Akira Tong for Christmas (5 page)

Everywhere you look the Christmas spirit is just right there.” I chewed my lip a bit. “Why don’t you celebrate Christmas, anyway?”

“Because it’s a waste of money.” Like he’d told to me a million times and he wasn’t sure how in the world I couldn’t see that.

What a bummer he was. “I’m not trying to convert you, but it’d be nice if you put up with me introducing you to Christmas cookies and coffee before we head over to Fifth Avenue.” He shrugged. “If you must.”

Guess that was as good as it would get with him.

I got our order of macadamia nut cookies and caramel coffee, turned, and found him standing patiently right behind me. “We have time. Why don’t we sit a few minutes?” I headed to the nearest booth and sat.
And that’s how I will conduct this day, Mr. Tong. My way, unless you insist otherwise.

I took a sip of coffee, and immediately my mouth had an orgasm. “Mmmm. Taste…the…coffee! For me. Please. I promise you, you’ll love it.”

“For you?” He gave one of those in-your-dreams half grins. But then he lifted his cup and tasted. I watched his expression, waiting eagerly for that orgasm of deliciousness.

It never came.

“You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Well, you’re not acting like it. I can’t believe you don’t like it.” I couldn’t hide my disbelief and disappointment.

“Just because I don’t erupt in exaggerated theatrics like you doesn’t mean I don’t like it.”

“So you
do
like it.”

“It’s too sweet.”

“Too sweet! You’re nuts. It’s perfect.” I drank more of mine, now that it was a little cooler.

“Mmmmm, my God. I cannot believe you don’t love this.”

“I can’t believe you do. You’ll rot your teeth drinking and eating this junk. Not to mention get fatter.” I nearly spit my coffee. “Fatter? You’re saying I’m fat?”

He shrugged, peering out the window. “You’re not skinny.”

I tried to laugh but ended up choking out some kind of weird squeal. “And I suppose that’s a bad thing? That I’m not anorexic like…like all your fashion models? Half-starving with my bones protruding out? No hips, no butt, a skeleton walking around in skin?” My voice rose, but dammit, what an ass.

He actually smiled and met my angry gaze. Finally, life in those brown eyes. Mean and cruel, but better than Mr. Walking Dead Man. “I don’t think you have to worry about ever losing your butt.” His eyes dropped to my chest. He licked his annoyingly sexy lips and turned his annoyingly sexy gaze out the window again.

“No. Do go on. Finish your little verbal parade of my fat body parts. Your…your verbal barrage. I think you were about to address my breasts.”

He looked back at me, shit-eating grin barely concealed. “Well, there’s not much to really address there.” He added a chuckle to his smile, highly amused with himself.

Fury forged my backbone into an iron rod. “Why am I surprised? Actually I’m not; it makes sense that you’re just like the rest of the stupid men in this world who think huge tits are the bomb.” He gave me innocent eyes. “The bomb? Men here actually think large tits are explosive?”

“Cute. Real cute.” I nodded endlessly. “Big tits aren’t everything, and I could care less what you think of mine.” Tears stung my eyes, and I glanced away.

He growled and spoke something in Japanese. “I was teasing you. All this easygoing, joy-to-the-world holiday spirit and one joke breaks you. I don’t get it.” I tried to stop the stupid tears, but they just kept coming. “I’m not bothered!” I scooted out of the seat.

“Asshole.”

After storming out of the bakery, I halted on the sidewalk, trying to talk myself down from that fuck-this-shit ledge. Fuck this and the obnoxious horse stuck up that man’s ass that he rode in on. I took a deep breath of the cold, crisp air.
Anna
… I released the breath.
Think of Anna.

I heard a click and found Mr. Tong next to me. He’d taken a picture of me with his phone!

I reached to snatch it from him, but he evaded me. “I like taking pictures.”

“Of crying women?” I didn’t hide how sick I thought that was.

“It’s part of life.” He snapped one again, and I glared at him. He turned the camera vertical and snapped.

Oh my God, this…man!

I busted out laughing at the dumb bastard. “Fine, let’s go, but I swear if you say one more thing about my body, I will kick you in the balls, Mr. Tong.”

“How are you still mispronouncing my name?” He sounded fascinated.

I put my hands on my hips. “Well, maybe because it’s the oddest-spelled name ever.” All I heard was clicking, and I glanced to find him behind me now with that shit-eating grin. “At least wait till there’s something worthwhile to shoot.”

“I find you much more fascinating than anything else here.” Snap, snap.

He took a few more, then pointed the camera at the street and clicked several of an old car passing.

“Oh, whaddaya know. You like classic cars?”

“I love them.”

My heart stuttered at those words of affection. Especially because he’d looked me in the eye when he said them. Bye-bye, insult on my tongue. Stupid girl.

He gestured forward with a hand. “Lead the way, Ms. Shelby.” We passed vendor after vendor on the roadside, and Mr. Tong stopped at a poorly dressed old woman selling half-dead flowers. I craned my neck to watch him pull out a wad of money and stuff it into her vase on the cart.

He bowed, then headed back with the flower and handed it to me without looking. I glanced at the pitiful rose, and tears blurred my vision. Then they were rolling down my face as I took it from him. He growled Japanese to me. “Why are you crying?”

I shook my head, unable to speak.

He sighed long. “I’m sorry about what I said earlier.”

His voice had softened. Wanting to see what that kindness looked like on him, I peered up and found the skin between his brows pinched with anguish. He slid his thumb over my cheek and wiped away the tears. “You’re going to turn into an icicle if you cry out here.” I gasped a laugh with the giddy joy his mood change brought, and dabbed my face with the sleeve of my wool coat. I smelled the flower. “That was…really sweet of you.” He snorted and took a few pictures of the buildings around us. “I give you a withered flower, and you find that sweet?”

“No. That you helped the old woman, silly.”

He shrugged. “I’m rich. It was nothing.”

I slapped his arm. “Stop that. It was something.”

And he was a lot sweeter than what he led people to believe, I was beginning to realize. We took a cab to Central Park, then traveled by foot. Then it started to snow! I spun all around, gazing up. “It’s snowing!” I opened my mouth, catching a fat flake with my tongue. I felt silly when I found his brooding gaze on me.

But before I could worry too much, the clop of hooves caught my attention, and I turned. “A horse-drawn cart!” At hearing the virgin New Yorker in my tone, I added, “You surely see those things every day.”

I watched the rich brown mare snorting vapor. Mr. Tong whistled loudly and headed toward the carriage.

Stifling a squeal, I hurried after him.

I got to the door Mr. Tong held open and tossed my purse in. His hands gripped my waist. “I’ll lift you.”

Gosh, more unexpected chivalry. I wished I could feel how amazing that had to be. My humongous coat prevented that. He climbed in after me and shut the door. I barely managed to keep my giggling and wiggling to a modest minimum. After sweeping the park with a panoramic gaze, I found him staring at me with a curious look. “What?”

He went to studying the landscape, mumbling Japanese.

“What! What did you say?” I lightened my tone. “You know, it’s not nice to speak Japanese in front of people who don’t understand it. Didn’t your mother ever teach you that?” He gave me one of his obnoxious, condescending chuckles.

“And now you’re laughing at me.” I fought to control my temper. “You remind me of a little naughty butterfly, flitting from one rudeness to another.” Wow, I was a moron. “Just joking, of course.” I waved a hand.

His laughter trilled out, deep and sexy, making my humiliation almost worth it. He finally met my soothed gaze. “And didn’t your mother ever teach you to curb your tongue? Do you always say everything that’s on your mind?”

I took in his smile. And that cute dimple. God, he was gorgeous when he smiled. “Yes, she did. I just wasn’t a very good student.”

His face slowly sobered as he stared at me. Like the sun disappearing behind a mean black cloud.

“It’s too cold out here. And it’s getting late.” He glanced at his watch. “I need to meet my associate in three hours.”

My disappointment slipped out in a moan.

“We’ll leave after we tour Central Park?” he asked.

I shrugged. “Doesn’t matter to me.” I put my gloved hands to my mouth and blew warm breath through the wool.

“You’re freezing.” He scooted closer to me and pulled my gloves off, then put my iced fingers in his coat, pressing them under his arms. I could hardly believe he’d done it. I closed my eyes and relished his heat, shamelessly imagining what his naked body would feel like next to mine. A tremor rolled through me, and my jaw began to rattle uncontrollably.

He drew one of my hands out and warmed my tingling fingers with his hot breath. Might as well have been my clit he was blowing on for all the throbbing it was doing. I stared at his lips, mesmerized, imagining what they’d feel like other places. On my lips. My neck. I swallowed as I envisioned them open around my nipple. His tongue…

My breath caught when he switched my hands and warmed the other one in like manner, making the desire between my legs difficult to sit still with. I studied his smooth face and ended caught in his stormy gaze. It was so brief, that moment, that spark, but it lit me on fire seeing it in his eyes—desire. Fleeting, momentary desire.

But desire nonetheless.

He gave me back my hands and gloves.

“What about you?” I took his gloves off and held his iced fingers to my mouth, breathing warm breath on them. I peeked up at him and found his gaze fixed on my mouth. He seemed to be in pain.

Did I disgust him?

“I would put it in my coat, but I don’t think that would be very appropriate.” I angled a smile at him, but his expression didn’t waver. Still tumultuous. Shit. “Okay.” I released him. “No more for you unless you’re paying.” I gave him his gloves.

“You charge for your services?”

I narrowed my gaze at him, not liking that he seemed to take my joke so seriously. Why did he have to ruin a perfectly good mood? “No, Mr. Tong, I don’t. I’m a virgin, remember?”

“Ah yes, I forgot. A very willing virgin.”

He wasn’t smiling; he still looked tormented and suffering. What did that mean? I went by his most persistent track record and put my wager on asshole.

“That was a onetime deal. You can be sure it will never happen again.”

“Hard to imagine you’re a virgin,” he said.

I jerked toward him. “And why is that?”

He shrugged. “You don’t act like one.”

Heat burned in my cheeks. “That’s not what you said when we first met.” I raised my brows.

“That was before you came on to me.”

Damn, he was so bold. I shrugged, stumped for an answer. “Whatever.”

“Whatever?”

I glared at him. “I’m saying it’s the first time I’ve ever done that. And I don’t care if you believe me.

I’m not here to impress you. And I don’t know why I’m even interested; you’re the rudest man ever.”

“Interested?”

“Yes, past tense.”

“But you said I
am
interested,” he pointed out.

I smirked. “I
was
. Is that better, Mr. English Professor?”

“I don’t really care either way.”

“Oh, that’s perfect, ’cause neither do I.”

He was quiet for a few seconds. “You must be getting hungry. Are you ready to go back?” I sat there staring at him, confused. Asshole, sweetheart, asshole, sweetheart. What an infuriating, wonderful man. But was he interested in me? That was the begging question. Sad as it was true, I was still willing to try to win him. Who was I kidding? I would grovel for his interest. And that was not a good sign for me.

* * * *

We finally made it to that meeting with his “acquaintance.” Now all I had to do was survive my worst nightmare come true—an honest-to-God meeting in a hot tub, straight out of a bad mafia drama. Me, Mr. Tong, and an older American guy—maybe midforties, coulda passed for thirty—and two hot babes, hanging out of their bikinis, flanking the guy’s shoulders and giggling in his ears.

We each had a wall of the giant square tub, with the one empty wall fortunately separating me from the threesome. Mr. Tong, I could hardly believe, was actually relaxing with his head back and his eyes closed. Unbelievable, this man’s composure. Unbelievable, his muscular neck. And chest. The black hair under his arms made my stomach erupt in those naughty butterflies. I’d gone full tramp, even dying to see the man’s groin hair.

It would be black. And soft, no doubt.

I had to wonder if he somehow felt my eyes on him, because he brought his head forward and aimed that sultry gaze at me. I couldn’t bring myself to turn away from his heavy stare. His eyes drifted to my chest. I resisted the urge to cover myself. Or check to see what he saw. Were my nipples showing through? Hard, maybe? My heart skipped when he finally met my gaze again. Dammit. What did that serious look mean? It was almost…hard and…angry.

“So, Anna, how about a dance?”

The crazy request snapped me out of my little fantasyland, and I turned wide eyes at the half-bald man across from me. A dance? What did he mean? “Oh, no, thanks. I’ll pass, but thank you. Very kind of you to offer.” Whatever the hell he was talking about.

He angled a weird come-on-don’t-be-shy stare at me. “No need to act coy around these two.” The babes. “You may be able to teach them a few moves, in fact.” Horror coursed through me at what he was implying. The girls giggled, and I chanced a glance at Mr.

Tong who, of course, had pulled his head forward and leveled those stormy eyes on me. Shit! What sort of business was Anna involved in? I waved a dismissive hand with a light laugh. “Maybe some other time.