Her Singapore Fling (5 page)

‘There is that,' said Jianne and turned to Jake, her eyes bright. ‘I'll pay for them, of course, and naturally I'll replace all breakages—with plastic ones if you insist—but these bowls are really starting to speak to me.'

‘Are they saying that if you buy them you'll be supporting the Japanese economy?' asked Jake.

‘No. It's all quiet on that front.'

‘Is this a female thing?'

‘No,' she said airily. ‘It's a Chinese thing. Grudge holding can be very therapeutic but it should
never
interfere with commerce.'

‘Ri-i-ght,' he said dryly. ‘Economic sanctions not really your thing, then?'

‘Government-controlled commerce has a long and not altogether illustrious history in China. Makes us wary.' A faint smile crossed her lips. ‘You want to talk global economic rationalism with me, Jacob Bennett?'

‘Maybe later.' For some reason he was getting hard again. ‘I came here for bowls and to make the memory of our kiss go away. I'm all for focusing on that at the moment.'

‘Oh,' she said as her gaze rested briefly on his lips. ‘Is it working?'

‘Well, it
was
.'

‘About the serving bowls,' said the salesman.

‘We'll take them,' said Jake. ‘Could you wrap them to go on the back of a motorbike?'

‘But, yes. Bubble wrap's a wonderful thing,' said the salesman. ‘Invented by the Americans, of course. Apparently they were trying to make wallpaper.'

‘Really?' said Jianne.

‘Oh, yes. Is there anything else I can interest you in? German cooking knives? Italian glassware? Irish linen? It's all here.'

‘We're all shopped out,' said Jake.

‘Are we?' said Jianne. ‘I've never shopped for kitchen items before. Who knew it could be so therapeutic?'

‘Put it this way. Think of the size of the kitchen you're buying things for, and
stop
,' said Jake.

‘You're right,' she said on a sigh. ‘You're absolutely right.' Jianne smiled winningly at the salesman. ‘Is there a shop that sells bedroom furniture nearby? He has a
very
big bedroom.'

‘Now you're hallucinating,' said Jake. ‘We are
not
going shopping for bedroom accessories.'

‘Coward,' she murmured. ‘I'll be over by the pizza makers. They seem very manly and tough. Perfect for dojo living, in fact.'

‘Enough with the purchases,' said Jake. ‘Who knew that kissing you would be preferable to shopping with you?'

‘Oh, I think most men could have called that one,' murmured the salesman. ‘I'll wrap these over at the counter, shall I?'

‘Wrap fast,' muttered Jake.

‘Always do.'

 

Jake's bike lived in the storeroom just inside the double doored front entrance to the dojo. For ease of parking and practicality you couldn't go past it.

Jianne had a grin on her face and hopefully intact Noritake dinner bowls in the pack on her back as she stepped from the bike and pulled off her helmet. ‘I'm quite liking dojo living,' she said. ‘It's very streamlined. What
is
that smell?'

‘Sweat,' said Jake.

Jianne's smile dimmed. Jake hid his. ‘Po's around somewhere if you need a hand with anything. I have to referee a bout between two of my black belts in half an hour's time. It's an open house inter-dojo competition, which means we usually pull a few spectators. Should Zhi Fu come in while I'm refereeing he'll have access to you and I won't be able to prevent it. What I can do is arrange a minder for you. Someone I trust.'

‘Do you really think that's necessary?'

‘I don't know.' Fighting ghosts was never easy. ‘Did you hear from him today?'

‘No. Nothing.'

‘Anything unusual happen at work?'

‘No. Maybe he doesn't know where I am.'

‘He will eventually, Jianne. And if he's as obsessed as Madeline says he is, and as dangerous as your uncle thinks he is, chances are he already does.'

‘Maybe.' And maybe Jianne just didn't want to admit it yet. ‘I'd like to watch the karate,' she said defiantly. ‘What say you point out the people you trust and if I need them I'll make their acquaintance?'

Jake did exactly that on their way through to the kitchen and then took himself off, presumably to get changed out of his street clothes and into more formal dojo wear. Or maybe he simply preferred his own company to hers. Jianne unpacked the bowls, smirking somewhat over the bubble wrap and smiling even more as she set the beautiful bowls on the ancient laminated countertop. Maybe they
would
break in this rough and ready environment. And maybe they were tougher than they looked.

The evening progressed. A motley crowd gathered. Vicious fighting ensued and Jacob enforced the rules. Apparently there was a winner. Zhi Fu did not attend.

Later Jianne, Po and Jacob ate Chinese takeaway out of Noritake bone china bowls. Jacob washed up afterwards and Po cleared the table before silently slipping away. When the boy returned a minute or so later he earnestly presented her with half a dozen bars of pre-loved lavender soap.

Jianne thanked him gravely. She thought she heard a groan, over by the sink. She
definitely
heard the clatter of cutlery against Japan's finest crockery.

But the bowls did not break.

J
IANNE'S
second night in Jacob's bed was no different from her first. Light filled, largely sleepless, and heavy on the erotic fantasies. Fortunately, she had a plan. It began with a blanket, a broomstick and Jacob's reading chair. The chair went beneath the windows that fed light directly onto the bed. Jianne stood on the chair, the blanket hooked over the broom. Up went the broomstick to push the blanket between the window panes. The closing of the slatted window panes kept it there. Getting the window panes to close on the blanket but not the broom was the trickiest part of the process but, frankly, she had all night.

The second part of her plan involved
A Comprehensive History of the Civilised World
—a hefty hardback tome borrowed from her uncle's research library. If the contents didn't put her to sleep she could always belt herself over the head with it.

The third part of her plan was only to be put into motion if all else failed. It involved creeping downstairs in a teeny-tiny singlet and fitted cotton boxers and appropriating a suitably large glass of Scotch from the bottle on the shelf above the kitchen sink.

She toyed with the idea of adding a large belted black raincoat to her stealth wear in order to cover her near nakedness but the raincoat was a little on the rustle-y side and would doubtless wake the dead.

No, what she really needed to do was buy a bottle of Scotch in her lunch break tomorrow and bring it upstairs when she came in from work, thus avoiding night-time trips to the kitchen altogether.

At ten-thirty a quiet knock sounded on her bedroom door and Jianne called out a wary ‘who is it?' as she put her raincoat to use after all.

‘Po,' said a youthful voice. ‘I have some tea for you.'

She opened the door. So he did. Tea in a coffee mug that sat on a dinner plate. A strip of packaged sugar and a spoon completed the tableau.

‘It's herbal,' said Po. ‘We thought it might help you get to sleep, if you weren't already.'

‘Oh. How very thoughtful.'

Po eyed her quizzically. ‘Are you going out?'

‘No, I'm for bed and for sleep.' Please let there be sleep tonight. ‘Right after I drink my tea.'

Po handed the tea over, and then proceeded to eyeball the roof.

Jianne followed his gaze. Nothing up there but iron struts and warehouse roof. ‘What are you looking for?' she asked finally. There were no rats—she'd have seen them last night. Probably not dark enough in here for them either.

‘Water.'

‘Ah.' She nodded wisely. ‘I see. Well, thanks for the tea.'

‘The sensei said to tell you there's a kickboxing class at six in the morning and that it's probably going to wake you but it finishes at seven. The one after that doesn't start until nine.'

‘Tell the sensei that I appreciate the warning.'

‘He wants to know if you need a lift to work between seven thirty and eight thirty.'

‘Tell him I'll take a taxi.'

‘Is there anything else you want me to tell him?' asked Po.

Jianne smiled angelically. ‘Tell him his bed's very comfortable. Tell him goodnight and sweet dreams.' Because damn sure she'd be having some.

 

But instead, there was a great deal of tossing and turning and cursing of neon lights. There was fantasy, and imagination, and a deepening need for sexual satisfaction and for that she cursed Jacob.

She'd forgotten over the years just how deeply sexual their relationship had been. She'd failed to remember how thoroughly Jacob's nearness affected her, how all he had to do was look at her for her to want him. He'd looked at her plenty today. He'd touched her with his eyes and with his mouth and now she wanted more because it hadn't been enough.

Not nearly enough.

Would it be wrong to pleasure herself in Jacob's bed while thinking of him? Cursing him? Would she be able to look him in the eye tomorrow and not have him instantly know what she'd done?

Did she even
care
if he guessed what she'd been doing in his bed?

Come three a.m. and still wide awake, Jianne finally bowed to her body's demands.

Apparently she did not.

 

Jianne took Jacob's cue the following morning and came downstairs between karate classes, dressed for work in a modest skirt and lightweight top. Jacob nodded pleasantly enough as she entered the kitchen. He appreciated her not coming downstairs until she was fully dressed and ready to go each morning. It spoke of a consideration for his work and of not wanting to disrupt it and that was exactly what he wanted from her. Exactly how she
should
approach dojo living.

Only a madman would look at her all buttoned up for the day and curse her for not coming down those stairs a little less well put together. Only a man bent on self-torture would wish that she'd turn up for breakfast looking sleepy eyed and sated. Well pleased with whatever had transpired through the night.

He remembered that look about her. She'd worn it a lot in the early days of their marriage. The latter days too. Jianne might have been a fragile dynasty princess in so many of her ways but she'd also been the most sensual and uninhibited lover Jacob had ever known. A woman so attuned to his needs and darkest desires that no one else had ever come close to satisfying him the way she had.

Jacob watched through narrowed eyes as Jianne walked over to the counter and switched on the kettle. She reached up to the kitchen shelf for a sturdy coffee mug. He didn't have any delicate china teacups.

Yet.

She turned and smiled at him politely, every inch the poised and perfect house guest. No trouble, no trouble at all. Until something flickered in her eyes, something stolen and sensual and altogether familiar. If Jacob wasn't mistaken, here stood a woman who'd sought sexual satisfaction in the dark of the night. And found it.

What the
hell
had she been doing in his bed?

‘Tea?' she asked politely, and when he sat back in his chair and glared at her she raised a delicate brow and smiled a sinner's smile before turning her back on him and reaching for the tea tin.

Jacob's opportunity for retaliation came fast on the heels of his rising ire and his rising libido. Jianne couldn't quite reach the tin that sat on the highest of the two kitchen shelves, not without climbing on the kitchen bench, which she was, it seemed, prepared to do. He eased to his feet, no hurry, no trouble, and when he got to her he boxed her in with his body and reached up for the tea tin. ‘Sleep well?' he murmured.

‘Not really. The neon lights outside are driving me insane.'

‘Princess.'

‘Just because you can sleep in a room that's lit up like a carnival ride,' she muttered. ‘Sadist.'

‘Me?' That was rich, coming from her.
‘Me?'
He leaned in close and put his lips to her ear. ‘Hey, you're the one who's been up there doing the naughty all by yourself, princess. Did you think I wouldn't notice? Or that I wouldn't spend the rest of the day wondering exactly how you helped yourself and where? To my way of thinking that makes
you
the sadist, not me.'

‘Such a vivid imagination,' she murmured. ‘Do you really think I would do such a thing? In your bed or your shower or maybe even in your reading chair?' She tut-tutted him next and pressed a stern forefinger to his lips in a gesture guaranteed to drive him insane. ‘I have two words for you, sensei.' Two words and a world full of sensual challenge in her eyes. ‘Prove it.'

If Po hadn't chosen to barrel through the door Jake didn't know what he would have done. There would have been kissing, of a surety. His hand in her pants had seemed an entirely reasonable method of proving heaven only knew what.

As it was, Ji took one look at Po, shot a panicked glance in Jake's direction and turned her attention to the making of tea. The rest of breakfast went by in a flurry of tea making and congee eating on Jianne and Po's part and silent seething on his as he tried to bring his rampant arousal under control.

Fifteen minutes later, Po was on dish duty, and he and Jianne were crossing the training-room floor. Jianne on her way to work, and Jake on his way to make sure she made it into the goddamn taxi without mishap.

‘I can't believe you ever thought that living here with me—even temporarily—was going to work,' he muttered darkly.

‘Hey, you were the one who agreed to it.'

‘I must have been out of my mind.' That or he soon would be. ‘You do realise that if Zhi Fu doesn't strangle you, I will.'

‘No, you won't,' she said with far more certainty than was good for her. A slimly built man wearing a navy suit had entered the dojo and was making his way towards them. ‘Customer?'

‘Could be.' But it didn't seem likely.

‘My name's Richard Low,' said the man without preamble, once he reached them. ‘I'm looking for Mr Jacob Bennett.'

‘You've found him,' said Jake.

Richard Low wrinkled his nose as if assaulted by a particularly nasty odour. ‘Mr Bennett, may I confirm that you're the sole owner of this building?'

‘I am.'

‘Mr Bennett, it seems you have a few problems when it comes to compliance with building regulations.'

‘Like what?'

Richard Low smiled pleasantly. ‘Inadequate fire-safety measures in place, exposed electrical wiring, a possible breach of structural ceiling-beam requirements. Also non-compliant signage, and I notice you don't have a ramp for wheelchair access.'

‘Karate being such a popular sport with people in wheelchairs,' murmured Jianne.

‘Mr Low, is it?' asked Jake politely. The man nodded, ‘May I see some identification?' Low's eyes narrowed ominously, but he produced ID within plastic that proclaimed him a building inspector. Jake kept hold of it. ‘And the paperwork to accompany these alleged breaches? May I see that as well?'

‘There isn't any. Yet.'

‘I see.' Jake took another glance at the ID card. ‘Mr Low, if you wouldn't mind waiting here for a moment I'll see my wife on her way to work, come back and verify your details with the proper authorities, and then accompany you on your inspection. You know how it is. Can't be too careful.'

Richard Low didn't like being sidelined. Ah, well.

‘You've made a friend,' said Jianne as he escorted her towards the door. Jake sent her a speaking glance.

‘Building inspectors drop by often, then?'

‘Not in my experience,' he said. ‘This unwanted suitor of yours. What does he do?'

‘He builds roads. You think he has something to do with this?'

‘Maybe. Or it could be someone else bent on making trouble. Maybe someone connected to Po. Could be nothing.'

Jianne looked conflicted.

‘Hey,' he said more gently. ‘If something needs fixing I'll fix it or I'll get it fixed. It's really not a big deal.'

‘Please be careful, Jacob.'

‘Concern for me? And here I thought you were trying to drive me insane.'

‘Only a little.'

‘Yeah, well, it's working.' He saw her into the waiting taxi. ‘I'll pick you up at five thirty.'

Half a minute later he was back in his office and picking up the phone. Five minutes after that Jake smiled a tiger's smile at a sweating Richard Low. ‘So,' he said. ‘Where do you want to start?'

 

Five-thirty came around fast for Jianne. Jacob phoned through to say he was downstairs. Jianne took her hair down in the lift to save time and avoid the agony and ecstasy of Jacob's touch. He smiled wryly and handed her a helmet. His kiss came moments later, brief and unexpected.

‘Your cousins dropped off a few bags of stuff for you today,' he murmured. ‘Dare I ask what was in them?'

‘Clothes, I hope. Most of my belongings are still in Shanghai, waiting to be shipped. Can we stop by a fabric store on the way home today?'

‘What for?'

‘Therapy, discourse, and curtain material?'

‘If this is for the bedroom, I got someone in to measure the windows for blinds this morning,' he said. ‘They'll be ready to fit in two days' time. We've rigged up some more makeshift curtains for you until then.'

Jianne stared at him in growing discomfort. ‘You ordered window dressings for me?'

‘Not exactly. I've been thinking about doing something about the light up there for a while now. Ever since the new neon sign went up across the road.'

The point being that thinking wasn't doing, and until she'd complained he hadn't bothered to do anything about it. ‘Jacob—' How to put this without offending his pride. ‘Would it be possible for me to assist with the purchase of these blinds? Seeing as I'm reaping the benefit?'

‘No.' His expression hardened. ‘When Zhi Fu comes to his senses, you'll be gone and the blinds will stay and then I'll be the one reaping the benefit. I live the way I live because I want to, Jianne. Not because I can't afford better. I can pay for blinds.'

‘Okay.' Clearly there'd been
no
way to make that offer without offending his pride. ‘I like the way you live, Jacob,' she said quietly. ‘I think well of the man who chooses to live such a life.'

‘It's not what you're used to.'

‘Maybe not.' An old argument, this one, centred around Jacob's role as the provider for his siblings, and for his wife. He'd been furious when he'd found out how
wealthy her family was. How wealthy
she
was. His pride had been hurt. His trust in her abused. His willingness to accept
her
wealth as
their
wealth had been non-existent. ‘I know you think I find your world lacking, Jacob. I come in and start changing things and it seems like I'm criticising the way you live. I didn't mean to. I couldn't sleep, that was
all
. The lights from outside, they—'