Kirin was such a mish-mash. Her poor background and then her fame, the plain way she presented herself, her quirky side with the salt and pepper shakers, and her sense of humor after all that had happened.
“Tell me about your hobbies?” She looked up from where she was chopping at the counter and gave him a toe-curling smile.
“Hobbies? No hobbies. Too busy.”
“You must have something. No one can live on work alone. Tell me about the running. You must enjoy that.”
“I started running to help maintain my weight when I was modeling, and it’s become part of my normal routine. No one wants an out of shape image consultant.”
She tilted her head as she stopped chopping. “Don’t you get sick of it all?”
“The running?”
“The image industry. The models and the fashion. It’s so subjective, isn’t it? About what looks good and what doesn’t?”
“I think most people know what looks stylish.” He picked up a Batman shaker, then remembered her gray leggings from yesterday and considered revising that statement. “And anyone who tells you they don’t judge a person by how they look is a bare-faced liar.”
She reached for something on a high shelf and shook it into the bowl. “But focusing so much on looks is so empty, so finite. Doesn’t that just depress you sometimes?” She was sounding just like Bryn, and the familiar defensive chill crawled up his spine.
“Of course not. It’s my business. I earned my first million because of my looks and my next learning how to enhance the looks of others. It’s not finite for me.”
“How long have you been with Dent and Douglas?”
He’d been expecting this question, so his answer came easily. “Not long. They’re San Francisco’s most prestigious PR firm so I feel very privileged to be associated with them.”
She made a small sound.
“What?”
Her eyes crinkled at the corners. “I just don’t see you as an employee.”
He straightened. Her ability to sum him up so accurately spooked him and held him fascinated. “Why’s that?”
“Oh, I don’t know.” A small smile curved her mouth. “You don’t seem like you’d be able to take instructions very well.”
He roared with laughter. “Is that right?”
“You seem more like someone who’d want to run the company.” She called to Dudley and put what looked like a bowl of chopped steak on the floor.
She could be as insightful as she liked, but he wouldn’t tell her the truth just yet. He wanted her to trust what he was doing for her. Hell, he wanted her to trust him. Telling her that his whole future depended on the success of her transformation could make her run for the hills. Or doubt his advice. He didn’t want her thinking his strategy was based solely on his own ends.
“Tell me what really happened with Trent Bray.” He came closer to watch her cook. Just like the very first time he saw her, he was mesmerized by every movement—from the way she sprinkled salt into a pot of boiling water to the way she checked the freshness of the vegetables. There was a confidence in her that he hadn’t seen a lot of lately, and it was very sexy.
She kept slicing a tomato in swift, clean strokes, but even from where he stood he could hear the increased pressure as the knife hit the wood of the chopping board, see her grip on the black handle grow tighter.
“I’ve told you what happened.” She stopped and brushed the back of her hand across her forehead and then resumed the cutting without looking up. “He started to flirt with me. It began as a bit of banter to begin with. He did it in such an insidious way I hardly even noticed.” She paused. “Then he’d bring me coffee and stay longer in my office than was necessary. He’d wait until I was ready to go home, then walk with me to the parking lot. I was too naïve to realize what he was doing and by the time he made a pass it was all too late.” Concentrating hard on what she was doing, she lifted the chopping board and scraped the bright red tomatoes into the salad bowl.
Blake moved to the side of the counter, the Batman salt shaker still in his hand. “And you then told him to get the hell away from you, and that’s when he took offense.” She turned her back on him, looking for something.
“That’s what happened, isn’t it, Kirin? You told the jerk to keep away, and he took offense?”
Suddenly she stopped what she was doing and stood frozen on the spot.
“Kirin?” She didn’t move, and he realized he was holding a breath, waiting for her answer. He took a step toward her. “God, he didn’t attack you, did he? Didn’t assault you?” His fingers curled tight around the shaker. If that bastard had forced himself on her . . . someone so caring and open and honest.
She dragged in a breath and turned, then took a step back so she was pressed into the countertop. Her face was impassive, mouth quivering slightly at one corner. “He called me a frigid bitch.”
“Oh, sweetheart….”
“He said I was so hard and probably so dried up that he wouldn’t have been able to get close enough to me, anyway.”
Blake stepped closer, but she held up both hands, palms outward, and dropped her head for a second before she looked him in the face again. “He said everyone knew I’d only slept with one man in my life so no wonder I didn’t know what to do when someone made a move on me.”
“What a prick.”
She shook her head. “He was right. Joe was the first man I made love to, and he was also the last.”
Blake let out a low whistle.
“When Trent made the allegation that I’d made a pass at him at a Christmas party I was so shocked that I wasn’t sure I hadn’t done something wrong. Had I stood too close? Touched his arm for too long?”
The confusion on her face and the hesitation in her voice caused his chest to constrict, and he burned to take all the pain away for her. Be the one who’d fight for her. “Did he make the allegation to other people?”
“He went to my HR manager, and she reported it to my board. It was humiliating, but I’d thought we’d resolved it. When he applied for a promotion a couple months later and didn’t get it, he said the harassment had continued and that I’d sidestepped him for the job because he refused to sleep with me. That’s when my lawyer advised an out of court settlement to make it go away.”
Blake put the ornament on the counter beside her and touched her arm. The soft skin warmed his hand, and he curled his fingers to feel more of her. “You didn’t believe that jerk? You didn’t think you were that cold, hard woman he said you were. Or that you’d treated him badly.”
Of course she did. It was written in the lines by her mouth and the uncertain look in her eye. And it made him want to pull her close and whisper how wrong she was. “I don’t know.”
“Kirin, you can’t believe him. From the very first day I saw you I was awed by your self-confidence, your drive to put your business back on the right track. That’s what blew me away about you. And I bet those were the things Bray wished he’d had for himself.”
“I haven’t had sex in five years.” Her words were a whisper.
Had he heard her right? He shook his head. “You don’t have to tell me all this. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“No, I think you need to understand, because it’s impacting on your work here.”
He left his hand on her arm and stroked the underside with his thumb while she continued.
“Joe and I grew apart and didn’t have a sex life for years. And the couple of guys I dated after he died only wanted to be seen with me to advance their own careers. When all this happened with Trent, I wondered if maybe he was right. Maybe I am a frigid bitch. I think that’s why I can’t do all this sexing up stuff.” She hooked him with her liquid caramel eyes, and he dragged his thumb across the smooth skin at her wrist.
“I’ll never believe you’re not a sensual woman. Not in a million years.”
For an endless second she looked at him and the saucepan lid chattering on the stove matched the beat, hard and
heavy, in his chest. He stepped forward and cupped her cheek in his palm. “You’re beautiful, Kirin. You’re desirable to any man. Don’t doubt that for a second. A lot of what you and I are doing together is finding the closed part of you, bringing it out in the open so you’re confident in the whole of yourself. So your fans can see the real you.”
He dipped his face closer, and the air between them sparked. Nothing mattered more right now than being as close to her as he could get. “We can find it together.” Before he had another thought, his mouth was against hers. He slid his tongue between her lips, and the small sound she made in the back of her throat fired him hotter. He dragged her close and devoured the honey-sweet mouth he’d been watching and wanting.
Her fingers threaded up his neck and she pulled him towards her until they were chest to chest, jammed against the countertop. He deepened the kiss, the warm scent of freshly cut tomatoes and citrus shampoo causing it to become a feast.
In a dance of tongue and lip, his mind fogged, his only focus the way his skin heated under hers, his pulse rushing. Wanting more of her, he dragged himself from her lips, then kissed a line from that sweet, lush mouth down her delicate jaw. He pushed back the drape of hair and nuzzled the milky skin of her neck. The flutter of her pulse against his lips fired him.
“Mmmm, Blake, hang on.” She whispered as she moved her hands to his chest, “We shouldn’t do this. We can’t possibly do this.”
He looked into her face and the flush on her skin and the spark in her eyes told him her indecision wasn’t matching what was running through her blood.
“We can do whatever you want.” He moved his face close again and kissed the delicate lobe of her ear. “It’s just a kiss…”
“You’re gorgeous.” She moaned as she pushed him back and gazed into his face. “I can hardly take my eyes off you when we’re together. It’s like having to look at a black forest gateau every morning when I’m on a diet. But you know this is impossible as much as I do.”
He smiled. He’d found her watching him in the last few days, saw the way the color rushed to her face when he’d caught her. He’d been around women long enough to know when they were attracted to him, and there was no doubt in his mind about Kirin. And he wanted her just as much.
“Okay.” He let his hands drop by his sides. “If that’s what you want, but I could’ve sworn you enjoyed that kiss.”
She wet her lips. “Of course I did, but it was a sympathy kiss after what I told you about Trent. I don’t need your sympathy.”
Blake thought about the pressure in his jeans right now, the way his chest had thumped when her pulse skipped beneath his fingers. “There were a whole lot of reasons why I kissed you just now. Sympathy didn’t figure.”
“It couldn’t work.” She moved her eyes from his face and back again. “Could it?” Her tone had slipped between a statement and a question. “My business means way more to me than a relationship—you said yourself I can’t be dating anyone right now—and I thought you understood that.”
He smiled slowly. “Who said anything about a relationship?”
Kirin willed her heart to stop sprinting and her knees to keep her steady.
Blake kissing her was a figment of the dreams that made her toss and turn at night, not something she ever expected in reality. And it was the way he’d kissed her—with hungry, open-mouthed desire—that had every cell in her body screaming to let it happen again. The fact she was standing here now with his heat still pulsing on her lips and his broad chest only a touch away was enough to make every thought in her head scramble.
I haven’t had sex for five years. What in all hell had she been thinking telling him that? What else could the poor, honorable guy do but give her a kiss to make her feel better?
It might’ve been the most perfect kiss she could’ve imagined, but she’d experienced the flattery and attention of a younger man before and look where that had gotten her.
“Well, if it wasn’t a relationship, then it would be shallow, meaningless sex, wouldn’t it?” she said.
“I guess it would.” Blake lifted a finger and ran it slowly from her shoulder to her elbow, and her skin flamed. His voice was as sinfully rich as her secret caramel sauce recipe, and she almost melted on the spot. “But if we both knew what it was going in, then there wouldn’t be a problem. Making love always means something. Maybe it’s the key we’ve been looking for. The way to help you find your authentic sexy self.”
A champagne fizz flowed through her veins with the way he was stroking her. What woman wouldn’t kill to be seduced by Blake Matthews, in her own kitchen, with three cheese gnocchi to follow? But she hadn’t gotten where she was in the world by making rash and libido-fueled decisions.
She stilled. In truth, she’d never once made a rash, libido-filled decision. And where, in fact, was she in the world right now? Still at rock bottom.
She looked into Blake’s confident face, and something shifted inside her. What if he was right and this was exactly what she needed? To break the shackles of her loveless marriage with Joe, the feelings of shame and confusion with Trent? Maybe a short, sexy fling with a young, carefree guy like Blake could help her find the elusive sexy side that he seemed so certain she had hidden inside her.
She took a steadying breath. No, it was madness.
Tucking a piece of stray hair behind her ear, she willed her voice steady. “It would destroy everything if we were found out. My reputation as a cougar would be cemented, and you wouldn’t have succeeded in changing my image. Disaster for both of us.”
“True,” he said. “But we’ve perfected the art of stealth already, and we’re only talking another ten days. I think we could do it. If we had agreed boundaries and a clear objective.” His eyes smoldered. “We’d both have plenty to gain.”
She reached across the counter and turned off the saucepan. This felt like a business discussion. A sexy, secret business discussion that both horrified and thrilled her.
She schooled her voice into a tone that was a whole lot more definite than she felt. “As much as I’d love to take you up on your offer, I think there’s too much at stake. I propose that for the remainder of our two weeks we acknowledge our attraction to each other but that we put our own goals ahead of that.”
He just smiled, a look so challenging and so naughty her body flamed.
She tossed her head. “No more discussions about lingerie or my sex life, or the things we could get up to together. From now on we focus on business and nothing more.”
He folded his arms across his chest, his grin even sexier than before. “If you think you can stick to that. Not sure I can.”
She turned back to the gnocchi before she could change her mind.
Blake walked from his car to Kirin’s gate the next afternoon, a pile of garment covers slung across his arm. He’d made a dignified exit, full of Kirin’s unbelievably good gnocchi, last night. There’d only been conversations about the food and her media training after the aborted kiss, though.
But he hadn’t stopped thinking about it. About the hunger he’d sensed in her, the flame that had ignited when he’d slipped his tongue between her lips, and he knew she’d felt something. The way her eyes grew wide and sparkled wasn’t the only giveaway.
It was lucky he’d organized for her to take the first media training on her own today. It would give him a chance to consider his next move.
When he’d learned she hadn’t made love in five years, that her lack of sexual confidence wasn’t because she wasn’t interested, but through a lack of an intimate relationship, something new had stirred inside him. It was wrong that a woman so unique, so interesting, and beautiful was so inexperienced in making love.
He’d sent her a text saying he’d drop the clothes by this evening, but she’d said Lucy was bringing her sister Pippa by to give her some makeup tips. She told him where her spare key was and asked him to do it during the day.
When he reached the gate, he stopped. A woman was kno
cking on her front door, a woman in very tight, black skinny jeans and a large white sweater. Her faded blonde hair was piled on her head with a neon pink hair thing, a large bag slung over her thin shoulder.
Maybe the cleaner. And it looked like she’d lost her keys. She bent down to a large ceramic frog—the place Kirin had told him he’d find the key—and retrieved something from beneath it. She then stood and placed a key in the door.
He could go away and come back later, or he could leave the clothes inside as he’d told Kirin he would. The chance to go inside her peaceful home one more time won out. If he couldn’t spend the day with her, then stepping foot inside a place that carried the same scent of spring flowers he caught whenever she walked by would do ’til he could see her again. He closed the gate behind him and walked up the path and through the front door. The sound of out-of-tune humming was coming from the kitchen, and as much as he’d have liked to leave the clothes and go, it was only polite to let the woman know he was here.
He cleared his throat at the doorway to the kitchen, and she let out a high-pitched squeal. “Oh, Lord save me!” Her hand slammed against her generous chest. “Who in all hell are you? And why did you creep up on me like that? I almost dropped these beautiful shakers.”
Dudley barked in the corner like the Hound of the Baskervilles, and Blake was frozen to the spot, staring at Kirin’s visitor. The caramel eyes beneath long lashes, the delicate jawline, and milky skin—there was no mistaking Kirin’s mother. She must only be in her early fifties, but it was hard to tell exactly. She dressed like someone half her age, the dark kohl around her eyes making her look nightclub-ready.
“Shut up, Dudley!” They both shouted at once and Dudley stopped mid-bark, a long string of drool dripping from his mouth as he lay back down on his cushion.
Bad Reputations: A steamy, celebrity romance (The Breaking Through Series Book 1) Page 9
