Chapter 2
2
HANA
“ Y ou must tell me your secret, dear,” Veronica Valentine says, nibbling on the corner of a homemade tartlet.
I’m so engrossed by the giant on the far end of my day spa that her words fly completely over my head.
“Excuse me?” I struggle to pull my eyes away from the enormous beast of a man dressed in his all-black suit, even after the tiny woman in front of him pulled him in for a … I’m not really sure what. If it was a kiss, it sure was an awkward one.
Oh, goodness, I’m doing it again, aren’t I? Fawning over a man I don’t stand a chance with and feeling the rumbling pang of jealousy grabbing hold of my senses. But it’s not every day someone like him enters the Hanging Gardens, with his cool charm, dapper elegance, and?—
Breathe, Hana. I remind myself.
“I was just saying, you have to tell me how you get these so perfect,” Veronica continues, unbothered and unaware of my inner turmoil. Probably for the best. I couldn’t bear the embarrassment of her knowing. “Moist and fluffy, but still with a satisfying crunch. They’re scrumptious.”
“I’d tell you the secret if I knew it, Mrs. Valentine.” I force a chuckle, doing my best to keep my eyes level with my guest rather than turning back to the giant in my lobby, wreaking havoc on my brain. “I’m terrible in the kitchen, so I leave it to the professionals.”
Veronica snorts a laugh and sets the remainder of her tartlet on the small dish in front of her. “Very wise. If only I knew you thirty years ago, I could’ve learned a lot to temper my ambitions.”
“Why try and do a thousand things when you’re really good at one?” I shift my gaze toward him again.
One more look, and then I’ll stop. For all I know, it’s the last time I’ll ever see him.
Better make the best of it while he’s around.
I catch the pair in the middle of a hug. It’s short, with her wrapping both arms around him while he gives her a pat on the back, and then it’s done.
Not the sort of thing lovers would do.
But that shouldn’t be the thing on my mind. God, I don’t even know the guy, and in a spa full of beautiful women, he could be heading over to any of them next.
Instead, he’s coming over to us.
Wait! He’s coming over to us? Oh, shit. Have I done something to piss someone off? Otherwise, there’s no other reason a well-dressed man would storm directly toward me.
And still, I’m not sure if the tingles running up my spine are because he’s nearing or I might be in trouble.
“Ah, here he is now,” Veronica coos as the beast approaches.
I turn toward whoever she’s speaking about and see him. With shimmering gold eyes lingering over me, drinking me in, and amplifying my nerves.
Holy shit, it’s like I’ve never caught a man’s attention before. And maybe, until now, I haven’t. Not really. All the others were practice runs for the real deal.
And Mr. Valentine sure is the realest of deals.
“Hana, I’d like to introduce you to my son, Vance.” Veronica stands when he gets to the table. “Vance, this is Hana. Owner and manager of the Hanging Gardens, and also a dear friend of mine.”
“Hel—” He chokes on the start of his word and shakes his head before trying again. “It’s a pleasure, Hana.”
“It is.” I stand and offer him my hand. He takes it and shakes it, but when it’s time to let go, I can feel how little he wants to.
“I hate to interrupt you two, but Ma, we’ve gotta run.” Vance shrugs, and a massive sigh tears out of him.
“Nonsense.” Veronica flicks her hand to send his words away. “Hana has prepared us a banquet.” She gestures over the table where various tarts, cakes, and other pastries wait to be eaten. “And she made some exotic tea from … where was it, hon?”
“Japan.” I peel my eyes off the enormous slab of man and reach for the teapot. The ornate design doesn’t do much in the way of showing the black tea blend inside, but I feel the need to do something with my hands.
I pour three cups and sit back down.
“I have a meeting in—” He tries to lift his arm to check his watch, but Veronica catches it before he gets to see.
“You have a meeting with your mom and her friend,” she says with finality. Vance nods and pulls out Veronica’s chair.
“In a minute. I forgot something in the back, and I need to fetch it.” She smiles at me, then her son, and disappears into the haze of people coming and going from the tea shop.
Something tells me her sudden need to leave isn’t because of some forgotten item. But who am I to second-guess a dear client?
Vance shakes his head and smiles. “Then there were two.”
And with it comes my guilt-free inspection of his body. Not that I’d be able to stop myself if Veronica were still here, but it’s much easier with it only being us.
His wet jacket clinging to his massive upper body makes it easier. It reveals his huge arms attached to broad shoulders, a barrel chest that narrows inward at the waist, just generally the kind of body that screams I spend a lot of time in the gym .
But my haphazard glances come to a stop as I travel past his belt, and my eyes lock onto something they probably shouldn’t…
The outline of his manhood, stiff and constrained, against the front of his trousers. He’s lucky it’s tied down by his underwear because if it shot straight out, the tent would be enough to take someone’s eye out.
I catch myself staring too long, my heartbeat thumping in my ears, as a mix of guilt and desire floods my system. It’s partly to stop myself from drooling at the sight but mostly out of the necessity to urge him to hide it away before his mother returns.
“You might want to sit down,” I say, feeling my teeth instinctually sink into my lower lip.
“There’s no time to sit down, darlin’. I’ve gotta mosey on down the old dusty trail,” Vance says with the most put-on cowboy accent I’ve ever heard. He shakes his head, and the internal struggle of Why the hell would you do that? washes over his face, blending beautifully with his ever-reddening cheeks.
I can’t help but giggle at him.
“When I say might, I mean sit down. Like immediately. Unless you want someone seeing something they shouldn’t.” I gesture downward with my eyes.
With a furrowed brow, Vance looks down. His eyes widen, and he swallows hard enough for me to hear when he realizes what I’m pointing at.
“Oh, shit.” He pulls a chair out and falls into it, looking around at the other tables to see if anyone else noticed. “Guess the wet pants making everything stick to me isn’t helping.”
“Well, you can take solace in knowing your pants aren’t the only thing that’s wet.” Holy shit, did I really just say that? I turn my head away immediately, trying to hide my suddenly burning cheeks and the smirk I haven’t managed to knock off my face since Vance got here.
He clears his throat, and I wish I hadn’t looked away from him. I’d love to see what’s happening on his face—if I took things a step too far or if he’s as entertained as I am.
Then again, no matter how he tried to play it off, his body gave an answer long before my wondering started.
“Now, you can’t go and say something like that when I’m trying to get rid of the problem,” he says. “You will and have made it much, much worse.”
I look at him again, mighty pleased with his low-hanging jaw and hazel eyes settling south of my chin. It’s not surprising that my boobs caused his reaction , but what I don’t fully understand is how they did it. My blouse is the furthest thing from sexy, and all the buttons are done up to hide my cleavage.
Vance’s mind must have carried him to some far-off place that had me stripped of it. It’s the only thing that makes sense.
And I want to hear all about it.
“Yes, I know. Apologies, Mr. Valentine. Sometimes, my mouth runs faster than my brain.” I wink at him, feeling the smirk slip for a second into a devilish smile.
“Nothing to apologize about.” He lifts his cup of tea and eases back in his chair. “It’s that kind of go-getter attitude I love in a woman.” He sips.
“Love, you say?”
His eyes widen behind the rim of the small cup pressed against his lip. He’d speak, I’m sure, if it weren’t for the threat of hot tea spilling out of his mouth.
“What’s this about love?” Veronica asks, catching both of us off guard.
“The tea,” Vance nearly yells out behind the cup. “Delicious. Can’t get enough of it.”
“Told you.” Veronica remains standing, and my heart almost instantly shatters, realizing what it means. “Now, finish up. I don’t want you to be late for your meeting.”
“But you said. . .” Vance looks up at her, then down at me, and shakes his head in bewilderment. “Hana, it’s been a pleasure.”
He stands, and my eyes instantly travel down, but there’s no showing of what I saw a moment ago. Not that he can hide his cock even when soft. It’s like a third leg begging desperately to be set free from the confines of his pants.
“And you.” I stand and once more offer my hand to him. This time, he doesn’t shake; instead, he brings my knuckles to his lips in that old-timey way that makes my tummy float.
“I’ll see you in two weeks,” Veronica says, and the pair start walking off.
But when they reach the middle of the lobby, Vance says something to his mother before turning around and doing his best to keep from breaking into a sprint.
“Nearly forgot something important,” he says when he gets back to me.
“And what’s that?” I can almost feel his hands wrap around my lower body and pull me into a kiss.
Instead, he grabs his wallet and pulls out a business card. “Oh, you know, an offer you can’t refuse.”
“Your number?” I raise a brow, eyeing his card anxiously. He hasn’t even walked away yet, and I’m already toying with the idea of dialing it immediately.
“A spa day all of your own.” His lips curl into a naughty grin. “If you ever want someone to give you a rub down … I mean massage, give me a call.”
With a wink, he’s gone again.
And I’m left with the overwhelming urge to follow through on my impulse to dial his number right freaking now.