Tonight, Linc planned to get work done on the baseboards—he'd messaged earlier to let me know. Jansen, being bloody-minded, insisted on us practising through the screams of the power saw even when we could hardly hear ourselves play.
Eventually, Jude refused to go on, citing a migraine, and Jansen didn't try to argue with him.
"Same time tomorrow," he said. "We don't want more mistakes in the next recital, do we?"
He stared at me as he said that. Message received, loud and clear.
"I'll be here," I said through gritted teeth.
Linc had bits of wood stacked against the wall when I left, and I snuck him a smile. If only we didn't have to go through this stupid charade, I could go and talk to him, but while I'd risk my own position, I didn't want to jeopardise his job. He caught my eye, checked behind me for watching spies, then waggled his eyebrows and blew me a kiss before looking back at his tools as Jansen stepped out of the room.
My stomach flipped, and I had to refrain from fanning myself. How could Linc do that and act so nonchalant about it? Beyond frustrated, I stomped off, already composing a message to send to him in my head. No, not a message, a picture. Alone in the elevator, I blew my own kiss into the camera lens then sent it to him. Take that!
With the pressing business of winding Linc up out of the way, I called my driver once I got to the atrium.
"I'm afraid I'll be delayed, ma'am," he replied, and I heard the honk of a car horn in the background.
"What's happened? Are you okay?"
"Fine, ma'am, but I'm on the freeway, and there's been an accident up ahead. Traffic's at a standstill. If you prefer, I can call the control room and get them to send someone else."
"No, it's fine. I'll wait."
I was enough of a burden on Blackwood without monopolising another of their staff for the evening. Chill air from the AC washed over me as I settled onto one of the uncomfortable ornamental benches and stared at the phone screen. Should I have sent that photo? Was it too much?
"Still here?"
Linc's voice came from behind me, but when I turned, he maintained an appropriate distance. His eyes flicked to the right, and I knew why—the red eye of the watching camera blinked down at us, recording evidence of our interaction.
"My driver's stuck in traffic."
"On the freeway? I heard about a pile-up on the radio. An eighteen-wheeler jack-knifed and a bunch of cars crashed into the side of it."
"My gosh, those poor people. Was anyone badly hurt?"
"No deaths, that's what they said, but seven people got taken to the hospital."
"I hope they'll be okay." At least they weren't trapped in the wreckage. "Looks as though I'm stuck here for a while, then. And the irony is Jansen's gone home."
"How about calling a cab?"
"I don't like being around strangers." Plus, Emmy would go nuts if she found out. "I'd rather wait."
"You want me to come in the cab with you?"
"You'd do that?"
"Of course, but it'd have to pick me up farther down the block so nobody sees. Give me a second... I'll call the company I use on occasion."
A minute later, he hung up. "Well, it seems as if everyone else has had the same idea. They can't send anyone for at least half an hour, and apparently there's been a fire downtown and the city's in gridlock."
"I'd better call my nanny and let her know I'll be late. My son will already be in bed, but I don't want her to worry."
"Unless you're feeling brave?"
"Huh?"
"I've got the bike outside."
Did I dare? I should have been horrified at the thought, but instead, heat pooled in my stomach as I imagined pressing up against Linc, his butt between my thighs. He'd said before that I'd need to hold on to him, and I pictured my arms wrapped around his waist as he gunned the engine. A tremble ran through me, and it took a few seconds for me to recognise it not as fear, but lust.
Only one man had made me shiver like that before, and a wave of guilt washed over me, extinguishing the heat. Even though he'd died, I still felt loyalty towards him, and what would people say if they knew I had feelings for somebody else?
I frowned, trying to sort out my thoughts. Hisashi's father was a memory now, whereas Linc was very real and standing in front of me, waiting for an answer.
His eyes got me. Even from ten metres away, they sucked me into their depths. "Could you give me a ride?"
"You sure?" he asked softly.
"I'm scared," I whispered. "But I still need to do this."
"I'll go and get my extra helmet. Meet me on the sidewalk to the right of the main entrance in ten minutes. The cameras only cover the left side."
"Okay."
"And Akari?"
"Yes?"
"You can give me the real-life version of that picture you sent before you go home tonight."
Ten minutes, and I spent it pacing the tiles like a madwoman. Had I gone crazy? I'd agreed to sit on the back of a death trap, and all because my fingers wanted to feel Linc's muscles. I'd gone undeniably mad. Completely psycho. But did he have a six-pack?
When the time was up, I fidgeted in the darkness at the appointed spot until I heard the roar of a powerful engine coming from the parking lot, and a few seconds later Linc drew up alongside me and put his feet down. The sporty bike was bright red with Ducati stencilled along the side.
"You ready?"
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak. He passed me a helmet, which came up a tiny bit big, but he helped me to fasten the strap under my chin and pronounced it would do.
"I'm not planning on going fast, not with you on the back. Where do you live?"
I told him, then asked, "How do I get on?"
"Just swing your leg over the back. I'll hold the bike steady."
A simple hop, and Linc's luscious cheeks nestled between my thighs. I reached gingerly around his waist and clasped my hands in front of his stomach, waiting. Oh yeah, he did have that six-pack I'd been wondering about. Maybe even an eight-pack.
"Okay?"
"I think so."
He took that to mean yes and started the engine. Vibrations. I hadn't even thought of the vibrations. They shot through my core where I perched on the leather seat, acting as a touch-paper to my libido. Before I could calm myself down, Linc shot off and my arms tightened around him involuntarily.
Wind whipped through my hair as we flew through the streets, and I may have shrieked a little. When we pulled up at the first stoplight, Linc put one hand over both of mine, clasping them against his stomach.
"Having fun?"
"I'm not sure if fun's the right word for it."
"You want to stop?"
"No."
More than anything, I'd missed this closeness, this contact with another human being. Even though there were several layers of clothing between us, I felt a connection I couldn't explain. Arms rigid, I clung to Linc for the rest of the ride until all too soon, we arrived at my home. Between the throb of the engine and the ripple of Linc's muscles, I was consumed with unfulfilled need, like being stuck on a precipice I wanted to jump off, but with feet that refused to move.
"We're here," he announced.
"I think my legs have stopped working."
He laughed as he put the bike on its stand, then hopped off and lifted me to the ground. If it wasn't for his arm around my waist, holding me steady, I'd have buckled to the concrete.
"I'm proud of you. You only screamed four times."
Yes, once at the start, twice when Linc overtook other vehicles, and once when I had a mini-orgasm in the fast lane. I'd never admit to that last one, though.
"I had fun."
He pulled his helmet off then helped me out of mine. "Good. I want to hear those words from you more often."
"You will."
Linc swung his leg back over the saddle, and I held my breath as he reached out to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear.
"Goodnight, sweetheart."
"Goodnight, Linc."
I turned to go inside, distinctly lacking in enthusiasm. But I could hardly stand out on the sidewalk all night, could I?
"Hey!"
"What?"
"Are you forgetting the photo?"
I bent forward, puckered up, and blew him a kiss. "See you tomorrow."
Hell, I'd turned into a wanton woman, and what's more, I enjoyed it. Seeing Linc's smile and feeling happier than I had in years, I jogged into the apartment building, wondering what my dreams would bring tonight.