A Gentleman in the Street
Page 9
Connor winced. Ben’s eyes grew big. “To your face?”
Jacob dipped the French fry in ketchup and took a bite, though he wasn’t hungry. “Yeah.”
Connor pursed his lips. “She’s lucky all you did was take her phone away. If that had been either of us, you would have kicked our asses.”
“Deservedly,” Ben said, in a rare moment of seriousness.
Jacob warmed at their instant agreement.
Hypocrite. You didn’t storm out when Remy called Akira a slut.
That had been…different. Completely different. Still, Jacob internally squirmed, immediately throwing up a mental block on last night’s events. If he thought about it at all, he would be utterly useless.
“She said Mei called Akira names often enough.” He hesitated. “Did either of you hear her talk about her daughter like that?”
He was gratified when Ben and Connor instantly responded in the negative. “But, you know, they had a contentious relationship. You could tell Mei wasn’t very fond of her,” Ben mused. “Mei tried to keep up appearances, but she was so cold to her in public, I can’t imagine she was much kinder to her in private.”
Connor’s eyes warmed with appreciation. “At least Akira didn’t take any shit. I kind of loved how she would bait Mei.”
“What do you mean?”
“The act she would put on. Mei would walk into a room, and Akira would just slip into it. Like every word she uttered was designed to annoy the woman.” Connor shrugged. “Hell, it’s kind of how she treats you, right?”
Jacob dropped his half-eaten French fry, struck by the words. “What do you mean?” he repeated.
Ben and Connor glanced at each other. The two were so close, despite their bickering, sometimes it seemed like they shared a brain. Jacob had nurtured that bond, but now it only annoyed him.
“Uh,” Ben stalled.
“Answer me.” All of the jumbled chaos rioting around in his mind suddenly calmed, his thought processes crystal clear.
You made me think you despised me for fourteen years, and now I find out it was because I committed the cardinal sin of attracting your lust. I reserve the right to not be punished for your desires. Absolutely right. She didn’t deserve to be punished for his wants.
He’d told himself repeatedly today she was wrong. He had never told her he hated her or found her disgusting, or even that he disapproved of her lifestyle. For fourteen years, he’d simply avoided her. He hadn’t sought her out or tried to bait her.
But a little voice in the back of his head had been unconvinced. And now that voice had come roaring back with a vengeance.
“I think the two of you have a complicated relationship,” Connor said diplomatically.
“What do you mean?”
“It means it’s okay for two people to not get along.”
“Akira has always been perfectly nice to us, though we don’t see her that often,” Ben admitted. “But we like her. Maybe she picks up on the fact…you don’t.”
The blood rushed in Jacob’s ears.
“I don’t think you would ever be as vocal about your dislike as Mei was. But she’s astute, Jacob.”
“You guys think I hate her?” he said roughly.
His stomach caved when both his brothers nodded, Ben more reluctantly. “Especially after you killed her in Shield of Sorrows.”
Jacob stared at his brothers. “What are you talking about?” Shield of Sorrows had been his first book, published when he was the tender age of twenty-six, and had launched his series about CIA Agent James Talent, a rogue operative frequently called on to save the world.
“Lidia was Akira, right?”
“No.” Even as he denied it, a sinking sensation came to the pit of his stomach. “She wasn’t anything like Akira.”
“She might have been Korean-American, not Japanese-American, but…” Ben ticked off the points on his hand. “She was rich, sexy, mouthy, beautiful, and the heir to a fortune.”
Also, utterly shallow and all-around unlikeable, a femme fatale luring the hero to his doom. In the book, she had been killed execution style by the shadowy villain, the final death before the stalwart James had taken the man down. Lidia hadn’t been designed to be a character anyone would mourn.
“It was weird when we read it. We didn’t think you even knew Akira well enough to dislike her personally.” Connor made a face. “But the other option was that you just disliked her on principle. And you’re not the type to insta-hate someone.”
“I’m not,” he said, numb. He would never condemn Akira for living whatever life she damned well pleased.
How could he, a small, truthful voice whispered, when he knew the only thing keeping him from doing the same was his obligations to his family? How could he despise a woman for acting on her base instincts? If there was no one in his life who would suffer for his decisions…
Naked limbs, sweat, grunting, growling, biting, his hard cock sinking into a tight pussy, a wet mouth.
He shuddered, slamming the mental brakes on the Pandora’s box of fantasies he had kept contained in his brain for the majority of his adult life. On the fantasy she had brought to life for him last night. Not for you. Never for you.
Jacob wiped his hand over his mouth, but it couldn’t rid himself of the bad taste left there. He prided himself on being a good man, a progressive man. He felt like the lowest of the low. “I don’t hate her,” he confessed. Both men leaned forward, and he realized he was close to whispering. “There was no history. I didn’t want to be like Dad… I had you guys and Kati to think of and take care of…” Every word Akira had hurled at him last night came flinging back at him. “I wanted her. I didn’t want to want her. My response must have seemed like disapproval. But it wasn’t directed at her.”
There was silence for a moment before Connor spoke. “You aren’t Dad. You could never be like that fucker.”
Jacob’s hand tightened on his beer, the reflexive defense of their father popping out of his lips. “Dad was—”
Connor held up his hand, stalling him. His mouth twisted cynically. “I’m not Kati. I was old enough, Jacob. I remember what Dad was like.”
“He was ill-equipped to have children,” Ben said quietly, somberness stamped into his face. “Far too irresponsible.”
“He tried,” Jacob faltered. “He had…problems.” Despite all his flaws, Jacob had loved his father. And unlike his brothers, who had been one and two when their mother had died, he remembered a different man. A man who had been less troubled and more balanced. The memories were why he had stuck so close to home, long past the time he should have become independent.
“He did. That doesn’t excuse him.” Connor looked away, his gaze distant. “You’re not him. Even if you hooked up with Akira, hell, with a hundred women, you could never be like him.”
He couldn’t speak. In the ensuing silence, Ben straightened from his slouched position. “Holy shit.”
“Jacob,” Connor said slowly. “Did you and Akira…?”
He shook his head. “This— Nothing much happened.”
“But something did.” Connor propped his chin in his hand and stared at Jacob like he’d never seen him before. “With Akira? Wow.”
Ben cleared his throat. “You don’t have to give us details, Jacob, but, uh. We won’t turn you away if you do.”
“There will be no details.” He pinched his nose. I’m sorry for you. But you still had no right to treat me like you have.
No. He had no right.
He could posture about disapproving of Mei calling her daughter a slut. He could take away all of Kati’s electronics. But at the end of the day, was he really much better? He may not have said the derogatory words, but his aloofness could easily have been taken as disapproval. It didn’t matter he hadn’t intended it. What mattered was how he had made her feel. “How could I treat a woman like this?”
“Because you’re not God,” Connor snapped. “You’re allowed to make mistakes.”
His lips twisted. “My mistakes affect three people.” His daily reminder, the thing keeping him on the straight and narrow path for so many years.
“Really?” Connor responded. “Because as far as I can tell, this mistake? This affected you. And a completely innocent woman.”
Ben nodded. “Do you think we’re happy you sacrificed her to spare us…what? The knowledge our brother is human and has sex or feels desire or something? Come on. You’re allowed to be selfish.”
He suppressed a shudder, unable to think about selfishness and not relive those moments on the soft red rug in Akira’s office. It had been everything he’d thought it could be. For that period in time, he’d forgotten everything else in his life. His world had been reduced to him, and her, and satisfying their most basic needs.
Wrong. Dangerous. The path to destruction.
So why had it felt so right? The only thing that felt wrong about this scenario was the way he had treated Akira for all these years. He’d hurt her. He shoved his now-lukewarm beer away. “I just didn’t want you guys to be hurt.” The excuse felt dumb and stupid on his lips.
But then, his brothers didn’t know everything about him and their father, the secret he would probably take to his grave.
“Wake up, Jacob.” Uncharacteristic impatience colored Ben’s voice. “We’re all grown up. So is Kati.”
“What are you going to do when Kati leaves for college in a few months?” Connor asked with brutal honesty. “Be alone? Seal yourself up in your house with your books and your computer and never come out again? Why don’t you try living for yourself for a little while? You might like it.”
Live for himself. Do whatever he wanted, and damn the consequences.
What an utterly terrifying yet exhilarating possibility.
He glanced up at his brothers, stunned at the emotion written all over their faces. Worry. Worry for…him?
No, that was crazy. He was the one who had to worry for his siblings. Not the other way around.
“If you had a ‘nothing much’ going on with Akira…you should crawl back to her and turn that into something,” Connor said. “You’d be dumb as a rock not to.”
Ben nudged his brother. “Akira may be jumping into the deep end of the wild side,” he cautioned. “Maybe have a one-night stand first.”
“If he’s going to have a wild night with someone, it should be someone who knows what they’re doing.”
Jacob held up his hand to stop the absurd argument. There was truth in what his brothers were saying, but he needed some time to get there. After a lifetime of self-denial and responsibility, he couldn’t imagine rushing out and grabbing something for himself.
But you want to.
God, how he wanted to. Forget the universe and get down on his hands and knees between her legs and…
Jacob swallowed. At the very least, he had to make things up to the woman he’d inadvertently stomped upon.
“I don’t know if Akira’s ever going to talk to me again.” Jacob’s voice was low. “But if nothing else, I have to somehow make up for being an asshole.”
His brothers quieted, thinking. “Jewelry? Sweets?” Ben suggested.
“Food.” Connor nodded knowingly. “All those people who talk about a man’s heart being through his stomach are idiots. It’s the other way around. Cook a woman a nice dinner or bring her coffee in the morning, and she’s yours. I think it’s the effort.”
Jacob squinted. “Effort.”
“Yeah. Women like to know you put time and energy into pleasing them, especially when you’re trying to apologize to them.”
“I doubt she’ll be happy to see me,” Jacob pointed out.
Ben pondered that. “Maybe she doesn’t need to see you.”
Jacob scrubbed his hand over his stubble, something stirring inside him. It was much like the stirring he felt when he was pulling together a new plot, thinking of all the characters and the actions and reactions and consequences to follow.
He had to fix this. He had to make things up to Akira.
Plot achieved. Now, he just had to figure out the details.
Connor motioned to the bartender and held up three fingers. “You need to refresh your drink,” he said to Jacob when he protested. “And we’re going to be here a while.”
Ben nodded. “You’ve come to the right place. Connor’s been apologizing for being an asshole for way longer than fourteen years.”
Without even looking his way, Connor reached out and slapped Ben on the side of his head. Hard. “Ow!”
Jacob squinted. Dear Lord. He was screwed, but his resources were limited. “Boys.”
“Sorry.”
“Sorry.”
Chapter Eight
Contrary to popular rumors, Akira’s bedroom ceiling was not bedecked with mirrors, dirty etchings, and crystal chandeliers. Though, on nights like these, when she spent most every minute contemplating the damn thing, it might be nice to have something to look at. It would take her attention from the thought of Jacob’s hot gaze on her body in that storage closet, the heavy weight of his palm over her mouth, capturing her cries as Remy drove into her, the regret and pain dripping off him after…
Akira’s phone chimed a text alert on her bedside table, startling her. Almost six a.m. Though it was still dark out, by this time of day she would usually already be awake and raring to go.
Grateful for the distraction, she rolled over and grabbed the device, the simple movement painful. Boiling emotions made for a potent cocktail. Whiskey had never given her a pounding headache quite like this.
So sorry I missed your call a couple days ago!! Wyatt and I were at a party. Am awake now, call me when you want.
Warmth leached through her exhaustion. In the wake of the devastating charity dinner two nights ago, she’d forgotten she had left a message for Tatiana. Her circle of friends was deliberately small, and since she had crossed paths with the jewelry designer at a flea market years ago, Tatiana Belikov had quickly been elevated to the ranks of those she trusted.
Now a successful artist who commanded high prices for her art, Tatiana spent a good deal of her time in Vegas with her new husband. The distance hadn’t affected their friendship. Eager to have something else to concentrate on, Akira quickly initiated a video call.
The phone only rang twice before the connection was established, and she caught the petite blonde mid-yawn. “Why are we awake? It is too fucking early for decent people to be awake,” she greeted Akira.
“You texted me.”
“Yeah, I know. I’ve got meetings with vendors all day, and I wanted to get some work time in.” Tatiana took a bracing gulp from the mug she held. Despite her complaining, her gaze was alert, which told Akira this was probably her friend’s second cup of coffee. “I figured you might already be at the office. I don’t know how you do this every morning.” Tatiana eyed her. “But since you’re naked, I’m guessing you’re still at home.”
Akira sat up against the mound of pillows. Only the upper slopes of her breasts were visible to Tatiana. Not like she would be terribly upset if more was revealed. The other woman had been to her house parties, and they had shared a few adventures together. “I’m still in bed. Of course I’m naked.”
Tatiana’s rosebud lips pursed. “Wyatt’s going to be sad you called after he left.”
Akira half-smiled. “How is your sexy husband? I heard he had a less-than-stellar last quarter.”
“Damn, you really can’t stand me having someone richer than you in my life, can you?”
Akira stroked a strand of her hair. “Just making conversation.”
“My husband is doing fine, thanks, despite his financial woes.” A secret smile curved Tatiana’s lips. Probably because she was still tickled to call the man her “husband”.
A pang of something foreign and unwelcome shot through Akira’s system. She wasn’t jealous of the other woman, Akira assured herself. As much as she had grown to like Wyatt, she didn’t crave him for herself. She could see
herself with that kind of cold, dominant man for a night or two—any more and she would slit his throat and leave him in a ditch somewhere.
Maybe it was simply wistfulness she was experiencing at how happy Tatiana appeared. She identified with Tatiana—neither of them fit the mold the world considered appropriate for women. Neither of them particularly cared.
It was rare, in Akira’s experience, to find people who understood and accepted women like them as they were. To find one you would want to tie yourself to for life? Tatiana had discovered a needle in a haystack. “You know you can back out still, if you’re worried about his financial solvency,” Akira responded. “I’m sure a Vegas divorce is as easy to obtain as a Vegas marriage certificate.”
Tatiana snorted. “Please. As if I married him for his money.”
A person only had to look at Tatiana and Wyatt together to know why they had married. Even to a cynic like her, their love was practically an incandescent entity.
Akira shifted, inadvertently flashing Tatiana with her breast. The other woman sighed. “Wyatt’s going to be so sad he missed this call.”
“If he gets his financials back up, he could get back to playing instead of working.”
“I’ll be sure to pass that message along.” Tatiana paused to take another sip of her coffee. “Now, what’s up with you?”
Akira curled her legs beneath her, the silk of her sheets rasping against her shaved legs. “I found the box.”
Tatiana’s loud squeal came through the connection. “Get out. Can I see?”
Since she had been loath to be separated from it, the thing was sitting on her nightstand. She leaned over and picked it up, holding it so Tatiana could view it.
Tatiana was silent for a moment and then sighed. “That is some fine craftsmanship. I’ve never seen a puzzle box so intricate before. How many moves?”
“Two hundred and twenty-six.” The panels on the sides of the box slid back and forth and had to be manipulated in a certain sequence in order to get inside. Better than a diary with a lock and key.
Akira had been careful not to mention her grandmother’s box to many people. However, Tatiana could be trusted. Plus, she was an artist and had contacts Akira had been aware might come in handy.