A Gentleman in the Street Read online

  Hell, he’d made enough for both of them.

  “I don’t know, sweetheart. Maybe I should come home.”

  Out of his sight with her head poked into the fridge, she rolled her eyes. Poor, poor child. She grabbed the gallon of milk and plunked it on the counter next to the mugs.

  “Okay, okay. Ah. No. I don’t have a signal. It’s Akira’s phone.”

  The burst of excited chatter on the other end of the line was loud enough for Akira to hear. She raised an eyebrow as he cast her a discomfited glance and moved into the other room, shutting the door.

  Good thing the walls were so thin in these cheaply made cabins. She only had to tiptoe over and plaster herself against the door to eavesdrop, and his muffled words came through loud and clear. “Kati, calm down. No, I don’t know why she’s here. No. No.”

  Silence. Then, “Well, why did you tell her where the cabin is?”

  More quiet. A long-suffering sigh. “She’s smart. I’m sure that’s all she needed to figure it out.”

  At least he acknowledged she was smart. She would ignore the sigh.

  “Relax. You don’t need to worry about me. I can handle Akira.”

  The hell he could. Akira sniffed. Men didn’t handle her.

  There was no warning before the door opened. Startled, she pitched forward, steadied by a strong grip on her biceps. His eyes grew wide before he hastily righted her, his surprise morphing into discontent. “Of course she’s not here to cause trouble.”

  She raised an eyebrow at him. She would happily cause trouble. However, there was a fine line she needed to walk right now between pissing him off so much he kicked her out and maintaining the arm’s-length distance that kept him safely away from her squishiest parts.

  It would be easier to keep him at arm’s length if his hand hadn’t remained wrapped around her arm. Why had she not worn long sleeves?

  He spoke into the phone, but his gaze burned into Akira. “Have fun at Kristen’s, and I want you to contact me immediately if anything changes. I’ll go down the road and check my messages every couple of hours.” He hung up and glared at her. “Are you eavesdropping?”

  “That’s kind of a dumb question,” she pointed out. “What else would I have been doing, checking for termites?”

  Another gusty sigh left him. They were getting annoying.

  He sidestepped her, heading back to the kitchenette.

  “Um.” She glanced pointedly at her upper arm. “As much as I enjoy being dragged around, could you maybe lighten your grip a little?”

  He looked down and pulled away as if she’d scalded him, backpedaling until he bumped against the counter. His cheeks flushed a dull red. “Sorry. I’m, uh. I didn’t realize.”

  She massaged her arm. It tingled where he’d touched her.

  “Here.” He handed her the phone. There was no brushing of fingers this time. “Thanks.”

  “No problem.”

  He hesitated before speaking, every word dragged out of him. “Do you…want some coffee?”

  Ask him what you came to ask him and leave.

  But she was the one who had pulled out two mugs. A pink mug no less. “Sure. Black.”

  He poured the coffee and passed it over the counter. Akira grabbed the mug and took a bracing sip, her eye twitching at the hit of caffeine. Did Jacob ever sleep?

  “Too strong for you?”

  His tone was carefully neutral, but damned if she’d give him a single reason to feel superior. Trying to hide her grimace, she placed the mug on the counter. “Nope. I— Wait, is that skim milk? I didn’t realize. I love skim milk in my coffee.”

  “Do you?”

  “It’s my favorite.” She poured in a dollop of watery milk, until the liquid turned creamy brown. “Kati okay?” she asked when it was clear he wasn’t going to be forthcoming.

  He gave a terse nod. “She had a change of plans. Going to another friends tonight, but she won’t be picked up until much later.”

  Yeah, right, Akira thought cynically. “See? Told you there was a good reason.”

  “She also said she didn’t tell you where this place was.”

  “She didn’t. Don’t blame the kid for my superior deductive reasoning skills.”

  “You said she told you.”

  “She said you were on a writing retreat at your cabin. You’ve mentioned in interviews the general location of your cabin. It took about an hour to search the property records, and another hour to drive out here.” She tsked. “Really, you ought to be more careful. Bad enough you don’t write under a pen name. Any overzealous fan could find you.” Or an overzealous socialite turned businesswoman.

  “I’ll keep that in mind.” He drank his coffee, and she did the same, though the milk hadn’t helped the taste of the drink much. The silence stretched between them.

  “So.”

  “So.”

  He rolled his shoulders. “It’s been a while.”

  Akira eyed him warily. They weren’t adept at small talk. Thrust with a cutting remark, parry with a cold comment, duck heavy silence. That was their MO.

  What the hell. “Yeah. Six months, right?” Six months and eight days since her mother’s funeral. She vaguely remembered Jacob and his siblings attending, but she’d been out of it.

  She and the Campbells had been the closest thing to family her mother had had left, but there’d been lots of friends and acquaintances to pack the church. Akira’s father hadn’t come, because Akira’d refused to allow entrance to the camera crew hovering around him 24/7. Even without the cameras, she didn’t think she would have permitted him to show up. The woman deserved to not have her first husband, a man she’d utterly despised, at her funeral.

  Before that, Akira hadn’t seen Jacob in well over a year, since she had decided to stop inflicting her presence on her mother. So it had been a while.

  “Sounds right.” He shifted. “It’s strange without Mei. I didn’t realize she was such a big part of my family’s life until she was gone.”

  Akira nodded, though she couldn’t quite empathize. Mei had lived a comparatively quiet life after she’d divorced Akira’s father, but she had enjoyed socializing with non-Moris. Though Mei and Jacob’s father, Harvey, had divorced quickly, their parting had been mutual and surprisingly non-acrimonious. The Campbell siblings had been welcome guests on most holidays and special occasions. Occasions for which Akira’s presence had been demanded but begrudged.

  Did she miss her mother? Akira hadn’t known her well enough to miss her, and at the end, being around the woman had only led to sadness and guilt. She’d missed her chance at any degree of closure, though. She’d missed the chance to request absolution for being so fucking unlovable.

  Jacob’s eyes shifted to stare at a point to the right of her head. “The funeral was beautiful.”

  The funeral had been little more than a blur, coming a mere four days after her mother’s unexpected death. Unexpected to her, that is. She hadn’t known Mei had suffered a series of small strokes in the months leading up to her last days.

  Jacob, on the other hand, had visited her mother regularly on her sickbed.

  “Thanks. She planned it all before she died.”

  His lips softened. “I thought it was very tasteful.”

  Akira’s funeral wouldn’t be tasteful. There would be firecrackers and alcohol and beautiful men weeping. “Incredibly tasteful.”

  Jacob placed his half-full mug on the counter. His dark lashes hid his eyes. “I was going to call or something at some point. See how you were doing. But it’s been so crazy with Kati’s senior year and the boys launching their new business…”

  Startled, her mouth dropped open. Jacob had considered checking in on her? As if she were some normal person who might be affected by her mother’s death and not the sociopath he probably considered her to be? “Oh. No. I mean, that’s fine. I wouldn’t have expected that from you.”

  His lips twisted. “I figured. But, you know, I should have, since…”
>
  “Since you’re such a good brother?” she retorted, before she could catch herself. Wincing, she raised her hand to stave off the storm cloud gathering on his face. His beautiful, beautiful face. “Sorry. Sorry.” She was sorry. It had been instinct to counteract the unexpected kindness of his intention to check in on her with a verbal shove.

  “What brings you here?”

  There. He was back to being Mr. Stiff. Happy?

  No.

  But this was better. It had gotten a little too touchy-feely there, and with all this talk about her mother…well, she needed a wall between them. It protected all her softest parts.

  Suddenly weary, she massaged the back of her neck. “This is, actually, about my mother. And a gift she may have given you.”

  “The bequest?”

  Akira had been expecting her mother to leave the Campbell family a sizable sum, but her will had only bequeathed a hundred thousand dollars to be split between the four siblings. Mei Mori hadn’t been born rich, but at eighteen she’d had the distinct misfortune to stumble directly into the path of Hiro Mori, who, smitten, had not signed a prenup. Mei could have taken the sizable fortune she received in the divorce settlement and sat on it, but the woman had been a crafty investor and had more than doubled it over her lifetime. In light of the rest of her estate, a hundred grand was a drop in the bucket.

  Then again, Akira bet Mei knew Jacob would balk at a huge sum of money. Her mother had once proudly told her Jacob was determined to make it on his own, though she had offered to help them more than once.

  This information had been imparted, of course, to imply Akira had done nothing but take advantage of the silver spoon she’d been born with.

  “No, not the bequest.” Most of her mother’s estate had gone to charity, with the remainder to Akira.

  Akira had wanted only one thing. “We finished cataloging her possessions this week, and there’s one item missing. It was last seen seven months before her death. Six months before her death, she started refusing to see everyone except her household staff and a few select friends.” She paused for a beat. “You and your siblings were part of that small group.”

  It took a few seconds for realization to dawn. He straightened, and suddenly the kitchen felt even tinier. “Are you asking if I took something from a dying woman?”

  “No, of course not.” Please, Jacob would never steal. The man didn’t know how to deviate from the straight-and-narrow path. He was physically incapable of sin.

  What a miserable existence.

  “I was there in the capacity of friendship,” he said coldly. “She was lonely at the end. Not to manipulate her into…what, handing over her jewels?”

  Lonely because her own daughter didn’t visit her. No, she refused to feel guilty about that. Her presence would have only made Mei more miserable. “I’m not implying there was a single element of coercion.” She raised her hands. “Look. I didn’t come here to fight or ogle your ass—”

  Jacob’s head snapped back. “Ogle my…”

  “Oh, shut up,” she retorted, out of patience. “You know very well it’s a first-class ass. What do you do, do squats all day? Never mind, don’t answer.”

  “Trust me,” he said grimly, “I wasn’t planning to.”

  “I came because the item looks like nothing more than a wood box. Well crafted, about a foot square. A design on the sides. No one would steal it, and it’s probably the only gift she could give you that you would take because it doesn’t look expensive.”

  “You think she gave me a box?”

  Akira sighed. Her feet hurt. Her head ached. She was sleep deprived and tired, and his wide, steady shoulders were right there.

  It took every ounce of energy for her to continue speaking. She was unable to think anymore, perilously close to dropping her shields. “It was my grandmother’s. There is no price I wouldn’t pay to get it back.” There. She’d handed him every single ounce of bargaining power.

  Jacob had stilled, and he watched her far too carefully for her peace of mind. His tone was quiet when he spoke. “Mei didn’t give me anything.”

  “What about your siblings?”

  “I would know. They would tell me. We’re close.”

  Akira flinched from the last two words, though she knew he didn’t intend it as a dig about her lack of closeness with her own family.

  She had developed a sense to recognize when people were lying to her, a skill that served her well when negotiating with men who assumed she was an empty-headed doll. Truth. It rang in every syllable of those sentences.

  Defeat tasted like ashes in her mouth.

  The rage she had managed to control for too many years rose inside of her. Her damned mother. Holding Hana’s box over her head like a carrot since her grandmother had died unexpectedly. Behave, and I’ll give you the box. Behave, and I’ll give you your legacy.

  You should have behaved.

  Well, she hadn’t. And the hope she’d had, that finally, finally she could recover it, was dashed, because there was no place left to look.

  It was gone.

  If she opened her mouth, she would cry or wail, and Akira Mori did not break down. Not ever.

  She inclined her head and carefully placed her half-full coffee mug on the counter. She managed to make it to the exit, barely registering Jacob’s presence behind her until a heavy palm shut the door she had opened a crack. “Akira. Are you okay?”

  He was so big and warm behind her. All she had to do was lean back, and she could absorb his heat into her. She craved it.

  That’s why you can’t have it. It was dangerous to lust after someone so fruitlessly. Hadn’t she learned all about wanting the unattainable with her family? Constant rejection took its toll. It chipped away at your soul, made you doubt yourself. It hurt. “Yes, I’m fine.”

  He had to lean down to catch her breathy answer. His beard scraped her temple. “You don’t look well. I don’t know if you should drive.”

  She suppressed a shudder. Brother Jacob. So good. So honorable to everyone, even a woman he found repugnant.

  She could snap her fingers and have anything she wanted in the world. But she couldn’t have her legacy. She couldn’t have her mother, eager to forgive her and love her. And she couldn’t have him.

  Funny how they were the things she wanted the most.

  Dangerous. This was far too dangerous.

  So get rid of him.

  That she was adept at. And if she stole a little something for herself in the process, he would never know.

  She placed her hand on the arm he had extended in front of her, trapping her in the cabin with him. Coarse dark hair sprinkled his forearm, scraping her knuckles, which were raw from the tree bark earlier. “So eager to keep me here?”

  “Don’t twist my words.”

  Pure, perfect Jacob. “I wouldn’t mind staying.” Her fingers smoothed over the curve of his massive biceps. She tended to gravitate toward slender, elegantly lean men. In comparison, Jacob was a brute who could snap her in two. “Especially if you promise to entertain me.”

  He had stiffened behind her. “Akira—”

  The warning in his voice only made her bolder, desperate to gain control. “We could go back outside, and you can take off your shirt. I liked watching you chop wood.” She leaned back until she was cradled against his chest. His thick thighs surrounded hers.

  She couldn’t quell the shudder that went through her. In all the long years they had been acquaintances, this was the most physical contact they had ever shared. Immediately, she knew she had made a terrible miscalculation.

  Because this was delicious.

  She wanted to stay like this forever. But he would shove her away. Any second now. So she would enjoy it for the few short moments she was going to get.

  Jacob exhaled, long and low, shifting behind her so his cock nestled directly against her ass, sending a thrill up her spine. Was it possible Jacob was semihard for her? Unable to help herself, she moved her hips,
rocking back against that tantalizingly thick bulge.

  He started to curse but cut himself off. She wanted him to curse. She wanted him to be bad, as bad as her. She wanted to corrupt him, stain his pure soul, stamp the imprint of her nastiness on him.

  “Yeah,” she murmured. “Let’s go outside. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? I could show you all the things I was thinking about doing to you when I was watching you. All the ways I would touch and lick every part of you.” Akira squeezed his biceps. Her other hand went behind her and grasped his hip, which gave an imperceptible jerk, grinding his semihard cock into her ass. “You like that?” She slid her hand down his big thigh. “I could start at the top and work my way down. Or maybe…maybe you’d prefer I started at the bottom.”

  His chest expanded behind her, and she gave a grim smile of victory, stroking his thigh down and then up again. Letting him imagine how it would feel if it were his cock. “I think you would. Maybe I should get on my knees so I can be thorough.”

  They stood in silence for a charged minute, during which Akira thought maybe…maybe…

  “Stop it.” His voice was harsh, furious. Though she had been prepared for it, the rejection sliced through her, leaving a bloody wound. Jacob’s hand fell away from the door. There was a tug on her scalp as he jerked away, her hair caught in the bristle of his beard.

  Her lips twisted, and she spoke through the haze of lust, fatigue and anger clouding her brain as she opened the door. “See you around, Brother Jacob.”

  Chapter Three

  There were seven hundred and forty-eight atrocious pink roses on the wallpaper spanning Jacob’s home office.

  He cocked his head and contemplated the north wall. The rest of his family’s home had been slowly renovated during the five years they had lived here, but since he was the only one who used this attic room, it had been shoved to the back burner.

  Maybe this weekend he could tackle it. He mentally reviewed his calendar and scratched that thought. Kati had a soccer game on Saturday, which would monopolize most of his day. Since he had fallen behind in his word-count goals, he would have to spend Sunday confronting the blinking cursor on his half-finished manuscript. He was already dreading it.