But her eyes! She looked at everything as if it was exciting. Curiosity flickered through them, glimmers of innocence wanting to learn more. They were a startling blue, like the sky on a bright summer's day, but he felt like they might cloud up and hide her true feelings if he so much as breathed the wrong way, sent forth a bad gust of wind. And her hands, timid, but wanting. The way she held her chopsticks when she reached for a strip of chicken kara age, slow and unsure, with a tilt of her head as she looked his way. He wanted to nod, say yes, it's delicious and I think you'll love it. He wanted to pick the meat up in his fingers and lean towards her, close, placing it lightly in her mouth, feeding her the morsel, letting her chew and swallow it before kissing the remnants off her pink, delicate lips.
That was too much, though. If he scared her, worried her, he didn't think he'd have another chance. He wanted to squeeze her, grab her, demand things from her. He wanted to lay her down on the bench right then and there and rip off her clothes and press his warm mouth against every part of her body.
He wanted her to be her, but he wanted her to be his, too.
And so, without thinking, the urge overriding the logical part of his brain, he'd asked her to model for his photography hobby. She agreed. She agreed! This startled him somewhat, but he wasn't entirely surprised. Except now what?
He needed to tone this down, to lighten the mood and keep all intimate thoughts at bay. This would be strictly an enjoyable pastime where he showed her a few things about taking pictures and modeling. And that was it. No more.
He had a wife, he knew that, and this was some odd, mild fascination with an interesting woman. Nothing more or less than that, and in time it would pass.
…
I had taken a taxi to the restaurant since I didn't own a car; it was easier to travel in the city without one most of the time. A lack of parking spots, or traffic issues, or any other numerous problems could and did happen on a daily basis, making owning a car more of a luxury than a necessity here. I liked not having a car, anyways. Sometimes it was nice to imagine it as freedom. With cars I was stuck on city roads, but walking, or a taxi, or the subway could bring me almost anywhere.
I didn't know if Lucas agreed with that, but he had a car of sorts. He drove, he said, sometimes, but he had a man who drove him around most of the time. Especially now as we'd both been drinking, so it obviously wasn't safe for either of us to drive.
We stepped out of the restaurant, a little tipsy, after Lucas paid the waiter for our meal. The food was as delicious as I imagined—probably better—but the price!
"Did you really just pay three hundred dollars for our lunch?" I asked him after sneaking a peek at the bill.
Lucas shrugged, nonchalant. "They included the tip in the bill," he said.
He held my arm in his as we walked down the street towards his car. I felt nice then, sophisticated. Lucas was a gentleman, if nothing else, and he more than acted the part. His free hand reached across the front of his torso towards where my arm held onto his and he placed his fingers on my hand in a silent gesture.
Safe, it said. You're safe, don't worry. Safe and mine. I wanted to think the last part was at least somewhat true, but I knew it couldn't be. We'd discussed this before leaving.
"We need to stop this," he had said. "You're an attractive woman, but I'm married, and—"
Yes. It didn't really matter what he said, but I understood it. I completely agreed with him no matter how much I didn't want to.
The bright, noontime sun shone down on us as we turned the corner. People passed us by on the streets, barely giving us a second glance. Did they think we were a couple? I wondered about that. We might look somewhat like it. I eased closer to him, tried to relax and act as if we'd known each other for longer than a couple of days. Relaxed, friendly, intimate, close.
I tilted my head, just a little bit, and rested the side of my forehead on his shoulder. He smiled and looked over at me. If I moved my face up, turned my chin just so, I could have snuck in for a quick kiss.
"Are you alright?" he asked, concerned.
"Yes," I said. "I'm just a little tired. The sake, maybe."
I wasn't tired, not at all. The alcohol was doing some things, but that wasn't the reason I had my head on his shoulder. It made a wonderful excuse, though.
We stopped in front of a black car with tinted windows. As soon as Lucas approached, I heard the click of a door unlocking. Lucas reached for the door handle, pulled on it, and swept open the door for me. Reluctantly, I let go of his arm and stepped into the car.
The back seat was bigger than it looked from the outside. I sat on the plush leather and shimmied over to give Lucas room to come in, too. Stretching my legs out as far as they could go, I still had a few more inches before my toes would touch the back of the drivers seat. Lucas grinned and slipped in beside me.
"Where to, boss?" the man in the driver's seat asked.
"Home, Jeremy," Lucas said. "To the guest house, though. Amira and I have private business arrangements to discuss, so I'd rather not go to the main house for now."
"Sure thing. Not a problem," Henry said.
Lucas nodded, the car started, and we were off. That was that, and I expected a typical ride to wherever we were off to, except Lucas had other things in mind. Touching a switch on the hand rest next to him, a piece of dark, thick glass rose up from behind the front seats and blocked my view of the road in front of us. Presumably it blocked Jeremy's view of us, too. Lucas confirmed as much.