Chapter 4 Japan

AMBER'S POV

By the time we landed in Japan, it was after midnight their time. I stretched myself a bit as the flight attendant gathered my things, and I walked behind Simoun to disembark the jet. There was a car already waiting for us, blacked out and sleek as the night sky of Japan back dropped the airport we had descended into. I still felt groggy from the flight, but with each step I took toward the car, I grew excited.

Awake. Alert. I hadn't been in Japan since my days at boarding school in China and I couldn't wait to take in all the familiar sights and smells.

I missed my former life. It enabled me to travel the world in first class at the drop of a hat. I missed having my father around. I missed indulging my sweet tooth with him. I missed watching him and my mother kiss under the Cherry blossoms tree while I'm eating my favorite sushi.

Now, I was lucky if I didn't have to fly coach.

Being on Simoun's private jet was decadent, much like the life I used to live. I hauled my things into the back of the car, watching as he bypassed me with his nose in his phone. Well, I guess I didn't need to expect a gentlemanly demeanor from him during the week. I shut the trunk and slid in beside him, trying to keep up my poise while containing my excitement.

Simoun didn't strike me as the type of man to get excited about anything.

Without a word uttered between anyone, the driver pulled off the tarmac. We traveled through streets I recognized and rushed by shops I used to shop in as a little girl. I smiled as I peered out the window at the darkened world behind the tinted windows of the SUV The partition was rolled down, and Simoun was typing away on his phone, doing whatever it was he did.

I ran through some of the information he had fed me on the plane about himself, trying to piece together who this man might be. I needed to be able to talk intelligently about him and act as if we were in love. If I'd read the file right, I was acting as his supposed fiancée. That came with an entirely different set of parameters for how I needed to address him, appear around him, and act with him.

But I didn't have much to go on. Even after a nine-hour plane ride.

The car pulled into a very old, very expensive hotel I recognized immediately: Amanemu-ishe-shima National Park. I contained my excitement as it bubbled in my gut. I'd only been to this hotel once, and it was by far the best stay I'd ever had in the country.

And even though Simoun was quiet and removed, he really was a looker.

I stole a glance at him as he started talking to the driver.

He had dark blond hair swooped meticulously to the side. He was tall, with long legs that sprawled out and comfortably occupied the space he demanded as his own. His suits were tailored to his body, allowing my eyes a peek of the lean muscle he had underneath the layers of expensive fabrics. He had on thick-framed glasses that hid his emerald-green eyes, and his long, dexterous fingers continuously rolled over his phone screen. His hands were large, his legs were strong, and his wingspan was easily double mine. His jawline looked as if it had been chiseled from marble, and his pouty lower lip jutted out whenever he was deep in concentration.

Maybe making some bonus cash with him wouldn't be as distasteful as it usually was.

I enjoyed sex.

I was an independent woman at the prime of her life. I loved it, actually. I loved experimenting with it and sweating during it. I enjoyed the sounds and the tastes and the memories it created. I considered myself a strong, independent woman, one who owned up to her faculties in life and never once shied away from things many men traditionally expected a woman of my stature to shy away from. But that didn't mean having to pretend to be aroused with random rich men who wanted what they could pay for was enjoyable. In fact, it was the exact opposite And in a lot of ways, it had spoiled sex for me.

After my first three encounters with men who wanted nothing more than to do with me as they wished, I went the other route with my temporary career. Straight arm candy, and nothing else. I enjoyed that line of work. I enjoyed clients who wanted me to be charming, intelligent, and well-mannered without all of the other stuff that came along with the reputation of a "call girl." Of the three men I'd been with throughout my career, they had one equal complaint: that it didn't seem as if I was enjoying myself. And I hadn't. I couldn't. Sex was something to be enjoyed only when one's heart was in it.

And rich men who had diaper fetishes didn't trip my trigger the way it did theirs.

Then again, I was a call girl. So why should my heart be in it? I let out a silent sigh as Simoun climbed out of the car. If he had addressed me, I'd been too deep in my thoughts to notice. I slipped out of the car and pressed my heels into the ground, then wrapped around to the trunk and grabbed my things out of the back.

The driver was grabbing his things, and I had half a mind to tell 'Simoun darling, get your shit here.'

The penthouse suite of the hotel was gorgeous, quite unlike what I remembered from my childhood. Everything had been updated. The walls had been painted a gorgeous cream color-much better than the brown they used to be. The furniture was all new. That terrible leather was gone, and it had been replaced with a microfiber that felt almost like silk. I looked around the room and smiled. Part of me wanted to regale Simoun with the memories I had of this place.

And part of me wanted to go to my room and put space between us.

"I'm going to work for a few hours, then turn in early. If you want, you can order room service. Just charge it to the room. The bar, the fridge, the snack bar-all of it you can use. The spa services as well. I want you to use those. You'll need to be relaxed and look your best this week."

"Of course," I said. "I wouldn't have it any other way. I am very eager to try the tub in the bathroom, however, so I'll make sure to keep it down."

Simoun flickered his gaze up from his phone before he turned his back on me. Without another word, he dipped for his bag and made his way into his room. That man really had a stick up his ass. I rolled my things into my bedroom and headed straight for the bathroom, pouring an insane amount of bubbles into the hot water I had running. The tub was carved deep, made specifically for those with longer legs, like myself. The marble was beautiful, and I stroked it with my fingertips. The feel of luxury underneath my toes was something I'd missed. It reminded me of a time when I was happier. A time when my family was whole.

A time when my life felt complete and not like the chaotic disaster it had become.

I placed my folded clothes into a chair in the corner of the bathroom. Then, I slipped myself underneath the bubbles. They popped along my skin as the hot water took over, and my muscles relaxed with each second that passed. I ran my foot up my smooth leg, sighing as I leaned back.

I tried to ignore the throbbing between my legs as I closed my eyes.

Simoun was good-looking. And obviously, my body thought so as well. I leaned my head back and allowed the water to soak the tendrils of my hair. The bathroom filled with the scent of rose petals, and I smoothed the bubbles over my skin, cleaning myself of that long flight and the grogginess that still lingered upon my mind.

Then, my stomach let out the loudest growl I'd ever heard in my life.

Despite the finger foods I'd had on the jet, my stomach still roared for more. So much for a long, hot bath. I slipped from the bubbles and unplugged the tub, then reached for the fluffy robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door. I wrapped myself up in its warmth and sighed. I closed my eyes and imagined the arms of my father enveloping me in their comfort. Tears rushed to the back of my eyes, and I shook them away, setting my sights on food. I needed food, not to be stuck in my past.

I headed out of my bedroom and made my way into the living room. I picked up the phone on the table and dialed the kitchen, then ordered a miniature feast fit for a queen: matsutake mushroom, a shrimp cocktail, kujira, a bottle of red wine, ruby roman grapes, and a matcha cake for dessert. I set the phone down and made my way to the couch, falling down onto it, my robe running up my legs. I sighed as

I sank into its softness. It cradled me like a cloud as I propped my heels onto the arm of it. I reached down and wiped away a small trail of bubbles that led up the outside of my thigh, the sensation causing me to giggle. My robe fell down my body even more, exposing my damp skin to the air-conditioning of the room.

Goose bumps puckered against my legs as I reached for the blanket tossed over the back of the couch.

Then, a small movement caught the corner of my eye.