Living in Sin (Living In…) (3 page)

She’d fibbed a little bit about the audition and what the directors had said about her trying too hard. Mainly because she didn’t want to talk about the missed years she had to make up for. About how her body, once a finely tuned and well-oiled machine, had failed her four years ago and how it continued to keep failing her.

How some days she hated it.

About how she had to do something to get back the control over it. Because if she couldn’t dance, she may as well have let the leukemia take her.

But you didn’t. Because fighting is all you know how to do.

Lily stared at the flames, trying not to be so conscious of the man in the armchair behind her. Jesus, she
really
should have shut up.

The silence lengthened.

Lily’s restlessness doubled. Abruptly she shoved her hands in the pockets of her coat again and turned around to face him. “Sorry,” she said sarcastically. “Did that embarrass you?”

Kahu’s dark eyes betrayed nothing. He sat there with his legs outstretched and crossed at the ankles, long fingers cradling the crystal tumbler. Loose and relaxed, as if he didn’t have a care in the world. She couldn’t seem to drag her gaze from the hollow of his throat, following the line of the necklace cord to where it disappeared under the white cotton of his shirt.

“No,” he said after a long moment. “You didn’t embarrass me. And I’m flattered, obviously. But, sweetheart, you barely know me.” His deep, husky voice had gentled, like he was speaking to a child.

A spike of anger shot through her. “I know enough to want to fuck you. Do I need to know anything else?”

He didn’t seem offended. In fact, the bastard only laughed. “I’m supposed to be the one objectifying you, not the other way around.”

“Stop being so fucking patronizing.”

“Darling, you’re twenty years old. Everything I say to you is going to sound patronizing.”

He wasn’t going to take her seriously, was he? God, she hated being told no. It only made her want to fight harder to get the yes she wanted.

Lily took a couple of steps toward him, stopping short of his feet. She wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do, only that it had to be something drastic. Like she’d done out on the steps of the club.

Her hands went to the sides of her coat and his gaze followed the movement. “What did I say about originality?” he said mildly. “I’ve had hundreds of women strip in front of me, love. You’ll be just one more.”

Lily stared at him, caught not by his words but by the tone running beneath them. A genuine world-weariness. Well, Jesus, no wonder, given the reputation he had for cutting a swathe through the female population of Auckland. And some of the male too from all accounts.

He’s right. Stripping and being shocking in front of him is not going to get you what you want. Not from someone like him.

She let go the sides of her coat, folded her arms instead. “What can I say to make you change your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Give me a chance to try at least.”

“Why should I? You haven’t given me a good enough reason to put my long and enduring business relationship with your father at risk by screwing his virgin daughter.”

“Dad doesn’t have to know.”

Kahu rested his head back against the chair, looking at her from underneath his long, ridiculously thick black lashes. “If there’s one thing I’ve learned over the past thirty-eight, nearly thirty-nine years, it’s that nothing stays secret for long. And while we’re on the subject of years, you do realize that I’m old enough to—”

“Don’t say it.”

“Be your father.”

“And you think I’m being unoriginal. Is that the best excuse you’ve got?”

He was silent a long moment, the roughly handsome lines of his face giving nothing away. Then he raised the tumbler and drained it before putting it back on the side table with a click. “I don’t think getting angry with me is the best idea. That’s not going to get you anywhere.”

“I’m…not angry.”

“Sure you are.” Kahu pushed himself out of the chair. “You’re pissed I said no.”

Lily swallowed as he straightened, aware of how close he was standing all of a sudden. She felt dwarfed. Jesus, she barely came up to his shoulder. She tilted her head back, looking up at him, unfamiliar physical awareness pouring through her.

He was all wide shoulders, broad chest and powerful arms. Not at all like the slender muscularity of the male dancers she’d been used to. Or the male doctors she’d met, not that she counted them since gender didn’t matter when you were in hospital.

Do you really know what you’re asking for?

The thought crept through her, trailing a thin thread of fear after it. Sex wasn’t something she’d thought about in any great depth for years. Not when nausea and weakness and pain had dominated her life for so long.

“Yeah, okay, so I’m pissed,” Lily said fiercely, denying the fear. “I don’t like people telling me no.”

His mouth curved in a faint smile. “I can see that. You must have terrified the people at your audition.”

Well, no, not quite. “Which is exactly why I’m standing here.”

He studied her for a moment. “Is dancing really that important to you?”

“I don’t know, is breathing important to you?”

“Ah. Like that, I see.”

“It
is
like that.”

Kahu folded his arms, the movement making him seem even bigger somehow. The white cotton had pulled tight across his biceps, the color highlighting the bronze skin of his long, taut forearms. “Lily,” he said with that infuriating gentleness. “You can’t make me change my mind.”

“Would you like me to sit outside your club for the next couple of weeks? Or maybe I’ll just call Dad. Tell him you’re hitting on me and I don’t like it.”

A crashing silence fell.

The smile never wavered on Kahu’s face, though the look in his eyes became sharp, piercing her like an arrow. “You’re not going to do that.” His voice remained soft. “You’re a better person than that.”

Shame crept through her, burning in her cheeks, because again, he was right. It had been an empty threat uttered to regain some control over a situation that was rapidly spinning out of it.

God, she was so sick of feeling powerless.

She wanted to move again, pace around to get rid of the sensation, but she made herself hold her ground. Look him in the eye. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, you shouldn’t.”

“Kahu, please.” It wasn’t much, but the simplicity of the request was all she had left. “Help me.”

Something changed in his expression then, the sharpness fading. “Fuck.” He let out a breath, his gaze flickering away. For a long time he was silent, then he said finally, “Okay. I suppose I could.”

She blinked, not expecting it. “What? How?”

“Make no mistake, I’m not going to sleep with you. But perhaps I could help you learn a few seduction techniques.”

Well, shit. How did that work? She frowned at him. “I’m not sure how that’s going to help me. I’m after passion not seduction.”

“An audition
is
a seduction. And passion plays a part. For a good seduction to work, you
have
to be passionate. But I’m not talking about physical passion, I’m talking emotional passion. You have to want it and show them you want it. You have to commit wholly to it, seduce them into wanting you instead of anyone else.”

You’re holding back…

The words of the director were loud in her head. She’d never thought of an audition quite in those terms before but…he had a point. “I guess so. Except… How do I do that? I don’t think they’d take too kindly to me taking off my clothes all of a sudden.”

“Seduction isn’t wholly about sex. It’s about appealing to people intellectually as well as physically. Going for their hearts and minds, as well as their bodies. “

She shifted restlessly. “Yeah, I can see that. But… What do you mean by helping me learn a few seduction techniques?”

“I’m a thirty-eight-year-old, jaded and cynical manwhore. I’ve seen everything. Done everything. And if you can seduce me, Lily Andrews, you can seduce anyone.”

“Wait. You mean you want
me
to seduce
you
?”

He was already moving past her, going over to the door. “I don’t want you to do anything, love. I’m just saying, if you can make me sit up and take notice, then you’ll have those people at the audition eating out of the palm of your hand.”

“But…I don’t know how to do that.”

Kahu paused at the door, turning back to look at her. “Think about it. I’ve given you a few pointers already.”

Lily tightened her folded arms over her thudding heart. “I mean, where? When?”

He was silent a second. “When is your next audition?”

“In six weeks.”

“Okay, how about this then? Every Monday night you have exactly one hour in which to try and seduce me. Seven till eight p.m. No touching.”

She hadn’t expected this, not in the least. But it was…intriguing. A challenge. “But what’s the point if you’re not going to have sex with me?”

“Sex isn’t the point, remember? But hey, feel free to see if you can get me to change my mind.” He grinned at her suddenly, a boyish, cocky kind of smile that made him seem a lot younger than he was. “You’ve got six weeks.”

Chapter Three

“Hey, what’s up with you?” Eleanor was looking at him strangely, and Kahu realized she’d been waiting for a response from him for a while and he hadn’t said a word.

With an effort, he pulled himself together and gave her a practiced smile. “What? Nothing.”

“Yes, there is. You’ve been quiet the whole evening. It’s not like you.”

Kahu let out a silent breath. He felt strangely flat but then he always felt that way on Thursdays. At least he had since Anita had passed away. Thursdays had been the day he’d visit her, which mainly involved reading her favorite books aloud to her since conversation was impossible. Especially since she hadn’t known who he was anymore.

He’d liked those afternoons, sitting in her room that was always drenched in sun. The whole place would be quiet, a kind of hushed silence, as if everyone there was holding its collective breath. He’d found it restful. Anita had used to sit in a chair by the window while he’d had the chair opposite. Sometimes she’d be agitated seeing him, sometimes she’d only stare. When she could still speak, she’d kept asking him who he was, or calling him George, her late husband’s name. He’d always reply that he was a friend.

And then he would sit down and read to her and she’d always calm down. Her eyes would close and for a precious twenty minutes or so, she’d look like the woman she’d once been. The woman he’d once loved.

He missed those afternoons.

“Yeah, I’m just tired.” He leaned forward, grabbed his glass of wine and took a sip. It wasn’t scotch but then it was still only five p.m. Hardly scotch o’clock.

“And you look it.” Eleanor, one of his closest friends, narrowed her gray eyes at him. “What’s going on?”

Jesus, he’d forgotten what a pain in the butt Thursday night drinks could be. He and the small group of people he’d met during his abortive couple of years of law school, got together every Thursday night in the Ivy Room of the Auckland Club as a catch-up.

Normally it had been the four of them: himself, Eleanor, Victoria and Connor. Then Victoria and Connor had separated, while six months earlier Eleanor had fallen in love with a younger man, and things had changed.

Luc, Eleanor’s lover, had joined them on a semi-regular basis, while Victoria and Connor never came together.

Perhaps that’s why he felt flat. Too many changes. Not that he didn’t like Eleanor’s guy. When they’d first got together, Kahu had read him the riot act about never hurting Eleanor otherwise he’d be dead. Luc had told him to fuck off and mind his own business. All good, in other words.

Connor, on the other hand, had gotten way too starchy since he and Victoria had split. He’d once been a relaxed kind of guy, but not anymore. Since he fronted his own law firm and was making a name for himself, it was like he couldn’t put a foot wrong or something.

Kahu’s antithesis.

“Kahu, come on.” Eleanor raised a brow. “This is the second time you’ve basically ignored me.”

“You really want to know?” He wasn’t going to tell them about Anita, no one knew she’d died and he didn’t want to go into a whole lot of explanations now. “I’m thinking about selling the club.”

Eleanor’s gaze went wide. “What? Really?”

Across the table, Connor, who’d been talking to Luc, stopped all of a sudden, his sharp, blue eyes coming to Kahu’s. “You’re kidding me?”

“Nope.” Kahu took another sip of his wine. Perhaps he shouldn’t have come out with it like that, given his friends a bit of time to adjust or…something. Whatever, it was his club. He could do what he liked with it.

“But…why?” Eleanor asked. “I thought you loved this place?”

He found his gaze caught by Eleanor’s hand on the table, her pale fingers laced with Luc’s dark, tattooed ones. For some reason the sight of it made something inside him tighten, though he couldn’t imagine what that might be.

He didn’t want a lover right now. And he certainly had never been all that fussed about love. Been there, done that, got the cracks through his heart to show for it.

“I do,” he said, dragging his gaze away from their fingers. “But, you know, we all have to move on at some stage.”

“Yeah, but you? Move on from this place? I mean…” She trailed off.

Connor’s dark brows twitched. “What are you going to do instead? Buy another bar?”

“Why? Because I haven’t got any other qualifications?”

“Exactly.” Connor never shied away from the truth. Fucking lawyer that he was. “Not that that will be an issue, of course. You’ll get millions from this place, I would think.”

Naturally he would also think in terms of money. Connor didn’t have a sentimental bone in his body. Then again, neither did Kahu. At least, he never had before.

“Enough to retire on, you think?” Kahu asked him.

Connor looked around, assessing. “Possibly. The market in Auckland isn’t hugely buoyant at the moment, but I would think you’d get a few million, especially if you sold it as a going concern.”

“It’s not happening,” Eleanor said flatly. “Because Kahu isn’t going to sell it, are you, Kahu?”

“I don’t think that’s your call to make, Ell,” Connor said, his frown making him look even more severe than normal.

“Hey, I spend a large proportion of my time in this place. I think I have a right to at least tell him when he’s being a fucking idiot.”

Connor opened his mouth to no doubt argue with her when his mobile went off. His frown deepened as he checked the screen. “I have to get this,” he said tersely, picking up the phone and answering it with a cold, “Blake here.”

As Connor got up from the table and left the bar area for somewhere quieter, Eleanor leaned over toward the man at her side. “Hey honey, want to go get me another drink?”

But Luc wasn’t fooled. He shot Kahu a sharp glance before looking back at the woman beside him. “If you want some privacy,
soleil
, you only need to say.”

She rolled her eyes, but Kahu was interested to note a flush rising to her cheeks. Eleanor didn’t often get flustered, but Luc was the one person who managed to do it to her every single time. And she appeared to love it.

It was good to see her happy. She deserved it so much. He didn’t know the details of what had gone on with her awful divorce, only that it had nearly broken her. And he hadn’t been able to fix her.

Like you weren’t able to fix things with Anita.

Well, that was a fucking stupid thought. Of course he hadn’t been able to fix things with Anita. She’d had Huntington’s disease and at its onset, had decided to break things off with him. There was nothing he could have done.

But you wanted to stay all the same.

He’d been twenty-five. So young. His whole life ahead of him. Or at least, that’s what Anita had told him. Why stay to look after a middle-aged woman through a devastating disease? Better to go and live your life… Then she’d cut him loose.

He’d been so angry at the time. She’d given him so much. A place to live, an education, music, culture, beauty. All the things a poor rent boy from the streets of South Auckland had never even dreamt of, let alone had within reach.

Everything except love, apparently.

You’re still angry about that.

No, fuck, he wasn’t. He’d gotten over that a long time ago.

Luc got up, bending to give Eleanor a kiss before he headed through the crowded room toward the bar.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Eleanor gave Kahu a severe look. “It’s me, Kahu,” she said softly. “Come on.”

He stared at her, at the lines of her lovely face. At the light in her eyes. A light that hadn’t ever been there before. “You’re happy, aren’t you, Ell?”

She frowned. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“He makes you happy, doesn’t he?”

The frown melted away and she smiled. It was breathtaking. “Yes.”

A tightness formed in his chest. Fuck, he didn’t know why that was. Happiness was always what he’d wanted for her, so the fact that she’d finally found it should make him feel good. And it did, yet there was another emotion threading through that. A darker emotion. Envy, if he was honest with himself. Because really, who wouldn’t want to be that happy?

“That’s good, Ell. I’m glad,” he said.

“Yeah, well, we worked hard for it. Luc’s got…certain issues and the past six months haven’t been easy. But we’re getting through that.” Her gaze was direct. “It’s not just that Luc gives me what I want, he also gives me what I need. Things I never knew I needed until I met him.”

“I can see that. Seems like my advice was good after all, huh?”

Eleanor’s smile deepened. “You could say that.”

“That’s part of why I’m selling.” Kahu pushed his glass away. He could tell Eleanor. She deserved an explanation if anyone did. “I need something more. And I don’t know what that is yet. But I have a feeling I’m not going to find it here.”

The smile on her face faded. “You think I don’t see it, Kahu, but I do. I know you’re not happy. And I know…” She hesitated. “You haven’t been with anyone in a while either, have you?”

He gave a soft laugh at that. “Shit. Since when have you been taking note of my sex life?”

“Since you don’t have one. There’s a blonde sitting behind me who’s just your type, but you haven’t even looked at her. Not once. Now that’s
really
not like you.”

Actually, she was kind of wrong. He
had
looked at her. But only once when the woman had sat down. Yes, she was his type—or had been up until six months ago—yet she hadn’t done a thing for him now. Not even a flicker.

Lily did more for you than that.

The thought streaked through his brain, bright as a comet. And he sat there, transfixed for a second by the memory of white skin like vanilla ice cream. So pale against the black denim of her jeans.

Fucking perfect tits…

A thread of sexual desire pulled tight.

No. Shit no. He wrenched his thoughts back to the present. Jesus, he could not start thinking about Lily like that. If he wanted a quick screw, he should be going for the blonde sitting behind Eleanor.

“Perhaps I’ve decided to be asexual for a while,” he said flippantly. “I’ve tried just about everything else.”

She snorted. “Bullshit. There’s something else happening with you. And okay, if you don’t want to tell me, fine. But if it’s bothering you to the extent you’re selling the club you love in an attempt to move on, perhaps you should talk to someone about it. Take it from me, pretending something doesn’t exist won’t help.”

He wasn’t pretending. He was grieving. Apparently. Hell, perhaps an inappropriate desire toward the daughter of a business associate was all part of the process. It would certainly explain the urge to help Lily that had come out of nowhere the moment she’d said
please
. Especially when what he should have done was to get angry at her blatant manipulation.

But that simple request…fuck, he hadn’t been asked like that for years. If ever. Plus she’d been desperate, that much was obvious. And afraid, though of what he didn’t know. Any anger he’d felt had melted away at that stage because he knew fear. Had felt it too many times in his own life to ignore hers. So he’d relented and offered to help. Of course it had also been an excellent way to get rid of her. Hell, with any luck she wouldn’t even turn up on Monday night.

“Sure,” he said. “I know that. But don’t worry about me, Ell. I’ll be okay.” He reached across the table to put a reassuring hand over hers. “I always am.”

Lily stood in front of her closet on Monday evening and scanned through the rack of clothes for the fifty-millionth time. What the hell did one wear to seduce a man? The obvious answer was something short, something with a plunging neckline, or something transparent. Preferably all three at the same time.

The problem with a plunging neckline was that she had no cleavage to speak of. Transparent meant her too-thin, bony body might show. But short…well, she could do short. Her legs were probably the only thing she had going for her.

Lily began to reach for her black lace mini dress then stopped.

Be original…

He must see women all the time in short skirts with their tits hanging out. And certainly the little boob-flashing she’d done hadn’t seemed to have any effect on him whatsoever.

Seduction isn’t about sex…

She pulled a face, staring at the clothes on the rack. Then abruptly she shut the door and turned around, going over to her chest of drawers. Pulling open a drawer, she rummaged around until she’d found what she was looking for: a pair of black leather paneled leggings and a plain black T-shirt. Nothing particularly seductive about the outfit except the leggings showcased the length of her legs rather nicely. And the T-shirt was moderately fitting. She didn’t bother with a bra since she mostly never bothered with one anyway.

Dressed, she stood in front of the mirror and scowled at herself. Not overtly seductive and maybe all the black was a touch aggressive, but hey, he’d suggested originality. And she guessed that not many women would have tried seducing him in leggings and a T-shirt before.

Turning, she went and grabbed her duffel coat, because she felt the cold and she’d be damned if she went anywhere without it. Besides, she could always take it off sexily…or something.

Pausing by the mirror, she checked out her hair, debated briefly whether to tie it back then decided against it due to lack of interest in fiddling with it. Her makeup was non-existent but a brief swipe of mascara and some lip balm would do. Again, he was probably used to heavily made-up girls. Which of course meant she wouldn’t be.

Satisfied, Lily went out of her bedroom and down the white-carpeted stairs that led down into the ostentatiously grand hallway. Through a set of double doors off the hallway was the lounge, again ostentatious. Large windows looked out onto her father’s immaculate rose gardens and rolling green lawn, reminiscent of an English country manor. Except smaller and located in Remuera in New Zealand.

On a low coffee table next to a silver bowl full of freshly cut white roses, was exactly what she’d been looking for. Her father’s chess set. It was beautifully carved and expensive—naturally enough since everything of her father’s tended to be expensive—which made it perfect.