that she wanted the same thing—to love and be loved, deeply and forever, to have a family of her own and children who were part of herself as no one else was.
“It’s a beautiful story,” he said. “Almost enough to make the most cynical person believe in true love.”
“Almost?”
He shrugged.
“I’m guessing you would be that most cynical person.”
“Let’s just say that my experience has been different.”
“Every experience is, as Izumi would agree.” She turned to Richard and smiled. “She married three more times.”
“So much for true love.”
She shook her head. “You are a cynic.”
“Four marriages is a lot by any standards.”
“What’s your standard? How many did it take to destroy your faith in love?”
“Just one marriage and one divorce.”
“And you have no intention of trying again,” she guessed.
“I like to think I’m smart enough to have learned my lesson the first time.”
“Izumi’s situation is different. She didn’t divorce her husbands, she buried them. And I think her willingness to still believe in love is admirable. Of course, being widowed three times might explain why she’s currently married to a man almost twenty years her junior.” She smiled again. “It might also explain the sparkle in her eye.”
The glimpse of humor caught him off guard and completely captivated him. She was relaxed now, her defenses seemingly forgotten as she stopped trying to keep him at a distance and really talked to him.
When he’d first seen her across the room at TAKA yesterday, he’d been struck by her looks—both the uncanny sense of recognition and the cool, poised beauty. Now, with her eyes soft and her lips curved, the sun shining down on her, she was warm and real and infinitely more appealing.
The attraction he’d felt from the first stirred again, more insistently this time. Richard reminded himself that he had a lot of valid reasons for keeping things casual and only one for making a move—he wanted her. But that want was starting to prove a more powerful force than logic.
“What would it take,” he wondered aloud, “to put that kind of sparkle in your eye?”
Her smile didn’t fade, but there was no doubt it cooled. “More than you’d be willing to give,” she said in a level tone.
“Now that sounds like a challenge.”
“It’s not—just a fact.”
“You’re determined not to like me, aren’t you?”
“I don’t dislike you, Mr. Warren. I just have no interest in being a diversion for a guy like you.”
“A guy like me?” He felt his irritation mounting. “What does that mean?”
“You’re good-looking, charming and successful.”
How, he wondered, did she manage to make the statement so that it flattered and insulted at the same time?
“And because you have time on your hands,” she continued, “you assume any woman you want should be willing to help you fill it.”
He scowled, not just because of the accusation but because he realized there was some truth in what she’d said. He’d seen her, wanted her and gone after her.
“I’m a novelty for you—a woman who isn’t falling at your feet.”
“I’ve never actually had to step over the bodies,” he said dryly. “But I’ve also never met a woman so obviously opposed to my company.”
She met his gaze evenly. “I have no intention of being your plaything for the few weeks that you’re going to be in town.”
“Well, that’s certainly blunt.”
“I just want to make sure there are no misunderstandings.”
“For your information, I’m not in the habit of pursuing a woman who’s made it clear that she’s not interested.”
“Then there shouldn’t be a problem.”
She started to walk away.
He grabbed her arm and turned her back to face him. “Except I’m not convinced you’re not interested.”
Chapter Three
Jenny wanted to be annoyed by his arrogance, except she knew that he was right. His fingers slid down her arm to her wrist, his slow smile confirming that he’d registered the skip and race of her pulse. She could find all kinds of words to deny the attraction between them, but she couldn’t deny her physical response to him.
“Tell me that you don’t want me to kiss you,” he said, his lips hovering mere inches above hers.
Right now, with his body so close to hers she could feel his heat and hear his heart pound, she wanted his kiss more than she wanted to take her next breath. And that was precisely why she couldn’t let it happen. Wanting anything from a man like Richard Warren could only lead to heartache. So she opened her mouth to voice the denial—even if it was a lie.
Before she could speak a single word, he kissed her.
At the first touch of his lips, desire swept over her in an unexpected and overpowering wave. Recognizing the futility of struggling against it, she let herself flow with it—the deep, almost desperate need.
His arm banded around her waist, holding her tight against him so she couldn’t pull away. Heat seared her body everywhere it touched his. Her breasts, her hips, her thighs. Too much heat. It was impossible to even think of pulling away when she was melting against him.
She laid her palms on his chest, felt the quick, steady beat of his heart. Her own was pumping to the same rhythm, her blood pulsing heavily in her veins. Her hands slid over the hard contour of muscle to link behind his neck, holding on, as any protests she might have uttered turned into desires and her subconscious denials became needs.
His hand stroked up her back, the bold touch shooting arrows of pleasure through her. Then he cupped her neck to tilt her head back, his fingers sifting through her hair.
Again, he surprised her. Instead of deepening the kiss, the pressure of his mouth gentled. His lips moved away from hers to trail soft kisses along the line of her jaw. He nibbled gently on her ear, cruised slowly down her throat. Featherlight caresses that whispered over her skin.
He was no longer taking but giving, and Jenny couldn’t refuse what he was offering. She didn’t know how to fight against such tender passion. She didn’t want to. She trembled against him, her body quivering with desire.
“Richard.”
When she spoke his name, it was a sigh, a plea.
His mouth moved back to hers.
Slowly, patiently, he took her deeper. It was like a dream—soft and warm and misty, with just the hint of danger hovering around the edges.
His tongue slid between her parted lips, skimmed over hers. She welcomed him, felt rather than heard the soft whimper deep in her own throat.
She tried to tell herself that she didn’t want this. She knew she shouldn’t want this. But reason and logic had abandoned her, and she only wanted him.
Richard had intended to make a point—to force Jenny to acknowledge the attraction between them. He hadn’t expected that he’d end up wanting so much more. He eased his mouth from hers with unexpected reluctance and drew in a desperate lungful of air and willed his mind to clear, his thoughts to focus. Then he made the mistake of looking at her again.
Her lips were still swollen from his kiss, her eyes still cloudy with desire, her body still soft and warm against his. He felt an almost overwhelming urge to kiss her again, to take everything she didn’t seem to realize she was offering.
It was the obvious vulnerability and the almost imperceptible hint of fear in her eyes that held his passion in check. He didn’t know what she was afraid of, but he knew she was smart to be afraid. Whatever was happening between them was too much too fast—they both needed to take a step back.
“It seems as though you were right about my interest,” he murmured. “And wrong about your own.”
She opened her mouth, probably to argue the point, then closed it again. They both knew it was absurd to protest when she was still in his arms.
“It doesn’t change anything,” she said. “I’m not going to sleep with you.”
He wondered if she was aware of the tremor in her own voice, or how incredibly arousing it was to know he’d been the one to shake her cool poise. So arousing that he was tempted to interpret her words as another challenge and set upon changing her mind. But he’d been as shaken as she by the kiss they’d shared, and he decided it might be wise to accept the boundaries she was setting—at least for now.
“All right,” he agreed. “No sleeping together on the first date.”
She narrowed her eyes. “This isn’t a date.”
Her Best-Kept Secret Page 3