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Authors: Maureen Smith

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BOOK: Whatever You Like
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“So, am I flying solo tomorrow?” she asked him.

“Just for a few hours. I have a couple meetings in the morning.”

Nodding, she covered her mouth to stifle a yawn.

“Getting sleepy?”

“Yeah.” She sighed. “It's been a long day. I think jet lag is catching up to me.”

Smiling, Roderick gathered her into his arms. She cuddled against him, tucking her head beneath his chin and marveling at how right it felt. How…perfect.

He stroked a hand up and down her back. “I can't promise you that I won't be tempted to have my way with you in the middle of the night,” he murmured teasingly.

She let out a soft, drowsy laugh. “Do I need to sleep in the other room?”

“That's not even an option.”

“Then be a good boy and let me rest.”

He sighed. “It's gonna be a
long
night.”

She smiled. Lulled by his soothing caresses, the deep timbre of his voice and the warm strength of his body, she felt her eyelids grow heavy. Before she drifted off to sleep, she heard him whisper into her hair, “I'm glad you're here, Lena.”

And she thought,
So am I.

Chapter Twenty-Two

S
he took Roderick's advice and slept in late the next morning. By the time he returned from the office, she was showered, dressed and raring to go sightseeing.

Their first stop was the Imperial Palace, situated within a large plaza surrounded by moats and massive stone walls. Although the palace buildings and inner gardens weren't open to the public, they were able to view and take photos of the two main bridges that formed an entrance to the imperial family's private residences.

From there they headed to the East Garden, where they strolled the beautifully manicured grounds, admired the vibrant profusion of Japanese flowers and wandered through former guard lodgings and tea rooms that had been carefully preserved for centuries. A gently sloping bridge led them to a pond with lanterns and a bubbling waterfall. It was a postcard-perfect photo spot, so they
laughingly took turns posing on the bridge while the other snapped pictures.

“I want one of us together,” Roderick said.

Before Lena could stop him, he flagged down another tourist, who graciously agreed to take their picture. As they moved into position, Roderick curved an arm around Lena's waist and smiled into her eyes, murmuring, “I want as many souvenirs as possible.”

Her heart turned over, and she felt a deep ache of longing. Longing for something she knew better than to want—a future with Roderick.

Somehow she managed to smile cheerfully for the photo.

As the tourist returned the camera to Roderick, he smiled at them and said, “You two make a beautiful couple.”

Lena flushed. “Oh, we're n—”

“Thanks,” Roderick spoke over her. “We're very happy together.”

“I can tell.”

Once the friendly man had moved off, Lena gave Roderick a puzzled look. “Why'd you tell him that?”

He shrugged. “He's a stranger. What difference does it make whether he thinks we're a couple? Anyway,” he said, grinning as he took her hand, “let's go see if we can catch a sumo wrestling match.”

Lena laughed. “I don't think so!”

After leaving the East Garden, they took bullet trains that whisked them around to several other tourist attractions, including the Tokyo National Museum and Tokyo Tower. From the moment they exited the train station at the famed Shibuya district, they were bombarded by the sight of neon-lit skyscrapers, teeming throngs of people, giant video screens and flashing
advertisements projected onto the sides of buildings. They strolled to Center Gai, a bustling pedestrian zone lined with CD stores, high-tech game centers, boutiques and nightclubs.

Lena didn't know whether to be appalled or fascinated by the eclectic fashions worn by Japanese schoolgirls, who paraded the streets in heavy Goth makeup, rainbow-hued ensembles and monstrous platform boots.

She and Roderick stopped for lunch at a cozy restaurant tucked into the basement of a hotel. They drank sake and dined on shabu-shabu, a delicious Japanese dish featuring thin slices of beef cooked with vegetables.

After lunch, they were standing at an intersection waiting to cross the street when they were mobbed by a group of Japanese teenagers pointing excitedly to Roderick and yelling, “Stringer Bell! Stringer Bell!” Who, of course, was the drug kingpin famously portrayed by Idris Elba on
The Wire.

Lena and Roderick took one look at each other and burst out laughing.

Needing a reprieve from the hyperactive pace of Shibuya, they headed to Asakusa to visit Sensoji, Tokyo's oldest and most architecturally stunning temple.

By the time they returned to the hotel that evening, Lena was completely worn out. After kicking off her flats and dumping her bags of souvenirs on the floor, she staggered to the bed and collapsed with an exhausted groan. A moment later Roderick joined her, draping an arm around her waist as he spooned her from behind.

“Don't get too comfortable,” he told her, chuckling. “We still have plans tonight.”

“What plans?” Lena moaned protestingly.

“Dinner and a show. Remember?”

She shook her head wearily. “Not tonight. Please, I beg of you. My feet can't take any more walking.”

Roderick laughed, his warm breath fanning the side of her face. “Hey, no one told you to overdo it with the sightseeing. We could have come back hours ago, but you insisted on visiting more places.”

“I was greedy. I wanted to take in everything at once. You should have talked some sense into me.”

He chuckled softly. “So now it's my fault, huh?”

“Basically.” She grinned, closing her eyes and sighing contentedly as he nibbled her earlobe. “Let's just stay in tonight and order room service.”

“We did that last night.”

“Only because I got in so late. Anyway, do you have a problem spending a quiet evening alone with me?”

“That depends,” Roderick murmured.

“On what?” she demanded indignantly.

He smiled against her ear. “On how ‘quiet' you want the evening to be.”

Heat curled through her veins. “I suppose it doesn't have to be
that
quiet.”

“Mmm. I'm listening.”

She turned in his embrace, wreathing her arms around his neck and smiling into his dark eyes. “Let's start with a hot shower, and see how loud the evening gets from there. Sound good?”


Very
good.” Lowering his head, Roderick kissed her deeply and intimately, letting her know how much he desired her.

And for now, that was enough.

 

“Well? What do you think?”

Lips pursed, Lena wandered slowly around the luxurious penthouse, which was indistinguishable from
the last four penthouses she and Roderick had already visited that morning. Each property had boasted lavish interiors and the requisite floor-to-ceiling windows that offered sweeping views of Tokyo's cityscape.

“Lena?” Roderick prompted.

She turned around to face him. “It's nice.”

Across the living room, the real estate agent made a strangled sound in his throat and gaped at her.
“Nice?”
he echoed incredulously.

“Very nice,” Lena amended, lips quirking.

He frowned. “You
do
realize that this is one of the most expensive properties in Tokyo?”

Lena smiled sweetly. “You may have mentioned that once or twice before.”

The short, wiry Japanese man flushed with indignation. “Mr. Brand is a wealthy, prominent businessman,” he said in an imperious voice. “Where he resides should be a reflection of his status.”

“I realize that,” Lena said mildly. “But I also think it should reflect more than the size of his bank account.”

The man gave Roderick an aggrieved look, as if to ask,
Why is she here?

Eyes glimmering with amusement, Roderick said smoothly, “Would you mind giving us a minute?”

The real estate agent frowned with displeasure. “We're on a very tight—”

“This'll only take a minute.”

The man hesitated, then drew himself up to his full height—all four feet eleven inches—and marched off in a huff.

Lena and Roderick looked at each other, then covered their mouths with their hands and cracked up laughing.

“Where'd you
find
that guy?” Lena whispered between giggles.

“Kawamoto recommended him,” Roderick whispered back. “He's supposed to be one of the top real estate brokers in Tokyo.”

“Well, he has lousy people skills.”

Roderick grinned. “I'm sure he ain't too pleased with you either. If he could physically look down his nose at you, he would.”

Lena's peal of laughter was muffled against Roderick's chest as he pulled her swiftly into his arms.

“Is everything all right?” the real estate agent inquired suspiciously from the doorway.

Roderick glanced up. “Hmm? Oh, yeah, everything's fine. She's just…overcome by the beautiful view.”

“Do you need more time?”

Stroking Lena's shaking shoulders, Roderick replied, “A few more minutes. Thanks.”

After the Realtor had gone, Lena hiccuped and raised teary eyes to Roderick's amused face. “I'm sorry. Maybe I should have stayed back at the hotel. You know that man's gonna talk bad about you and your atrocious taste in women.”

“Probably.” Roderick grinned. “But I'm glad you came anyway.”

“Are you? I know I haven't been much help.”

Roderick chuckled. “Now that you mention it, you
have
found fault with every property we've looked at so far.”

“I know.” Lena sighed, glancing around dispassionately. “It's just that these penthouses all look the same to me. Don't get me wrong. They're absolutely gorgeous. The ultimate in luxury living. But they lack…What's the word I'm looking for?”

“Personality?” Roderick suggested.

“Exactly! They lack personality. And they're so Westernized,” she complained. “I mean, what's the point of living in another country if you're gonna buy a place that looks like something you could easily find back home?”

Roderick followed her gaze around the penthouse. “I can definitely see what you mean. But I'm only going to be living in Tokyo a few months at a time. The most important thing to me is proximity to the office.”

“I know. And your real estate agent is right about one thing. You have an image to uphold, and your home should reflect that. You're going to be entertaining a lot of clients, so you can't exactly invite them to a dinner party in the slums.”

“That probably wouldn't be good for business,” Roderick agreed wryly.

Lena pursed her lips, critically appraising the penthouse. “Why did you choose to stay at The Peninsula? What's your favorite thing about it?”

Roderick shrugged. “It has the best views of the Imperial Palace East Garden.”

Lena snapped her fingers. “That's it! That's what you need.”

She called the real estate agent back into the living room. Once she explained to him what she was looking for, they headed to another high-rise in Tokyo Midtown. But the moment they stepped through the door of the apartment, Lena knew they'd found a winner. The spacious, ultramodern residence had an open floor plan with glass wall dividers that created private nooks within each room. Everything about the Japanese-inspired design exuded simple elegance—the black-and-cream color scheme, exposed timber planks in the
ceiling, high-tech lighting, Japanese silk screens and exotic bamboo flooring. And the pièce de résistance? A private rooftop terrace that featured a tranquil, lushly landscaped Zen garden.

Gazing around in awed admiration, Lena said, “Now
this
—”

“—has personality,” Roderick finished, and they smiled at each other.

“The property just came on the market,” the real estate agent told them, sounding very pleased with himself. As though it had been
his
idea to find the place.

Lena and Roderick traded another grin.

“I'll take it,” he said.

Chapter Twenty-Three

T
hat evening they attended a show at a Kabuki theater and had dinner with Ichiro and Natsumi Kawamoto, along with a few of the couple's close acquaintances. At one point during the meal, Lena found herself the center of attention when someone asked her how she'd learned to speak Japanese.

“When I was in high school,” she explained, “a Japanese family moved into my neighborhood. I became friends with the girl who was my age. In exchange for teaching her how to swim, she taught me Japanese.”

Approving nods and smiles went around the table. Ichiro Kawamoto humorously advised Roderick, “You'd be wise to marry this woman and take her with you wherever you go in Japan. That way if someone is badmouthing you, she can translate the insults for you.”

As everyone laughed, Lena and Roderick stared at
each other. The piercing intensity of his gaze made her knees knock together so hard she had to reach under the table and put a steadying hand on her legs.

Before leaving the restaurant, she excused herself to use the ladies' room. When she emerged, she stumbled upon Roderick and Kawamoto conversing in a corner near the restaurant's foyer. She was about to keep walking when she heard Roderick laugh and say to the other man, “Thanks, my friend, but I'm not in the market for a wife. I won't be for a very long time.”

Something twisted in Lena's stomach, and she hurried away before Roderick saw her standing there.

Good thing she hadn't looked forward to him proposing after dessert.

 

Later that night, Lena lay awake in bed staring up at the ceiling, mentally replaying Roderick's words. She didn't want to examine why she was so bothered by what she'd overheard. She had no illusions about their relationship. She'd known the rules from the start. And after everything Zandra had told her about Roderick, tonight's comments shouldn't have come as such an unpleasant surprise to her. But they had. And she was afraid to ask herself why. “Lena.”

She jumped slightly. She'd been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn't noticed Roderick watching her quietly, his face cast in moonlit shadows.

“I thought you were asleep,” she murmured.

“I was.” A note of wry amusement laced his voice. “All the commotion woke me up.”

“What commotion?”

He reached over and gently tapped her temple. “From the thoughts tumbling around in there.”

She smiled, but said nothing.

“You're not going to tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

“What you were thinking about.”

She shifted, resting her head on her folded arm and closing her eyes. “I was thinking about your new apartment and how great it is that you can move in right away.”

“Liar,” Roderick said softly.

She didn't deny it.

A long silence lapsed between them. Just when she thought he'd drifted back to sleep, he murmured, “Why did you become an escort?”

The question, and the timing, caught her off guard. She opened her eyes and stared at him, but it was too dark to decipher his expression.

“Why do you want to know?” she countered calmly.

“There's nothing about you I
don't
want to know.”

That shut her up for several moments. God, the things he
said
to her sometimes. The things he
did.
What was a woman supposed to think?

“Lena,” he prompted.

She moistened her lips. “I wanted to make some extra money.”

“To take care of your grandfather,” Roderick stated.

“Yes.”

“You wanted to put him in the best retirement home money could buy.”

She nodded. “It was the least I could do for him.”

Roderick said quietly, “You're a wonderful granddaughter, Lena. Incredibly generous and unselfish.”

She flushed, embarrassed by his praise. “I try to be.”

“You are.” His tone brooked no argument.

She smiled a little. “Thank you for saying that.”

“I'm just speaking the truth.” He paused. “So your grandfather doesn't know that you work as an escort. That's why you couldn't tell him how we met.”

Her smile faded. “No. He doesn't know. And I'd prefer to keep it that way.”

“Because he wouldn't approve.”

Lena sighed. “No, he wouldn't.”

Roderick fell silent. But she knew he still had questions for her. She'd been waiting for him to bring up Glenn for the past three days. On one hand she welcomed an opportunity to explain her behavior. On the other hand, she resented the fact that she felt compelled to explain anything. She'd made a terrible mistake by sleeping with Glenn, but that didn't mean she owed Roderick an explanation
or
an apology.

So why did she feel like she did?

“Do you enjoy it?”

His voice pulled her out of her musings. “Enjoy what? Being an escort?”

“Yeah.”

She hesitated. “I do, actually.”

“Why?”

She wondered if she'd only imagined the note of censure edging his voice. Striving not to sound defensive, she answered evenly, “I enjoy meeting new people, having new experiences.” She paused. “I had a wonderful childhood. My grandparents were very loving and attentive, and Poppa worked tirelessly to ensure that we'd never want for anything. But as great as my
upbringing was, it was also very…sheltered. I didn't realize how big the world was until I started college at UCLA, and even then I commuted from home to save my grandfather money on housing.”

She sighed. “I guess what I'm trying to say is that being an escort has opened up a whole new world to me. You're rich, so maybe you take for granted what it's like to be at a party attended by Oprah, or the governor, or even a Saudi sheikh.”

“I wasn't always rich,” Roderick said shortly.

“But you are now, and chances are you will be for the rest of your life.”

He said nothing.

She could feel the tension emanating from his body. Tension fueled by some unnamed emotion. The words he'd spoken to Kawamoto echoed through her mind, and suddenly she was struck by the thought that Roderick would never consider her potential wife material—or even girlfriend material—as long as she worked as an escort.

Why should that matter to you?
her conscience challenged.
You're not interested in becoming his girlfriend or his wife.

But it bothered her that she was good enough to bed but apparently not good enough to wed.

Frowning, she rolled over, turning away from him.

After several moments, he said in a low voice, “I wasn't criticizing you, Lena. I hope you know that.”

She didn't respond.

“If you weren't an escort,” he added huskily, “we never would have met. So I'm feeling pretty grateful right now.”

Her chest squeezed. She closed her eyes, and wasn't surprised when two warm tears leaked out, rolled across her face and melted into her pillow.

She was officially in over her head.

BOOK: Whatever You Like
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