Whatever You Like (15 page)

“So I'm not the first client you've ever slept with,” he said flatly.

Her stomach twisted sickeningly. “No,” she whispered.

She braced herself for an angry barrage of insults and accusations. But Roderick grew silent, and somehow that was far more devastating than anything he could have said to her. She remembered Zandra's warning about how quickly he got turned off when a woman fell short of his expectations, and it made her feel worse. Like she'd let him down.

When they reached her apartment building, Roderick parked and walked her to her front door. Lena felt as though she should say something,
anything,
to defend herself. She should tell him that what they'd shared meant more to her than anything she and Glenn had done. Because it was true.

But she couldn't get the words past her constricted throat. And when Roderick leaned down and brushed a kiss across her forehead, she couldn't shake the sense that something precious was slipping away from her.

“Good night, Lena,” he murmured.

She tried to read his expression, but it was indecipherable. “Good night,” she said softly.

He turned and walked away without a backward glance, leaving Lena to wonder whether she'd seen him for the last time.

T
o keep her mind occupied the next day, Lena threw herself into a whirlwind of activity. After popping two aspirin to combat menstrual cramps—courtesy of an overnight visit by Mother Nature—she proceeded to clean and vacuum her apartment from top to bottom. Next she baked a lemon pound cake for her grandfather and delivered it to him. After leaving the retirement home, she ran errands she'd been putting off for weeks. And at the end of the evening, she pulled out her laptop and caught up on work.

The day came and went without a word from Roderick.

Lena told herself that any concern she felt was on the college's behalf. If Roderick decided to renege on his deal with her, the college wouldn't receive the grant money, which was the most important thing at stake here. So it was only natural that his prolonged
silence would make her nervous. She was worried for her employer's sake, that's all.

Or so she told herself.

The next day at the office, she couldn't concentrate on work. She tried to get started on a new grant proposal, but her mind kept wandering. She was staring off into space when a knock sounded on her door.

Startled, she glanced up to find her boss standing in her doorway. “E-Ethan,” she stammered, embarrassed because he'd caught her daydreaming when she was supposed to be working. “What can I do for you?”

“I just came by to see how you were doing.” Gentle, concerned blue eyes searched her face. “Is everything okay, Lena? You've seemed distracted all morning.”

“I'm fine.” When Ethan looked unconvinced, she added honestly, “I just have a lot on my mind.”

“Your grandfather,” Ethan surmised with a sympathetic nod.

“Mmm.” Lena felt a pang of guilt for using her grandfather as a crutch.

“I know how rough last week was for you.” Ethan paused. “If you need to take some time off, just let me know. It's not as if you haven't accrued plenty of vacation days.”

Lena nodded slowly. “Thanks, Ethan. I'll keep that in mind.”

“Good.” He propped a shoulder against the door. “How are those revisions coming along for the performing arts grant?”

“Great,” Lena said brightly, inwardly cringing at the bald-faced lie. “I expect to have it resubmitted by the end of the day.”

“Wonderful.” Ethan beamed with approval. “I've been champing at the bit to tell Dr. Dukes about
Roderick Brand's visit and his generous offer to approve an additional five hundred thousand dollars. I still can't believe our good fortune.”

“Neither can I,” Lena murmured, grateful that Ethan hadn't spilled the beans to the college's president.

“It hasn't been easy to keep such great news to myself,” he admitted with a grin. “Every time I've seen Dr. Dukes around campus or had a meeting with her, I've been tempted to tell her. I know how thrilled she's going to be, and I don't have to tell you how much publicity we're going to receive as a result of this major grant award. But I want to wait until everything's finalized. And I have every confidence that you'll get the deal done.” He laughed, winking at her. “No pressure.”

Lena forced a weak laugh. “No pressure.”

After Ethan left her office, she groaned softly and dropped her head onto her desk. If Roderick decided not to keep his end of the bargain, she was royally screwed. And she'd also be royally pissed.

Her cell phone rang, startling her.

She jerked upright, then dove for the bottom desk drawer to retrieve the phone from her handbag. When she saw Roderick's private number on the caller ID, her heart slammed into her rib cage. She paused to take a deep, calming breath, then answered with a cool, “Hello?”

“Lena. This is Roderick.”

Her stomach knotted. She rose unsteadily from her chair, crossed the room and closed the door before she spoke again. “Roderick. How are you?”

“I've been better.” His voice was heavy. With exhaustion? Or with residual anger? “Listen. Something's come up, and I won't be able to take you to the show tonight.”

Hurt flared in Lena's chest. “If this is about Saturday night—”

“It's not,” Roderick said brusquely. “I have to leave for Japan earlier than I'd planned. In fact, I'm flying out this afternoon.”

“Oh.” Disappointment swept through her. “How long do you expect to be gone?”

“I don't know. Two weeks, at the minimum. Longer, if necessary.”

“I see.” She leaned back against the door and closed her eyes against an odd stinging sensation. “Well, have a good trip. I'm sure you have important business matters to attend to.”

“I do,” he muttered grimly.

Tell him,
Lena's conscience urged.
Tell him that Glenn meant nothing to you. Set the record straight…before it's too late.

She inhaled a deep breath. “Roderick, there's something I—”

“Hold on.” She heard a woman's voice followed by dead air, as if Roderick had pressed the mute button.

Lena waited tensely, telling herself that the female voice she'd heard belonged to Roderick's secretary—not a new lover.

After a full two minutes, he came back on the line sounding more aggravated than before. “Sorry about that. Look, something else has come up, so I have to run.”

“Okay. I understand. Have a safe trip.”

“Thanks.”

Lena hesitated, then blurted, “Will you call me when—”

But Roderick had already hung up, severing the connection between them. Perhaps for good this time.

 

Lena returned to her apartment that evening with a heavy heart.

After changing into an old UCLA sweatshirt and black leggings, she trudged back to the living room, turned on the television and plopped down on the sofa to eat the takeout meal she'd picked up on the way home. But she found herself poking disinterestedly at the lasagna and salad. She had no appetite, because her thoughts were consumed with Roderick and the brief conversation they'd had that morning. It bothered her that he'd be out of the country for two weeks—maybe even longer—and things were still unresolved between them.

Sighing heavily, she shoved aside her mostly untouched meal, grabbed the remote control and leaned back against the sofa cushions. As she began channel surfing, her cell phone rang. She retrieved it from the coffee table and checked caller ID.

Her heart skipped several precious beats.

It was Roderick.

“Hello?” she answered, not caring how eager she sounded.

“Hey,” Roderick said softly.

“Hi.” She willed her pulse to stabilize. “I thought you were leaving for Japan today.”

“I did,” he confirmed. “I'm calling from the jet.”

“Oh.” She'd foolishly hoped that he was still in Chicago, maybe even on his way over to her apartment.
Hope springs eternal.

“There's something I wanted to ask you earlier, before my secretary interrupted our call.”

Lena moistened her dry lips. “What's that?”

“I want you to join me in Japan.”

“What?”

“You heard me. I want you to fly out to Japan to be with me.”

Her heart went into overdrive. “I—I can't,” she whispered. But she was tempted.
Oh, how she was tempted.

“You don't have to leave tomorrow,” Roderick said. “I realize it's short notice, and you'd need time to pack and put in your leave request at work. But if you could be ready by Wednesday morning, I'd make all the arrangements with my pilot.”

Lena blew out a shaky breath and dragged a trembling hand through her hair, mussing it. “I don't know, Roderick. This…this is a lot to consider. I mean, you're asking me to go out of the country with you.”

“I know,” he said quietly.

“And what am I supposed to do with myself while you're tending to business? And don't you dare say go shopping,” she warned.

He laughed softly. “You can do anything you want, Lena. Pamper yourself at the spa, go sightseeing, visit museums and palaces, enjoy a show at the Kabuki theater. You speak Japanese. Have you ever been to the country?”

She sighed. “No. I've always wanted to visit, though.”

“Well, here's your chance. And you wouldn't be on your own the entire week,” Roderick assured her. “Believe me, I wouldn't ask you to join me if I intended to neglect you.”

Lena groaned, even as she felt her resistance weakening. “I couldn't stay more than a week.”

“I'll take whatever I can get.” There was a smile in his voice. He could sense victory.

“My grandfather—”

“Is in very good hands at the retirement home, and you know it.”

She sighed. He was right, of course. Her grandfather was more than well cared for at Lakeview Manor. And she'd only be gone for a week anyway.

I can't believe I'm actually considering this,
Lena thought as she rose from the sofa, walked over to the windows and gazed out at the night skyline. The idea of spending a week alone with Roderick—anywhere—was both exhilarating and terrifying. She had no doubt that they'd have a wonderful time together. They always did. And therein lay the problem. This arrangement between them was only temporary. In two weeks Roderick would cut the college a nice check, and he and Lena would go their separate ways. She couldn't lose sight of that fact, or she'd be in a world of trouble.

If she wasn't already.

“Lena.” Roderick's low, husky voice tempted her beyond all reason. “Please say you'll join me.”

She closed her eyes, drew a deep breath and took the plunge. “I'll be there.”

A
fter a twelve-hour flight aboard Roderick's plush private jet, Lena arrived in Tokyo around seven-thirty on Wednesday evening. Since Roderick had a late business meeting, he'd arranged for a chauffeured car to take her to the hotel where he was staying.

Though fatigued from her long flight, Lena felt a buzz of excitement as she stared out the window at the passing scenery. Tokyo was a sprawling, dazzling kaleidoscope of neon lights, giant plasma screens, noisy markets and futuristic skyscrapers that rose above bustling streets. It was as vibrant, crowded and intoxicating as Lena had always imagined, an assault on the senses that left her a little dizzy.

After wending through bumper-to-bumper traffic, the car arrived at The Peninsula Tokyo, a luxury hotel located in the prestigious financial district of Marunouchi, which was opposite the Imperial Palace
and minutes from the renowned Ginza shopping mecca.

Lena boarded an elevator that whisked her all the way up to the Peninsula Suite, the hotel's crème de la crème of suites. It boasted an opulent décor, an enormous dining room, a grand piano and breathtaking views of Tokyo and the Imperial Palace Gardens.

On the console table, a bottle of wine sat next to a crystal vase filled with a lovely assortment of chrysanthemums. Nestled among the fragrant flowers was a small card. Lena picked it up and read the note dictated in Roderick's bold, masculine handwriting:
Welcome to Tokyo. Sorry I couldn't be there to greet you, but I'm so glad you came. Relax, have a glass of wine, enjoy the view. And know that I'm hurrying back to you.

Lena shivered, anticipation fluttering in her belly.

“Will there be anything else, ma'am?” the concierge asked her in halting English.

Lena glanced up and smiled. “No, thank you.
Doumo arigatou gozaimasu.
”

The man beamed with pleasure, then bowed gracefully and departed.

Feeling as if she were in some sort of utopian dream, Lena wandered from room to room, marveling at ultramodern features that included nail polish dryers and fingertip bedside panels that allowed guests to control everything from temperature settings to levels of mood lighting.

When she'd finished exploring the suite, she got undressed and stepped into the marble bathroom, which boasted a built-in plasma television and a rain shower that turned into a spa at the touch of a button. She stood beneath the hot spray of water, head tilted back, eyes
closed as she luxuriated in the heat and steam that enveloped her.

She felt him before she saw him—big, strong hands sliding up her thighs and over her breasts, drawing her nipples into tight buds.

She opened her eyes to meet Roderick's dark, glittering gaze. And then she smiled, as if she encountered naked, fully aroused men in her shower every day. “Hi.”

His lips curved, slow and sexy. “Hi, yourself.”

He slanted his mouth over hers, sending electricity sizzling through her veins. Her breasts swelled, her sex pulsed and throbbed. The man could bring her to orgasm with just one kiss.

“I was hoping to find you in the shower when I got back,” he murmured, his tongue dipping into her mouth, stroking hers.

“Mmm, I bet you were.” Drawing away after several pleasurable moments, she smiled into his eyes. “Could you hand me the shampoo? I forgot to bring it inside with me.”

As he turned and opened the shower door to retrieve the bottle, she openly admired the way his broad, muscular back tapered down to the taut, round butt she loved to grip during sex. He turned to pass her the shampoo bottle, chuckling softly when he caught her ogling him. She grinned unabashedly.

She poured shampoo into her hands and massaged the creamy herbal concoction into her hair. With her arms raised above her head, her breasts were thrust forward. Taking this as an invitation to feast, Roderick pressed her nipples together and drew them into his hot, hungry mouth. Choking back a moan, Lena laughingly told him to do something productive with himself before she wound up getting shampoo in her eyes.

Smiling wickedly, he lathered up the loofah and gently began bathing her. Warmth spread through her limbs as his hands glided over her skin, leaving soap bubbles in their wake. She rinsed out her hair, then turned and reached for the bar of soap. They washed each other in lazy silence, their fingers brushing, their eyes meeting as hot water rained over their faces.

When they were finished, Roderick leaned down and kissed her. It was slow and sweet and slippery. She opened her mouth and took his tongue deep. He reached down and slid one, then two fingers inside her. She moaned softly, pushing her hips forward. His thumb swirled tenderly around her clit while he stroked her sensitive inner flesh. She came within seconds, shuddering and crying out as her wetness ran down her legs.

Still kissing her, Roderick palmed her butt, lifted her off the floor and pinned her against the marble wall. Her arms went around his neck, her legs around his waist. He slid inside her. Her pussy felt swollen as it stretched around his thick erection, taking him all the way into her body. He began thrusting, water pooling between their bodies in a steamy, sensual river.

She moaned as he lowered his mouth to her throat, nibbling and suckling her. As his hips ground slowly against hers, she reached behind him and squeezed his butt, which caused him to shudder and thrust faster, pumping into her until they both came with rapturous shouts.

Moments later they emerged from the shower and dried each other off, stealing kisses in between. Lips curving in a coquettish smile, Lena dropped her towel to the floor and sashayed naked from the bathroom.

She squealed with laughter as Roderick caught her
around the waist and scooped her into his arms. He reached the king-size bed in three powerful strides and set her down on her hands and knees. When he entered her from behind, her laughter dissolved into a moan.

 

Afterward, they shared a glass of wine and an exotic platter of sushi sent up from one of the hotel's five-star restaurants. Wrapped in a beautiful silk kimono Roderick had given her, Lena sat on his lap and fed him with a pair of chopsticks. Candles glowed invitingly on the living room table, and a wall of windows treated them to a panoramic view of the glittering night skyline. It was perfectly enchanting, perfectly romantic.

“Mmm,” Roderick murmured as Lena slid another piece of sushi into his mouth. “That's good.”

“Best I've ever had,” she agreed, helping herself to the next bite. After the sumptuous dinner she'd been served aboard Roderick's private jet, she hadn't expected to find herself hungry again that night. But, as usual, they'd worked up an appetite.

“Ready for more?”

Roderick nodded, and she fed him another piece of sushi. As he chewed and swallowed, she arched an amused brow at him. “I didn't know if you would be happy with the sushi I ordered.”

He grinned. “I trust you, baby. You make everything taste better.”

She snorted out a laugh. “Yeah, right. You and your lines.”

“No, it's true. For example, I've never been a huge fan of fudge, but after that night…” He trailed off meaningfully, and Lena flushed from head to toe. Which, of course, made him laugh.

“Damn, I love making you blush,” he told her.

“So I've noticed,” she muttered, fighting the tug of a grin. “Anyway, it's good for you to develop a taste for sushi. Now that you've taken over a Japanese company, it probably wouldn't hurt you to learn how to speak the language either.”

“Actually, I've been thinking the same thing,” Roderick said, smiling at her. “Think you could teach me?”

“Oh, I don't think so,” Lena demurred, absently toying with the last piece of sushi.

“Why not?”

“Japanese is a complicated language. It can take a while to learn it.”

“So…what's the problem?”

She glanced up and met his gaze. It was on the tip of her tongue to remind him that she'd be out of his life in less than two weeks. But her throat had grown strangely tight, and she couldn't bring herself to vocalize the words.

Averting her gaze, she plucked their wineglass off the side table and took a long, fortifying sip. When Roderick pointedly licked his lips, she hesitated, then lowered the glass to his mouth to let him drink. He held her gaze, his eyes silently communicating a message she was afraid to interpret. Afraid to receive.

Her hand trembled as she pulled the glass away and set it back on the table.

“Lena—”

“This hotel is amazing,” she said brightly, throwing an appreciative glance around the suite. “The driver who brought me from the airport said it's only three years old. No wonder everything's so sparkly and new. Have you stayed here every time you've traveled to Tokyo?”

“Yes,” Roderick replied, giving her an amused look that told her he wasn't fooled by her evasion tactics.

Undeterred, she continued cheerfully, “I guess if you have to live out of a suitcase, you couldn't find a nicer home away from home than The Peninsula.”

“Actually, I'm looking for a place of my own.”

“Oh, that's right. Zandra mentioned something about that on Saturday. Find any promising leads yet?”

“Not yet. My real estate agent has some properties he'd like to show me while I'm here.” Roderick hesitated. “Maybe you could tag along. I wouldn't mind having a woman's input.”

Lena swallowed, then forced a nonchalant shrug. “Sure. I'll go.” As if there were nothing remotely intimate or “couple-ish” about going house hunting with him. “Tomorrow?”

He shook his head. “I was thinking Friday. I don't want to drag you all over Tokyo a day after you just got here. You should relax tomorrow, sleep in late, get a massage downstairs at the spa. It's supposed to be really nice. World-class.”

“Mmm, sounds good. I just had a massage, though. With Zandra.”

“So get another one. There's no such thing as too much pampering, is there?”

“Definitely not.”

He smiled. “In the evening we can hit the Kabuki theater.”

Lena grinned. “Dinner and a show?”

“A promise is a promise.”

“Woo-hoo!” She clapped, nearly dislodging the plate on her lap. As Roderick caught and righted it, she asked him, “Want the last piece of sushi?”

“Naw,” he drawled, “you can have it.”

When she picked it up and popped it into her mouth, he scowled. “Well, damn. If I'd known you were going to use your fingers, I would've taken it.”

She laughed. “I'm sorry. Did you have a problem being fed with chopsticks?”

“Not at all.” His eyes glinted. “But use your fingers next time. I like tasting you.”

Need tightened low in her belly. Slowly she licked the spices from her fingers, watching his gaze darken, feeling his penis twitch beneath her thighs.

“Don't start something you can't finish, woman,” he warned softly.

She chuckled, delighted by how easily she could arouse him. Setting aside the empty plate, she asked, “So how'd your day go? Have you taken care of those troublemakers at the office?”

Roderick had told her about two of Kawamoto's top-level executives who'd been resistant to the acquisition. Afraid of getting squeezed out of their jobs, and resentful that their new employer was a brash young American—a
black
American, at that—they'd refused to cooperate with Roderick's transition team, which had forced him to return earlier than planned to personally resolve the matter.

Lena smiled at him. “Were you able to squelch the mutiny?”

“Of course,” Roderick drawled, making an exaggerated show of cracking his knuckles. “You know I had to show 'em who's boss.”

“Uh-oh,” Lena intoned with mock dread. “Don't tell me you went all Chicago-gangster on them.”

His grin was crooked. “What can I say? You can take the boy outta the South Side…”

She burst out laughing. “I knew it!”

“Knew what?”

Grinning and shaking her head, she explained, “One of the first impressions I had of you was that you'd be downright formidable if you were ever crossed. You've got a ruthless streak, Mr. Brand.”

He shrugged. “Guess it comes with the territory. You need killer instincts to survive in the cutthroat world of business, especially when the odds are stacked against you.”

Lena nodded understandingly. No one could have predicted the success story that Roderick's life would become. One of six children born to working-class parents, and raised in one of the toughest neighborhoods on Chicago's South Side, he'd defied the odds by excelling in school and going on to attend a prestigious university. Now, at the age of thirty-five, he headed one of the country's largest energy conglomerates, and he showed no signs of slowing down.

Lena smiled softly. “Your parents must be so proud of you.”

“They are,” Roderick agreed with a quiet, reflective smile. “But they've always set the bar high for me and my siblings, so they expect nothing but the best from us.”

“Good parents,” Lena murmured.

“Most definitely.”

She grinned playfully. “If your life's story is ever made into a movie, Idris Elba
has
to play the lead role.”

“Idris? Nah.”

“Why not?”

“We look nothing alike.”

Incredulous, Lena sputtered, “Are you kidding me? Have you
looked
in a mirror lately? You could be his
younger—” Seeing the amused gleam in Roderick's eyes, she broke off and laughed. “I knew you couldn't be serious. You probably hear all the time how much you resemble Idris.”

He chuckled. “I hear it often enough.”

“It's a compliment, you know.”

“I know. And I appreciate it.” He grinned, and Lena decided not to inflate his ego by telling him that he was even finer than Idris.