Her Best-Kept Secret

by Harlen, Brenda

  She tilted her head back to look at him. “I have to admit, I did expect you would have found an excuse to part ways with me long before now.”

  “You’re surprised by my perseverance?”

  “Yes,” she admitted.

  “Good.” He tapped his finger lightly against her chin. “I like knowing that I can surprise you.”

  She took a step back. “Good night.”

  “Good night, Jenny.”

  As she walked inside the building, grateful they’d established an understanding of the rules, Richard watched her, already thinking about breaking them.

  Chapter Four

  Jenny should have known Samara would be waiting for her. When she opened the door of her apartment, she found her roommate in the living room, thumbing through the pages of a decorating magazine.

  Samara glanced up, then at the clock on the wall. “Must have been quite the tea ceremony.”

  “It was.” Jenny dropped her purse and keys on the table.

  A moment of silence passed, a few more pages turned before Samara finally asked, “Am I going to have to pry for details?”

  Jenny carried two cans of soda from the fridge, passed one to her friend, then popped the top on the other. “I wouldn’t know what to tell you,” she admitted. “Except that Richard Warren isn’t quite who I thought he would be.”

  Samara closed the magazine and set it aside. “Do you like him?”

  “It’s too soon to say.”

  “You just spent the last twelve hours with him—I’d think you’d have an opinion.”

  She hesitated before admitting, “I enjoyed his company.”

  “Why do you sound surprised?”

  “Because he’s smart and charming and far too good-looking.”

  She was aware that her protests sounded ridiculous, but she also knew that Samara would understand.

  Her friend’s response confirmed that she did. “He’s not Brad Morgan or Kevin Hicks or James Gillett—”

  “I know. But he’s not that different from any of them either.” And she knew that if she ignored her better judgment and let herself get involved with Richard, he would break her heart, too.

  “You always said you had great memories of James,” Samara reminded her.

  “Yeah.” Jenny smiled. She’d been twenty years old and completely inexperienced when she’d met James Gillett, and the instant attraction between them had both intrigued and terrified her. He’d been her first love—and her first lover.

  “What went wrong?” her friend asked. “Why did you break up with him?”

  “Because I finally realized he wasn’t ever going to be what I needed, that he wasn’t capable of making a commitment.” She sighed. “At least that’s what I thought until I heard he got married last year.”

  “James is married?” Samara sounded as stunned as Jenny had been.

  She nodded. “Her name’s Meghan—she’s a doctor.”

  “You never told me he got married.”

  “It never came up in conversation.”

  “If you were pained by it, you should have brought it up.”

  Her friend’s comment made Jenny smile. Although Samara was fluent in English, she still occasionally mixed up similar words. “Why would it bother me?”

  “Because you loved him once,” Samara said gently.

  “Okay, maybe it did bother me a little.” She got up to toss her empty can in the garbage. “Or maybe what bothered me was realizing how much I want to be the center of someone’s world, like Meghan is for James.”

  Samara shook her head. “You’ve been listening to my great-grandmother’s stories again.”

  “She managed to find four men who put her first. All I want is one.”

  “Some day you’ll find him,” Samara said, then she smiled. “Or maybe you already have.”

  Jenny ignored the deliberate hint in the second part of her friend’s statement. “Maybe the problem isn’t the men,” she said. “Maybe it’s me. Maybe I’m just not the type of woman who inspires that kind of passion.”

  “You can’t honestly believe that.”

  “Everyone warned me that James would never commit to one woman. It turns out he just didn’t want to commit to me.

  “Kevin claimed to love me, then he decided he’d rather be playing his guitar in smoky bars than building a life with me.

  “When Brad asked me to move in with him, I thought it was proof we were in a committed relationship. Now I have to wonder if he just wanted someone to water his plants while he was away.”

  It was the story of her life—always coming in a distant second to someone or something else. And it wasn’t just recent experiences that made her feel that way. No, the first seeds of the doubts and insecurities were planted almost twenty-five years earlier when she’d first come into the world and her own mother hadn’t even wanted her.

  “You’ve made a few bad choices,” Samara said with a shrug. “Who hasn’t?”

  “Spoken like a true friend.” Jenny managed a smile. “But the fact is, not many women have my appalling judgment when it comes to men.”

  And yet she continued to be drawn to the same type—self-confident and self-absorbed. Men who were not just committed to their careers but obsessed with success, more interested in getting ahead than being with her.

  “Maybe Richard’s different,” Samara said.

  She laughed. “Yeah. He’s a lawyer instead of a professor, musician or journalist. That doesn’t make him any less obsessed with his career.”

  “He probably bored you to tears talking about legal presidents all day.”

  “Precedents,” Jenny corrected automatically. “And just because he managed to restrain himself from talking law while we were out doesn’t mean he wasn’t thinking about it.”

  “You’re probably right,” Samara agreed, a smile tugging at the corners of her mouth.

  Jenny narrowed her gaze on her friend.

  “If you want a man who can’t think of anything but you, you should date Kimiyasu in circulation. He trips over his tongue every time you walk past his desk.”

  “He trips over his tongue every time he sees anyone in a skirt,” Jenny pointed out.

  “Okay, maybe not Kimiyasu. But you should be going out, meeting people.”

  “I do go out, and I already know a lot of people.”

  “I meant men,” Samara said.

  “I know you did—I’m just not interested in dating anyone right now.”

  “But you’re attracted to Richard,” Samara guessed.

  Her thoughts drifted again to the sizzling kiss they’d shared, and she sighed. “A woman would have to be dead to not be attracted to Richard.”

  Her friend grinned. “I was beginning to wonder. You haven’t dated at all since you moved to Tokyo. And I know it hasn’t been from lack of offers.”

  “I’ve been busy.”

  “You’ve been hiding. Or maybe you’ve been waiting for Brad to come back.”

  “If I was waiting for him, I’d still be in New York.” Jenny shook her head decisively. “I’m getting on with my life.”

  “Then why are you so deposed to spending time with Richard Warren? Maybe even having a little fling?”

  “Opposed,” she said. “And not wanting to jump into bed with another man doesn’t mean I’m still hung up on my ex.”

  “Hmm.” Samara propped her feet up on the coffee table, one delicate ankle crossed over the other. “I think the problem isn’t that you’re not ready to jump into bed with him, but that you are.”

  She remained silent.

  “You’re not denying it.”

  “I’m trying to figure out how many negatives there were in that statement to decipher what you said.”

  “You want to sleep with Richard, but you know that if you do, you won’t be able to go back to Brad.”

  “I don’t want to go back to Brad.”

  “I bet Richard would be great in bed,” Samara continued as if Jenny hadn’t s
poken.

  That was a bet Jenny wasn’t willing to take. If his kiss was any indication, Richard wouldn’t be great in bed—he would be phenomenal. But she had no intention of telling her friend about the kiss, so all she said was, “That’s quite an assumption to make considering that you saw him for all of two minutes.”

  “What can I say?” Her roommate shrugged. “The man makes an impression.”

  Jenny couldn’t deny the truth of that, either.

  Richard did get lost trying to find his way back to his hotel. Although he wasn’t entirely sure if it was the lack of recognizable street signs that was responsible for his misdirection or the confusion in his own mind. Because as much as he tried to concentrate on where he was going, he continued to be preoccupied with thoughts of Jenny.

  He hadn’t realized how structured and predictable his life had become until she’d provided a respite—however temporary—from the tedium of his existence. She intrigued him and challenged him, and she made him feel something he hadn’t felt in a very long time—alive.

  He wasn’t surprised by the attraction he felt. He was surprised that he couldn’t seem to put that attraction aside. He’d always managed to divide his life into neat sections: work, family, social. With an admittedly heavy emphasis on work, especially in recent years.

  But now he was thinking about Jenny instead of the Hanson-TAKA merger. He was wandering the streets of downtown Tokyo instead of hurrying back to his hotel to review his notes and check his e-mail. And although he’d left her not thirty minutes ago, he was already looking forward to tomorrow when he would see her again.

  His thoughts strayed again to the steamy kiss they’d shared in the garden outside of the tea house.

  He hadn’t planned to kiss her. He’d thought about it—every time his gaze had lingered on the soft fullness of her mouth—but he’d had no intention of acting upon his desire. Until she’d told him to back off in that cool voice that contradicted the heat in her eyes.

  It had been an impulse, driven by the need to know which part of her was real.

  It had also been a mistake.

  Not because he hadn’t enjoyed kissing her, but because he’d enjoyed it too much. While he’d suspected there was a lot more to Jenny Anderson than she let most people see, he hadn’t expected so much. The depth and intensity of her response had surprised him, proving there was passion beneath the poise and a lot more hot than cool.

  He also hadn’t expected the wariness he’d seen in her eyes after the kiss had ended. It was that hint of uncertainty that held his own desire in check. He liked women with experience, who wanted only the same things he did. For all her elegance and sophistication, there was a vulnerability about Jenny Anderson that warned him to proceed with caution—or not at all.

  She was the type of woman who would want more than he could give her, and he refused to put himself in the position of disappointing her. He’d already failed his mother and his wife—he wouldn’t set up anyone else for the same disillusionment.

  So he would do the smart thing—he would respect her wishes and keep their relationship simple. But taking the smart and easy route wouldn’t stop him from wanting her.

  Thankfully, he would only have to resist temptation for a few more days. As soon as Mr. Tetsugoro was back and negotiations commenced, Richard was confident he would be able to put Jenny Anderson in the back of his mind.

  This thought gave him a measure of relief, as did the realization he’d finally found his way back to the hotel.

  When he got up to his room, he saw the message light on his phone was blinking. He punched in the code to retrieve his voice mail and found there wasn’t just one but four messages waiting—all of them from the acting CEO of Hanson Media Group.

  At 10:30 a.m.:

  “Hi, Richard, it’s Helen. I just thought I’d try to catch you in your room. Obviously you’re out, so I’ll try the cell phone number you gave me.”

  11:30 a.m.:

  “Richard, it’s me again. I tried your cell and immediately was patched through to voice mail. Give me a call when you get this message, please.”

  2:00 p.m.:

  “It isn’t like you to be out of touch for so long, Richard. Call me before I really start to worry.”

  And at 7:30 p.m.:

  “Now I’m thinking you’ve been run over by that bullet train or abducted by aliens. Please call as soon as you get this message. I don’t care what time it is.”

  Richard might have smiled at the content of her last message if not for the obvious concern in Helen’s voice. Instead, he suffered the guilt of knowing he hadn’t thought to check in with her at all through the day. He glanced at the glowing numbers on the alarm clock and mentally calculated the time difference. It was 8 a.m. in Chicago, which meant he would be able to catch Helen at the office.

  “I’m glad to hear you’re not dead.” It was the first thing she said when she realized he was on the line.

  “I’m sorry you were concerned—I was out all day and just got your messages.”

  “I was only concerned because I’ve never known you to turn your cell phone off.” She didn’t sound annoyed so much as puzzled by the fact.

  “I had to turn it off for cha-no-yu,” he said, a little defensively. “And then I forgot to turn it back on.”

  There was a long silence before Helen responded. “You…forgot?”

  Richard couldn’t blame her for sounding incredulous. He’d been shocked himself when he’d unclipped the phone and realized he’d never powered it back up after he left the teahouse with Jenny.

  “You must have been quite…distracted.”

  This time there was amusement rather than surprise in her tone.

  “I do have a lot on my mind getting ready for this merger.”

  She laughed. It was a sound he hadn’t heard in a long time—since George’s death and the disclosure of the company’s precarious financial situation, no one at Hanson Media had much reason to laugh. He was happy to hear her doing so, even if her enjoyment came at his expense.

  “You were ready long before you ever stepped on the plane,” Helen reminded him.

  “There’s always more prep work that can be done in a situation such as this.”

  “That’s true.” Then she asked, “Who is she?”

  “Who is who?”

  She laughed again. “The woman you spent the day with.”

  “You’re relentless, Helen.”

  “One of my finer attributes,” she agreed. “Are you going to tell me about her?”

  He knew she would continue to badger him until he did. “She’s an American journalist who lives and works in Tokyo.”

  “And she’s been showing you around,” Helen guessed.

  “Reluctantly.”

  “I can’t imagine any woman would be reluctant to spend time with you.”

  Richard smiled wryly. “You haven’t met Jenny.”

  “Am I going to?” Helen was evidently delighted by the possibility.

  “I don’t think so.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I have a job to do here and so does she.”

  “As long as the business is taken care of, no one would object to you mixing a little pleasure with it. And there isn’t much you can do with respect to the merger right now, anyway.”

  “Unfortunately not,” he agreed.

  “When are you seeing her again?”

  “What makes you think I am?”

  “The fact that you didn’t come out and say you weren’t.”

  He shook his head. “I assume there was a reason you left so many messages on my voice mail other than to inquire how I’m spending my free time.”

  “I really just wanted to touch base,” she admitted. “You know I get antsy when things are out of my control.”

  “Then maybe you should have come to Tokyo instead of me.”

  “With so much going on with Jack and Evan and Andrew, I thought it more important to keep an eye on things h
ere. And I know you’re more than capable of handling the negotiations.”

  “I appreciate your confidence,” he said. “When are you coming?”

  “You know me so well.” He heard the smile in her voice.

  “Then you have booked your flight?”

  “I’ll be there next Saturday.”

  Chapter Five

  Jenny arrived at Richard’s hotel the next morning without any definite plans. Since he’d been such a good sport through the tea ceremony and at the theater the day before, she decided to give him a few options. She suggested the Tokyo Tower, the Japanese Sword Museum or the East Garden of the Imperial Palace. His choice wasn’t at all what she expected.

  “Shopping?” Jenny echoed as she stepped into the revolving glass door to exit the hotel.

  Richard smiled wryly as he followed her out into the sunshine. “It’s not one of my favorite pastimes,” he admitted. “But I need to pick up some gifts and souvenirs while I’m here, and I thought you could help me.”

  Gifts for his boss? Or a girlfriend back home? It shouldn’t matter. If he wanted to shop for a dozen women, it wasn’t any of her business. She wasn’t going to start acting weird and proprietary just because he’d kissed her yesterday—even if it was a kiss that had made her mind numb and her toes curl.

  “Was there anything in particular you’re looking for?” she asked.

  “Something for an eight-year-old girl and a five-year-old boy.”

  She turned south, toward the subway station, and asked casually. “Yours?”

  “No.” His response was quick and vehement. “Caitlin and Tyler are my niece and nephew.”

  “You mentioned yesterday that you’d been married, so I thought they might be your children.”

  He shook his head in emphatic denial. “No kids.”

  There were more questions she wanted to ask: How long were you married? Why did it end? Her curiosity wasn’t motivated by personal interest but a simple desire to know what made a person make that kind of commitment—and then break it. Why would a man vow to love a woman forever, then walk away? Why would a mother give her away her child?

  But it was evident from Richard’s clipped tone that his marriage was a topic he didn’t want to discuss, so she let it pass, reminding herself that his failed relationship was just one more reason not to get involved. The next time she opened her heart, she was determined that it would be to a man who could make a promise to her—and keep it. Her only obligation with respect to Richard Warren was to show him around Tokyo.