The Contract: Sunshine (11 page)

He had good intentions of taking Sunshine home when he o
f
fered her the ride.  It never crossed his mind to want anything else from her than to help him with Leslie.  Then he spoke with her and argued with her and he found her interesting and mysterious.

An heiress?
He shook his head and laughed softly.
  Come on, who comes up with that one these days when it could be checked out easily enough.
  Reaching for an ironed t-shirt that read:
SMILE AND SAY KIMCHI
with a camera emblazed on the front of it from his walk-in cl
o
set shelf, he tugged it over his head and shoved his arms through the sleeves.  He raked his fingers through the feathered and razor edged bangs co
m
bing it out of his eyes.

The more he argued with Sunshine, the more attractive he found her.  Being a man in his position of power and wealth, rarely did anyone mouth off at him, much less call him an “ass” to his face.  And that had been the kindest thing amongst the other things she thought he hadn’t heard her mumble u
n
der her breath. 

His mouth curved into an unconscious smile.

Yoon knew the smart thing would have been to let her walk away from him, but after the first kiss all he could think was he wanted more of her.  More kisses would have been fine.  While against the wall when he got the more kisses, he found he wanted to see her body beneath him naked; hear more of her moaning his name hotly in his ears; the tightness of her legs wrapped around his hips.  She was so generous and unlike him, uninhibited.  

It would never have occurred to him to actually act upon any thoughts of exhibitionistic behaviors he may have fantasized about doing in a public place. 

Two things happened to Yoon at once:  his heart felt as if it was about to leap up and out of his throat and his dick was waving a weepy reminder that it had yet to get properly dipped and served.

Deciding he’d left Sunshine to her own devices with instructions to make herself at home long enough, he rushed out of his bedroom and down the hall only to slow his steps and take in a deep breath before he rounded the corner into the living room. 

Yoon didn’t want to seem eager.  She might assume him one of those “jack rabbit” type of guys who go at it quickly for a minute or two and shoot his load.

Okay.  That is what he did with her against the brick wall so he had every intention of representing Korean men in a better light than that.  If there were bad rumors about Asian men as lovers, he was going to make sure it wasn’t the Korean men that were causing the bad rumors.

It had been a couple of hours since they had worked up a sweat in the car and he knew he was going to have to work on building the mood again, but he was more than up for the challenge.

Yoon had expected to see Sunshine when he walked around the corner.  Hell, he was actually looking forward to it, but he didn’t expect what he did find.  The place was damn near spotless.  Nearly because black bags of what he assumed was trash were lined up nea
r
the door to be taken out.  The bottles of leftover liquor were grouped t
o
gether on the dining room table along with cleaned larger kitchen items that she must hadn’t been sure where they needed to go. 

She had found the vacuum cleaner but hadn’t yet put it back in the utility closet most likely because from what he could see in the clear holder, it needed emptying.  There was also still a bottle of glass cleaner and can of furniture polish on the now clean oak and glass coffee table waiting to be put away.

He saw all of what Sunshine had done, but he didn’t see what he was looking for—Sunshine.  He felt a panic feeling in the pit of his st
o
mach that she had left before he got her number or for all he knew what if she had lied about her name.  He wouldn’t ever get the chance to see and kiss her again and that thought bothered him more than he wanted to take the time at the moment to reflect on.

No sooner had Yoon rushed past the sofa, his bare feet skidded and nearly pitched him against the front door that he spotted her a
s
leep on the sofa that faced the door.

He stood there, blank, amazed that she hadn’t left, and very sh
a
ken by the cold knot of emotions unfurling within him.  For a moment his breath seemed to have solidified in his throat.

Sunshine had removed her expensive suit and now wore one of his t-shirts.  It was the one he had pulled off in the laundry room earlier in the day after showering and not wanting to dress for his dinner date with Leslie until clo
s
er to time to leave.

She had piled her hair atop her head in a pigtail.  That made her too cute.  His eyes roamed over her arms and legs thinking, all that bare skin, looking healthy, nice and brown just waiting for him to touch and caress every bit of it.  He started to grin like an idiot then stopped once he realized he’d been busy working and missed her bending over clea
n
ing in that shirt. 
Damn
.

Then the suspicion crept in.  He was curious as to what kind of woman had he brought into his home?  She’s offered herself to him so freely that he couldn’t help being suspicious.  It wouldn’t be the first time a man of his wealth and standing had been approached by one of Washington’s “escorts” to the elite politicians and business men of D.C. and he’s hired a few to work parties for his clients.

Could that be why oddly enough she looked familiar to him?  Had she been at his party with the other escorts and he hadn’t noticed her in the crowd?  There were a lot of people there.  What if all of this was a ruse to garner his attention and like an idiot he fell for it?

No.  Yoon mentally shook away the creeping suspicions.  How could that even be possible?  There was no way she could have predicted his actions.  She wouldn’t know that he was going to try and persuade Leslie to lose her interest in him.  He hadn’t even realized until the end of the dinner that Leslie was expecting a marriage match.

He walked over to the leather burgundy sectional to look down at her sleeping form.  It was amazing how this slip of a woman could be a burning ball of fire about to consume him down in the car, yet look so damn sweet and vulnerable now lying half naked in his t-shirt.

Yoon felt a ridiculous protective stirring inside.  He couldn’t i
m
agine her having a hard life where she had to rely on her body as a means to help her survive.  This type of work was very dangerous no matter what caliber of clients they catered to.  There was always some inherited risk in the escort profession.  Could that be why her mother was setting her up with a preacher?  Albeit, a horn dog of a preacher.  But maybe her mother had good intentions and hoped the preacher could get her out of a not so chaste lifestyle.

Damn
.  Why did he keep coming back to this conclusion?  What did it say about him that it was easier for him to believe Sunshine could be a professional hooker quicker than he could believe her claim to be an heiress?

He eased onto the sofa beside her, placed a soft cream, colored throw pillow beneath her head and scooted over until her head was res
t
ing on the pillow in his lap.  At his interruption, she only stirred and the corner of her mouth turned upward in a smile.  Before sighing deeply, she shifted onto her side fa
c
ing away from him.

Yoon ran his forefinger and index fingers along the delicate length of her nose, over the full softness of her lips and along the high peaks of her cheeks.   

Silently he forgave himself for his earlier thoughts of her chara
c
ter.  He had a good reason to think Sunshine had lied to him about whom she was.  He might have believed she was an heiress if she hadn’t claimed to be the
Dupree Food’s
He
i
ress. 

Yoon had done business with Sophia Dupree and although he hadn’t seen her granddaughter in person, she saw a picture of her amongst all the other pictures atop the grand piano in the parlor of that spacious mausoleum Mrs. D
u
pree called home.

The Dupree family was one of the few wealthy African Amer
i
cans, not only in the Washington area, but in the United States in general.

Gaining Sophia Dupree as an investor had been a feather in his cap and it had garnered him a lot of free publicity in every major fina
n
cial and business magazine in Asian, Europe and America.  

Sophia Dupree came from old Southern money.  She was also able to trace her multicultural ancestry back two centuries, which was something she was very proud of.

Yoon remembered it so well because the elderly woman had not only been still physically lovely
—
considering she was well into her eig
h
ties
—
she also had a very sharp mind and a keen sense of business.  Any savvy business wordage he had planned to use on her was quickly dashed as she started out the meeting telling him to sit down, shut up and let her do all the talking. 

He had been prepared to get down to business only to have been brought up short when she started to talk about her family and the strong stock she came from...

“Mr. Young, being born an immigrant of this country, I will assume you are familiar with whom the ‘American Dream’ was form
u
lated for.”
  Sophia Dupree had said to him with a soft southern drawl that b
e
littled the stern businesswoman he’d read her to be. 

Respecting her wish for him to remain silent, he simply had no
d
ded at her.  She had given him a serene smile and for a moment he wo
n
dered if she had been sitting next to him instead of across from him if she would have patted him on the head like an obedient little boy.

“You and I don’t fit the mold and I for one am glad of it.”
  She had a laugh as soft as her speaking voice. 
“It makes being stinking rich and successful all the more sweet.”

Yoon had chuckled at that.  He had never thought of it that way before, but he was pretty smug about all he managed to accomplish.  However, he had always heard of the success that could be gained in America, so he wasn’t surprised at all by his success even though he was South Korean.
 

It would have surprised him more if he had failed; but he and Sophia Dupree were from different places in time.  He knew enough of American history to realize all her family had accomplished over the years was truly something to be proud of.

“For people of color to be able to trace their family history after the bad record keeping during slavery makes it almost impossible for you to know the stock we come from.”

Her paper thin honey colored hand had brushed unseen mussed hair behind her ear; unseen only because the woman didn’t have one hair out of place.  As a matter-of-fact, her expertly applied makeup and e
x
pensive vintage forties tea length skirt suit was as immaculate as the coifed knot at the nape of her elongated neck.

Yoon knew Mrs. Dupree had wanted to keep the upper hand of the meeting by dominating the conversation and choosing a topic that had nothing to do with the reason for his visit.  If Yoon wasn’t anything else, he was patient. 

He had done his homework before the meeting and if Sophia Dupree had wanted to talk about any frivolous subject matter, he was going to sit there and listen to her.  It meant closing the deal at the end of that meeting.

“
Mr.Young, my family has had only one slave owning family and even after they became emancipated, they still chose to remain on the Dupree plantation.  Mostly, because of the blood ties, but also b
e
cause the Duprees were good to their slaves.   Of course my great Grand’Mere couldn’t ever marry Jean Claude Dupree.  She was mighty proud to be his ch
a
telaine and bear him three healthy children.
”
 

That was when she stood and motioned for him to follow her over to the piano where she sat and started to play a classical piece he’d heard before. 
Chopin’s Prélude op 28 nr 24
.  It wasn’t one of his fav
o
rites but she played it very well considering she was able to continue o
r
dering him about.

“
Don’t just stand there gawking at me, son.  I didn’t bring you over here for my musical abilities; they’re only passing at best.  What I’m doing is setting some mood music for you to go down my picture memory lane.”

Yoon had laughed.  Thinking upon it now, he continued to find the time with Mrs. Dupree humorous and insightful into his own neglec
t
ful life.