Living in Sin (Living In…) (5 page)

She bit down on the words. No, she wasn’t going to tell him that. She wanted to leave the whole illness thing out of this, especially when the whole reason she was here was to seduce him.

Sure, tell him about the cancer. Needles and vomit and blood and catheters. That’s pretty damn seductive, right?

Lily straightened in her chair, picked up her own tumbler and took a sip of her scotch, resisting the urge to chug it straight down. “All right, I’ll tell you then. I’ve spent the last thirteen years of my life dancing.” Even when she was in hospital she was still dancing, in her head. “Ballet is what I live. What I breathe. Right from the moment my mother took me to my first lesson when I was five, that’s what I wanted to do. That’s
all
I wanted to do.”

The cynical smile twisting his mouth had eased and now he was looking at her from beneath his lashes. There was something quite focused about the look, something that made her breath catch.

God, even though she was quite pissed with him, he was so unbearably sexy sitting there with his long legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles. His black shirt unbuttoned at the neck and sleeves rolled up to reveal the long, lean muscles of his forearms and supple wrists. She could see the black ink on his skin, just a glimpse peeking out from underneath his shirt, so insanely hot.

“I hate to have to say this, love,” he said after a moment, “but honestly, how does loving ballet make you special? I mean…Jesus…if that’s the only thing you’re interested in, no wonder you’re still a virgin.”

The words stung. But she’d already worked out that getting mad about his outrageous statements wasn’t going help. Which meant she had to do things a bit differently. Surprise him. In fact, hadn’t that been what he’d been trying to tell her before? Be original…

With a conscious effort, Lily relaxed the tension in her shoulders. “You’re right,” she said mildly. “I’m a fucking awful conversationalist. Would you believe I’ve never even had a boyfriend?” It was, sadly, true. Not that she was that sad about it. Before she’d gotten sick, a boyfriend seemed like way too much distraction from dancing, and afterwards… Well, afterwards, who wanted a skinny redhead in remission from cancer? And besides, being touched by death changed a person. Stained them. People could sense it and it made them uncomfortable so they avoided you.

“I can believe that,” Kahu said, finishing the last of his scotch and setting his tumbler down. “You’re also a lousy seductress.”

“Gee. Thanks.”

“Isn’t that why you’re here? To learn how not to be a lousy seductress?”

Lily picked up a pawn since it was her turn and put it somewhere that was hopefully threatening. “I am. In which case, if I’m lousy, what does that say about you as a teacher?”

He shifted, leaning over to study the board and she couldn’t stop from watching him move. Powerful, muscular, built solid and strong. And yet there was a grace to him she hadn’t expected. Like one of those massive, big, predatory cats.

The thought made awareness shiver over her skin.

He’d be able to lift her no problem. Those long fingers would grip her hips, his muscles would flex and she’d be airborne. She’d never want to stop flying…

“I’m not your teacher, ballerina,” he said, moving his queen to take her knight in yet another move she hadn’t seen coming. “I’m merely here for you to practice your technique on.”

She swallowed, the aware, shivery feeling moving lower down inside her as he curled his fingers around the knight and put it to the side of the board. “But how can I practice when I have no technique? Maybe I need a teacher.”

He sat back in his chair again, that enigmatic dark gaze of his meeting hers. “Oh come on, Lily. It’s not that hard. You have a brain, don’t you? I’m sure you can figure it out. I’m only a man and men are relatively simple creatures.”

She found herself chewing on her lip again and stopped. “Simple? You?”

“Yeah, pretty much. I like a good scotch. I like good sex. And…” He paused, something glinting in his eyes. “I’m enjoying this chess game rather more than I thought I would.”

Warmth crept through her, heating her cheeks. But she didn’t want him to know how much the tiny compliment had affected her so she looked once more at the chessboard. “I thought we weren’t going to do likes and dislikes?”

He laughed, a shockingly sensual sound. “We weren’t. Maybe your technique isn’t so lousy after all.”

And that felt like another victory.

She leaned her elbow on the arm of her chair, aware of the way the fabric of her T-shirt pulled tight across her breasts, the cotton soft against her sensitive nipples. Weird. She’d never been aware of that kind of thing before. Never thought that just that light brush against her skin could feel…good.

Then she became aware of something else.

He was looking.

Heat prickled all over her in a scalding rush. Her throat closed and her breathing faltered, her heart thumping heavily in her chest. She could feel her nipples tightening into hard little points, becoming even more sensitive.

There was silence in the room, a dense kind of energy gathering between them.

She should probably move, put an arm across her chest. Hide herself. And part of her, the frightened part, wanted to. But she’d been fighting too long to listen to that small, frightened voice, so she stayed where she was. Leaning against her hand with her T-shirt pulled tight, nipples pushing against the fabric. Visible.

And when he raised his gaze from her breasts, she met it, determined not to look away. Wanting to be certain that he was looking at what she thought he was looking at.

A muscle ticked in his jaw and something hot glittered for a second in his night-dark eyes. Something she wanted to reach out and grab onto with every fiber of her being.

Then, without any hurry at all, as if she hadn’t just caught him looking at her tits, Kahu looked down at his watch. “Your hour is up. Time to go, ballerina.”

Chapter Five

“I have to be honest with you, Kahu. I’m not happy about it.”

It was after six thirty and the Ivy Room at the Auckland Club was starting to get crowded with after-work drinkers. Rob had dropped in for a quick business catch-up and they were seated at their usual table by the balcony that overlooked the city.

The man was frowning and looking understandably pissed considering Kahu had just mentioned the fact that he was preparing to sell the club.

“I knew you wouldn’t be,” he said, leaning his elbows on the table. “So I’m giving you a heads-up in case you want to buy out my share and manage it yourself.”

Rob shook his head. “I’m not in any position to be buying you out at the moment. I have other commitments.”

Kahu lifted a shoulder. “I’m sorry. But I can’t keep the place forever.”

“Why not? Anita left it to you for a reason.”

He sat back in his chair, his subconscious aware of the noise of the bar, the gentle hum of conversation sounding like the big, happy family he’d never had.

Giving it up would be hard, but he had to get out. Go somewhere different. Recapture whatever it was he’d lost over the years. Whatever it was he’d lost along with Anita.

“I don’t want to keep doing this forever, Rob. I need to move on eventually.”

The other man sighed. Age had only settled the handsome lines of his face more completely onto him, the atmospheric lighting of the room hiding the worst of the wrinkles and the silver in his blond hair. He looked almost like he had when Kahu had first met him at twenty, when Kahu had been Anita’s “new project”.

He looks like his daughter.

Oh fuck, he did not need that thought in his head.

“Anita spent years building this place up,” Rob said. “I’d hate to see it go to some developer who’s only going to knock it down.”

“They can’t knock it down. The building is classified.”

Rob snorted. “You know that means nothing in this town. Not when the only thing they’re worrying about is their bottom line.”

He wasn’t wrong. Selling the Auckland Club would probably mean some kind of demolition. That was just the way it was.

Perhaps you wouldn’t mind this place being knocked down. Serve fucking Anita right, wouldn’t it?

The anger in the thought was momentarily confusing. Shit, since when had she become
fucking Anita
? He’d never felt that way about her. She’d rescued him from his rent boy existence, she’d given him everything. Why the hell would he be angry with her?

At that point, he felt a touch on his shoulder and then came Mike’s whisper in his ear. “Miss Andrews is at the door.”

Holy Christ. Of course. It was Monday.

Kahu looked down at the phone on the table and sure enough, it was dead on seven. Lily.

A surge of some emotion he didn’t want to look too closely at went through him. Had it really been a week since he’d hustled her out of his study fully ten minutes before the hour was up? And all because she’d caught him staring at her tits.

He couldn’t even think why that had disturbed him so much because breasts weren’t inherently disturbing. He was a fan of them in fact. Was a fan of most parts of a woman’s body. Maybe it was more that he’d determined he wasn’t going to view Lily in a sexual way and yet, despite all his good intentions, he hadn’t been able to look away. The thin cotton of her T-shirt had pulled tight, molding beautifully to her small curves. Yet it wasn’t even so much the shape that had kept his gaze riveted but the way her nipples had hardened as he’d watched. As if he’d touched them. And then he’d glanced up and met her eyes and knew she’d caught him looking. And that she’d liked it.

“Boss? Should I let her in?”

Opposite him, Rob raised a brow. “Problem?”

What would Rob think if he knew his daughter was coming to the Auckland Club for “seduction lessons” from Kahu? The guy didn’t have a temper, but Kahu was betting he’d soon find it if he saw Lily standing outside the club.

Perhaps he should send her away, nip this ridiculousness in the bud. Go and find himself a woman, not a girl, to lust over. After all, there were plenty of those to be had. The club itself was full of them.

So you’re going to let a twenty-year-old girl get the better of you? Just because she caught you staring at her tits?

Good fucking point. What kind of message would that send if he sent her away? That he couldn’t handle himself? That he couldn’t handle her? Christ, she wasn’t that special.

“Boss?”

“Yeah,” Kahu said. “Show her into my study.” He looked over at Rob. “Sorry, I’m going to have to go. Got a hot date.”

Rob rolled his eyes. “Of course you do. Well, go on then, don’t let me stop you.”

You might. If you knew who was waiting for me.

Kahu said his goodbyes and made his way out of the Ivy Room. He took his time because he wasn’t in that much of a hurry and it wouldn’t hurt her to wait.

So it was a full ten minutes after seven when he finally opened the door and stepped into the room.

Lily was standing over by the bookshelves looking at the books. She was in jeans, dark blue skinnies, worn at the knees. Under her ubiquitous duffel coat he could see she wore a soft-looking black sweater—no tight little T-shirts today, thank Christ. She had her hair tied back in a ponytail, a riot of red-blonde curls down her spine.

“You forgot I was coming, right?” She didn’t look at him, gazing steadily at the books.

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, you’re late. And the room is freezing.”

It was true. He hadn’t bothered with the fire and since the building was old and the insulation shitty, the room had a chill to it.

Why hadn’t he lit the fire?

You know why.

Of course he did. He’d spent the whole week deliberately not thinking about her, minimizing her in his head. Making sure she was in no way special. Making her forgettable.

But when have you ever fought against an attraction?

He never had and that was the problem. And by fighting it, he was already making her different.

She finally turned to him, the delicate lines of her face a feminine echo of her father’s. Again, no makeup except for a swipe of mascara and a faint berry stain to her lips. Fresh-faced and so achingly young. “Are we on for tonight or what?”

He wanted to tell her no. That he’d changed his mind and that it would be for the best if she left. But doing that would admit he’d let her get to him, that she was different, and there was no way in hell he was going to grant her that kind of power.

Besides, she’d already set up the chessboard.

“We’re on.” He moved over to the fire. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll get the fire lit.”

Lily didn’t move from the bookshelf. “You owe me at least twenty minutes.”

“I don’t owe you anything, love,” he said mildly, balling up paper and putting it into the grate, then reaching for some kindling. “These sessions are entirely at my discretion.”

“You said an hour.”

“And I can change that whenever I want.”

“That isn’t fair.”

“Life’s not fair, sweetheart.” He arranged the kindling on top of the paper and took out his lighter.

“Jesus, you sound like my father.”

And wasn’t that a good thing? The more she thought of him as a father the better, right? “You know where the door is if you don’t like it.” He lit the paper, staying crouched in front of the fire, watching as it caught alight.

There was silence behind him.

He’d been harsh. Too harsh, maybe? Then again, she needed to be reminded who held the power here, that he wasn’t to be screwed with. And that if she was going to persist in coming here, it was his rules she had to follow.

“I like your books,” she said after a moment.

Kahu put a few larger sticks onto the fire, then rose to his feet and turned.

She’d taken out one of the books and had opened it, looking down. “Oh. Who’s Anita?”

A small thread of shock wound through him and he’d taken a step toward her before he could stop himself. Shit, she must have found the copy of
Anna Karenina
Anita had given him. Her favorite book.

He pushed his hands into the pockets of his jeans, trying to get himself to calm the fuck down. What did it matter if she’d found it? It was just a book. And the inscription in the front,
To Kahu, Remember: “There are as many kinds of love as there are hearts.” Anita.
Well, that didn’t mean anything either.

“You must remember Anita,” he said. “Anita Howard.”

“Oh yeah, her. She was a really good friend of Dad’s.” Lily glanced back at him. “She used to come for dinner a lot. And she’d bring you.”

The small child sitting at the table, staring at him with wide green eyes. Like she’d never seen a poor Maori boy before. He’d winked at her once, when Rob and Anita had been talking about some exhibition or other, boring shit as he’d thought back then. And the child had seemed just as bored as he’d been.

“Yes. She did.”

“Why?” The question was blunt as a hammer-blow. Lily flushed. “Uh…I guess that’s kind of personal. Sorry.”

Kahu stared at her. Surely she must know about his relationship with Anita? Or at least have guessed? Then again, she’d been a child back then so why would she?

“Anita and I were together.” There wasn’t a good word for the kind of relationship he’d had with Anita so he didn’t try labeling it. “She thought bringing me to dinner with Rob would…teach me a few things.” Like how to have a polite discussion that didn’t include
fuck
in every sentence.

“You were together?” Her surprise was obvious. “I didn’t realize that.”

“What did you think then?”

She shrugged. “I dunno. That you were a friend or something.”

“Well, I wasn’t.” He walked over to the couch and held out his hand. “The book, please.”

Her gaze had narrowed as he approached, as if she was trying to work something out, but she handed it over without a protest.

The weight of the book was familiar as his fingers closed around it. He’d held it many times over the years, reading aloud to Anita in her sunny room at the rest home.
Anna Karenina
had been all she’d wanted to hear in the final years as lucidity gradually slipped out of her reach.

Happy families are all alike; every unhappy family is unhappy in its own way
…

“You’re curious, little girl?” He stared at her, irritated for some reason he couldn’t fathom. Like she was trespassing on his territory and not even realizing it was his. “Is that what that expression on your face is?”

She must have picked up on his annoyance because her shoulders hunched defensively and she shifted on her feet. “Of course I’m curious. But you don’t have to tell me if you don’t—”

“I was a rent boy for a few years when I was a teenager. I’d finished with a client when some guy ran past me with a purse. There was a woman on the pavement and she’d been knocked down, so I helped her up. Then I went and found the mugger, beat the shit out of him and got her purse back for her. The woman was Anita.”

Lily blinked, her mouth falling open.

His history, greatly condensed. Not all that shocking when told like that, but no doubt the words “rent boy” would conjure up certain images for her. Well, that was okay. The quicker she saw him for what he was, the better it would be for all concerned. His past was what it was and he’d never tried to hide it. Plus, it was his to give and he could give it to anyone he liked.

“She took an interest in me,” he went on. “She got me off the streets. She started off being my first female client and ended up being my last.”

Lily’s mouth closed with a snap. There was a blush on her cheeks for reasons he couldn’t be bothered to figure out. Because really, why the hell was
she
blushing? None of this had anything to do with her.

“Oh,” she said.

“Curiosity satisfied?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” He turned and went over to the booze cabinet, putting the book down and getting out the glasses, pouring them each a measure of scotch. Anger burned and he couldn’t work out why. He wasn’t ashamed of his past. In fact, sometimes he got off on telling people his background. It gave him control over it and he liked having control, that was for damn sure.

Perhaps it was only Anita’s name being mentioned and the way it brought back old memories.

Or maybe you just don’t want Lily to know those things because she might change her mind about you.

Kahu picked up his tumbler, drained it and poured himself out another measure. The alcohol warmed him, took the edge off the anger. Yeah, and she should change her mind about him. He wasn’t a weedy little Remuera boy, with a bank account full of Daddy’s money and an old boys network to protect him. He was an ex-prostitute from South Auckland with indiscriminate tastes, who ran an exclusive Auckland club infamous for its risqué parties.

Which meant that if she was looking for a housecat, she shouldn’t be searching for one in a lion’s den.

He picked up both glasses and stalked over to where she’d set up the chessboard, putting hers down to the side before going back to his chair and throwing himself down into it. “Okay,” he said roughly. “Are you ready to play fucking chess or what?”

He was angry. There was a hot glitter in his eyes and his sensual mouth had twisted in that cynical sneer she’d seen the last few times they’d met. She didn’t understand what she’d done, but obviously it had something to do with the book she’d pulled down. And with Anita Howard.

Maybe she shouldn’t have been poking around in his bookshelves, but then how was she to know that particular book was sensitive? People didn’t usually mind others looking at their books in any case. He’d kept her waiting too, so she’d had to do something.

Regardless of her own justifications, however, she’d overstepped somehow and had screwed up the atmosphere between them. Instead of the warm, sensuality of the week before, there was now a chill and hard edges, hardly conducive to seduction.

Refusing to give in to disappointment, Lily slipped off her coat and slung it over the back of the couch. Then she went to her armchair and sat down. She felt cold but tried not to show it, picking up her scotch and taking a healthy swallow in the hope the burn of the alcohol would help. Her head was still spinning from the revelations he’d told her.