With his hands pressed against the small of her back, they danced cheek to cheek, very close and very personal.
-
He hasn't aspired to be a cat burglar. He'd assassinated numerous times, wrestled alligators, spent long nights in swamps just for some God damn information. But tonight, Uchiha Sasuke faced his most treacherous challenge, breaking into the home of a man that he didn't have a bloody clue about, just because of a fucking favour he had to owe a perverted man. And he was going to be up to his ass in trouble if he got caught.
He climbed cautiously from one branch to the next, each foothold steady, precise. The fernlike leaves of the tall and spreading royal Poinciana shimmered in the moonlight, camouflaging his black-clad body as he made his way toward the mansion's second story window.
Breaking and entering wasn't his forte. Hell, he hadn't even given a thought to what he was doing, but Hayate Kakashi had allowed him little choice. Apparently the reclusive billionaire he was about to do God knows what to, had refused to see Kakashi in spite of a dozen polite and maybe-not-so-polite requests.
Something about the death of his father. All Kakashi wanted was to talk to him, face to face, man to man, why he'd emptied a loaded gun into his father, twenty six years before. Seemed like a damn simple request, yet he sealed his lips on the subject the moment the police had closed their investigation all those years ago.
Fucking bastard lead Sasuke to find that information out himself. A God damn favour. His only course of action now was to go out on a limb, literally and figuratively, to find what Kakashi wanted. Ducking under a branche of feathery leaves, Sasuke placed on foot in front of the other, cautiously negotiating limbs that fought him every step of the way. The foliage rustled. Twigs splintered.
He wiped his brow with leather-gloved fingers, wishing the night wasn't so damn hot and humid, so calm and quiet. The only sound around him were the sweet strains of Mozart coming from somewhere inside the mansion.
A man could make all the noise he wanted wading through the endless sawgrass in the Glades. But silence was imperative now.
Take your time, he told himself. Don't get caught.
The window ledge jutted out of the mansion's limestone facade. At least two feet deep and four feet wide, it was the perfect platform for a six foot-three-inch man to balance on while figuring out the best way to get inside. Unfortunately the glistening remnants of late afternoon rain that had puddled up on the ledge glared at him.
If he took a flying leap, he could easily hit the water, slide right off the window edge, and end up on his butt in the prickly bougainvillea below. That would surely set off an alarm or two; then the cops would come; then he'd be dead meat.
He needed to move a few more feet out on the tapering limb and then, if his luck held out, he could latch on to the ornamental arch and swing onto the windowsill.
His heart thudded as he took another step. A bead of perspiration coursed down his temple, slipped over his jaw. The tension in his body was palpable, and his eyes and ears were on such high alert for even the smallest unwanted noise around the estate.
And then he made his move. Tearing one hand from its hold on the branch above him, he reached for the intricately carved limestone archway. His gloved hands slapped against the wall his fingers digging into the crevices.
He took a deep calming breath, he'd made it, at least to the window. He was safe, so far.
Sasuke looked around for any signs of an alarm. God knows that this billionaire had something far more sophisticated than the pretty damn cheap mail-order security system. Seeing nothing that looked remotely like wires or even laser lights protecting the window, Sasuke touched the glass gently.
He peeked inside but saw nothing but little more than darkness and a faint light shining under a door on the far side of the room. He cursed profanity. Searching in his back pocket for a tool that could do wonders when a woman's whispery voice broke through the nearly silent night.
"Bye daddy, i'll see you tomorrow okay?"
"Alright."
Sasuke craned his neck to peer around the limestone arch. The mansion was cast with shadows, but he was use to wandering through darkness, his eyes were attuned to the dark, and it took no time at all to find where the voices were coming from.
He stayed frozen on the window ledge, watching the man he was going kill, and the woman's sultry voice.
"Don't do anything you'd regret." The woman slipped her long, slim fingers onto the mans neck, embracing him in a tight hug. Waving goodbye one last time before she stepped into view.
She was beautiful. Almost ethereal, with the cloud of light surrounding her. Tall. Built to thrill. Her pink hair which was twisted into some elegant and sophisticated style on the back of her head and showed off a slender and lovely neck.
He particularly liked this woman. It wasn't just for her beauty, not to investigate her subtle curves or to unbutton her tailored white jacket to see if she wore an industrial-strength cotton bra or something lacy.
No it was more than that.
She had access to the mansion. The mansion of the soon to be dead.
Sasuke smirked in the dark. If he could get close to Daddies little girl, might just help him get into the private world. He could get his face slapped if she learned he was using her. But an open-handed wallop or even a fist smashed into his nose was a far sight better than a jail cell.
He jumped off the ledge and into the darkness of branches. It was time he pay a little visit to Daddies girl.
Haruno Sakura wasn't used to being followed, and she sure as hell didn't like the fact that a strange, obviously expensive, vehicle was dogging her trail up and down the streets, its bright lights bouncing off her rearview mirror and smacking her in the eyes.
She wasn't in the mood to play games with a stalker. She wanted to hightail it to her favorite club and have a cool drink with a friend. But the conspicious black jeep, ragtop down, roll bar thickly padded, and four big off-road lights mounted above the windshield, had appeared out of nowhere.
And even though she'd done her best to shake the too-close-for-comfort four-by-four, it was still hot on her tail ten minutes later. She zipped down the Avenue, hung a right, then a left, and another left, wondering if or when she would lose the guy, and it seemed a pretty good guess that the person tailing her was a guy.
A guy who apparently didn't want to lose her; but he obviously didn't mind being noticed. If he was a P.I. trailing her for some unknown reason, he was pretty darn lousy at his job.
Of course, she was a P.I. and she couldn't escape the man. That didn't say too much about her abilities, ethier. Reaching up, she adjusted her rearview mirror and tried to get a good look at the license plate. She couldn't make out the letters and/or numbers. Turning the mirror a tad higher , she did her best to check out the driver, but in spite of the streetlights, it was far too dark to make out any details.
Another five minutes of playing cat and mouse flew by. It didn't seem as though she could shake the Jeep or the mysery man behind the wheel without driving like a bat out of hell, and she wasn't going to do that on the streets. Besides, curiosity was getting the better of her.
What the hell did this guy want?
making one last turn onto the Avenue, Sakura pulled her Jag up to the curb in front of her usual Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday night hangout. The classy pastel pink Mediterranean exterior and the pale lime-and-white-striped awning over the entrance was a far cry from what awaited her inside.
The outside of the building was understated. Inside the place was a cacophony of music, laughter, and conversations that went on and on until the wee hours of morning. One of the two valets who'd been parking her car for the past couple of months was at the Jag's side an an instant, and opened the door.
His lime green and passionate pink satin vest, festooned with a sequined black and whtie piano keyboard that swirled across the front, over one shoulder, and down the back.
Liberace would of loved it.
His name was printed on the piano-shaped name tag he wore, but Sakura would have known him without the vest or the badge. Ruiisu took her hand and helped her out of the car.
"Good evening, Miss Haruno," Ruiisu said with a smile. "We were expecting you almost half an hour ago."
"I was tied up."
Sakura winked as she handed Ruiisu her car keys, and let him thnk whatever lascivious or not-so-lascivious thing he wanted. It was good for a P.I. to have an air of mystery wafting around her.
Noone needed to know the truth about her sex life, or lack thereof.
Sakura scrutinized the Jeep parked slyly, yet visibly, near the corner of the Avenue. Finally she was able to catch a shadoy glimpse of the driver, enough to see that his hair was dark, that it brushes against the collar of his leather jacket. He gripped the steering wheel, and his steely-eyed gaze was aimed at her face.
Instinct told her to march over to the guy and ask him straight out what the hell he was up to. But she wanted a cool drink far more than a confrontation.
Hell, maybe he was a jerk who got his jollies by intimidating women.
Well, she wasn't intimidated. At least not fully.
Sakura tucked a few crisp ones into Ruiisu's hand, thanks him, then took her merry sweet time sauntering into the club, making sure the guy in the Jeep got an eyeful.
She'd learn a long time ago that the best way to get a man to open up while being interrograted, or to show him just how much power she wielded, was to bltantly flirt. To smile slyly. To absently touch her lips with her middle finger or ring finger.
To dress with style but kept her skirts tight and no longer, no shorter than mid-thigh. jackets had to be cinched at the waist. Necklines needed to plunge just enough to reveal a hint of cleavage.
Tantalize and tease, that's how she played the game with men.
Of course, she also knew how to protect herself if the come-on proved too strong.
Sakura Haruno carried a stiletto. Better yet, she knew how to use it.
It was 10:38 when the doorman greeted her with a smile and let her into the club. The thrum of a bass guitar wrapped around her, the distinctive mix of soul, rock, funk, and jazz were pulsing through the speakers.
It made her want to dance, to let her hair down and maybe, just maybe let herself go, something she hadn't been able to do for years. She made her way across the room, which was alight with hot pink and lime green neon letters.
Some men, still dress in their Brioni and Hugo Boss suits, tossed back champagne to dull the stress of their jobs, while others flirted with their wives, their mistresses, or their wannabe lovers.
Woman paraded around the lounge in little black dresses accented with their great-grandmamma's pearls. gossiping about the day's events or who wore what to the charity ball they'd attended the night before.
It was a chance to show off, to see and be seen, or to compete with self-made millionaires and billionaires or trust fund babies to determine who could be the most uppity, obnoxious, or vulgar, or drink the most champagne without sliding under the table.
Skirting around a couple who were in a lip-locked and pelvis-rubbing on the dance floor, Sakura spotted her best friend, Yamanaka Ino, her waist length blonde hair pulled up in her trademark ponytail, waving at her from their regular black-lacquered table not far from the unoccupied grand piano that was unobstrusively tucked into a dimly lit corner of the room.
"Sorry I'm late." Sakura said, plopping down in the chair in a most unladylike fashion.
"You should be." The tiny diamond purse dangling from the platinum and diamon chain on Ino's wrist glistened in the neon lights as she wagged a hot pink swizzle stick at her friend. "I was hit on by a guy who smelled like a chimney, by another guy who had to be a hundred and seven if not older, and a drunk man slut."
With a perfectly manicured yet decidedly short pale pink fingernail, Ino pushed what looked to be a freshly ordered Lady Godiva martini across the table in Sakura's waiting hands.
"I'm serious, it all has to do with this purse, trust me, the purse will-" Ino's gaze darted across the lounge and her words came to a dead halt.
"The purse will what?"
"Forget the purse. Oh, my God Sakura, you should see what just walked in the door."
Sakura twisted in her chair. It took less than a second to see what Ino was gawking at, a tall guy whose broad shoulders nearly filled the doorway. His dark hair shimmered from the lights. He was absolutely gorgeous, with mesmerizing eyes and- "Oh, my God." The words rushed out of Sakura's mouth. "I'd completely forgotten about him."
"You know him?" Ino asked, without turning around.
"No. He followed me around town for a good fifteen minutes before I got here. In a big black jeep if you can believe that."
"Well... he does have the rugged look to him." Ino twisted around and flashed a smile at Sakura. "Any idea who he is?"
"Haven't a clue."
"Which means you don't know why he was following you."
"Exactly."
"Aren't you curious?"
"Very."
Sakura turned her attention from Ino and concentrated solely on the stranger. He stepped out of the doorway and into the lounge, staring at the crowded room with disgust and annoyance.
Sipping her martini, she studied him over the top of her glass, taking in his black T-shirt, and tan leather jacket, all that she could see over the horde of expensive designer suits and dresses.
"I have to admit, he is rather gorgeous." she said offhandedly to Ino.
"Just like your type," Ino tossed back. "He is the kind of sinful hunk I'd indulge in if I ever had the chance to take a vacation. Can't you see him stretched out on the beach in a Speedo, all bronze and buff and dusted with specks of sand, in all the right spots, of course? And" Ino fanned herself with an elegant hand. " it just so happens you've got nothing better to do thank get really close to his body so you can blow the sand off all those not-so-little spots."
"Calm down, Ino." Sakura was always the voice of reason. "We don't know the first thing about him, least of all why he was following me."
"Does it matter?"
"Of course it matters."
"Then why don't you go and ask him who he is and what he's up to?"
Sakura crossed her legs and leaned back casually in her chair. "All in good time."
Sakura wanted to study him first. Needed to really check out his reaction to the lounge. That was always a great place to analyze a person's character. If a man acted like a jerk in a bar, you could bet your last dollar he'd be a jerk ninet-nine percent of the time.
As he strolled through the room, he ignored the men who were glaring at him our of the corners of their eyes, hoping the stranger wouldn't catch on that they were gawking.
How easy it was to read their little minds. They definitely weren't thinking, This guy doesn't belong here. Oh, no. They were thinking, This guy could be a threat. If anyone can get the girls, he can.
But he didn't seem all that interested in the girls. Not that he didn't look. He just didn't ogle.
"Could I get you another drink?" the waiter asked, blocking Sakura's view. "An appetizer?"
Sakura hated to tear her concentration from the man, but an idea struck.
"Could you bring another Manhattan for my friends? And I'll take two more Lady Godiva martinis."
"Two?" Ino spun around to face Sakura. Her eyes narrowed. "You'll get drunk."
"Ignore her," Sakura said to the waiter. "But on second thought, make on of those martinis a bottle of beer."
"Any kind in particular?" the waiter asked.
"Oh, I don't know. Something strong and dark and masculine. And if there's any way you could get me those drinks in a hurry, I'd appreciate it."
"I'd be happy to."
The moment the waiter walked away, Ino confronted Sakura. "Mind telling me what you're up to?"
"You told me I should keep the goods on the guy who just walked in, and I plan to."
"What? You plan to get him drunk?"
"Maybe."
"Well, don't do anything dangerous."
Sakura smiled wryly. "I wouldn't think of it."
Ino shook her head in disbelief. "I've heard those words before."
He intrigued her, fascinated her, more than she imagined any man could.
The man could be trouble. Dangerous. She had that feeling, but she didn't know yet, she didn't know what kind of trouble she's leading herself into.
-
A/N: Don't make fun of me! I know, it's so sad! I never wrote this kind of uh...genre? xD So i'm sorry if it's very amateurish. If you like it, I'd much aperciate a review! Thanks for reading it:D