Chapter Nine

Not That Big Bad of a Wolf

Disclaimer: I don't own CCS.

The Diamond Palace hotel soared above Sakura, its incredible height stretching into the clouds, making her feel as tiny and insignificant as a speck of dust; and, to all the men and women swirling around her in blazes of opulence, she might as well have been. Red soles, white smiles, genuine fur coats, tailored suits, glossy hair - even the air reeked of the filthy-sweet stench of money. Surrounding the building were other high-rise luxury hotels, but the ultra-modern and elegant design of the building and the way it seemed to dazzle in the daylight made Sakura think it was the prettiest one around.

She walked through the large glass doors which were opened wide by two doormen, dressed impeccably in their red and black uniforms. They greeted her with pleasant smiles and formal, warm tones. Her heels clicked loudly on the tile flooring and she winced apologetically to her surroundings. Was anyone else hearing that clack, clack, clack?

Sakura hurried to a large, glass stone counter. A man, whom she assumed was the concierge, was standing behind it. Holding her small handbag closer to her frame, she waited for him to finish speaking to an old lady who was carrying a white Bichon Frisé beneath her arm. The dog was wagging its tail wildly and looked about ready to launch itself at Sakura with every intention of escaping the person who would condemn him to a heavy, gold collar and pressed tuxedo jacket.

"Good morning, Miss," the concierge said to her after the lady walked away, nose stuck proudly in the air. "How may I be of service today?"

"H-hello," she said. "I'm Ki- Sakamoto Ayame. I'm here to see Li Syaoran."

The concierge smiled.

"Li-sama informed us he would be receiving a visitor today. Please take the elevator on the left and the bellhop will take you straight to his penthouse suite."

"Thank you."

"You are most welcome. Please, enjoy your visit to the Diamond Palace."

Just as she got to the elevator, two gentlemen exited. She stepped in and the bellhop gave the most respectful bow she had ever seen.

"What floor are you going to Miss?"

"Ano… the penthouse suite."

"Then you must be Li-sama's guest."

She nodded in mild amazement.

"I am."

The bellhop pulled out a key-card and swiped it before punching in the number 46 - the highest number - on the elevator key pad. Seeing her eyeing him curiously, he said, "All floors 40 through 46 require a key-card. For security purposes."

"Oh," said Sakura. "Of course. Thank you for explaining."

It was a long way up but the ride was smooth and fast. As the numbers on the elevator display steadily increased, Sakura's body started to tremble and her stomach churned. What if Syaoran wanted to make out as soon as she arrived? Would she be able to go through with that? The slightest tremour of excitement ran through her toes though, and she knew that there was a part of her that wanted to have contact with him. But rich, young guys like him must be players right?

She drew a deep breath and exhaled. She did not want anything serious to happen between them, something that she would regret and yet, she was not sure if she would be able to resist his advances if he made any. Why oh why did he have to be so attractive? She thought back to Eriol's words about him being a nice guy.

Please let him be nice today.

"Are you feeling well, Miss?" asked the bellboy.

"Hai," she murmured, her gazed fixed on the changing elevator numbers.

Finally, number 46 appeared and the elevator chimed open.

"Straight down on your left Miss," said the bellboy.

Sakura nodded and he went back down, taking her only means of escape with him. Then she remembered, if things got that bad there were always the windows. She checked her watch.

9:55 am.

She was on time so Syaoran had no excuse to be all terse with her. When she came face to face with the door to his suite however, she could not bring herself to press the buzzer. You will let him kiss you on the lips if he wishes, hug you if he wishes, caress and pet you if he wishes. That was what Satomi had said. Did that mean that once she entered Syaoran's place, her body was no longer hers? Was she supposed to submit to his whims completely?

She checked her watch again.

10:01 am.

It would not do to annoy him considering the circumstances. Before she could think more about what they were going to be doing that day, she pressed the buzzer and waited.

Mere seconds later, the door swung open and she was staring into all-consuming brown eyes. Instantaneously, she felt a tug behind her navel pulling her to Syaoran but she kept her feet firmly rooted in place. He had his cell phone to his ear and he was looking down at her, his face almost void of all emotion save a little exasperation. Sakura was about to apologize for being a minute late when he turned and walked farther back into the penthouse.

His presence was so strong, it lingered, and it took Sakura a while to process that he was no longer barring her from entering. Warily, she stepped inside and closed the door behind her, hearing the automatic lock click shut. Resigning herself to her fate, she slipped off her heels and moved from the grand foyer to the living room. The first thing she noticed about the penthouse was the inordinate amount of natural light pouring through the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. She had a panoramic view of Tokyo city and for a moment she felt disoriented seeing how high up she stood.

The suite was spotless and orderly. Syaoran must have housekeepers but nothing seemed out of place. It was like walking into an interior design magazine. It was very open-concept with the kitchen and dining room being visible from where she stood, though they seemed to be a football field away.

But the atmosphere in the apartment was anything but distant. It was decorated in a timeless aesthetic, with traditional, modern and classic furniture pieces intertwined seamlessly into something fresh and yet familiar. There were large crystal chandeliers hanging from the ceilings, beautiful paintings of varying kinds hanging from the pearly white walls which were carved with intricate mouldings and architectural details that would make the most skilled architect weep in joy. There were even a few Greek column pedestals situated about the rooms, with charming busts and vases atop them.

All in all, it was what you would expect from someone with money - total and unrestrained luxury and eclecticism. Everything smelled new and clean and Sakura could already see herself spilling red wine on that light-grey Persian rug that anchored all the stunning pieces in the living room. She crossed two fingers behind her. Only white wine if offered, she promised herself.

Coming back to the moment at the sound of Syaoran's brusque voice, she ventured farther into the suite. He was standing behind a massive kitchen island. He held up one of those absurdly expensive bottles of water to her and shook it.

Sakura approached him.

"Yes, thank you," she answered, easily heard in the otherwise quiet apartment.

Nothing was on. No TV. Not even a radio. It was like being in a library and in fact, the living room she had been in contained floor-to-ceiling shelves of books and collector's items.

Still talking on the phone in his native tongue, Syaoran reached up in the cupboards for a glass and poured the water for her. He gently slid it across the island and she took it, grateful for the kind hospitality. So far.

Uncorking one for himself, he drank from the bottle as he listened to the person on the other side of the phone, his unfettering gaze on her the entire length of the conversation. She sat on one of the cushioned stools at the island, rest her bag on another and waited, conscious that her every movement was under scrutiny. She was becoming used to it when she realized Syaoran was wrapping up the call. And that was when her heart began an erratic rhythm.

"Zài Jiàn," said Syaoran into the phone, and Sakura, even in her anxious state, found she liked the way goodbye sounded in Cantonese, when he said it in his deep, masculine voice that was so hot it could melt iron.

He rest the phone on the island and took a long drink, finishing off his water. Depositing the glass bottles in a recycling bin he had pulled out from what she had thought was a cabinet drawer, he stood directly opposite her, his attention fixed.

"Courtesan," he breathed.

He had never looked more smug.

She bowed her head in greeting, her heart thundering against her chest.

"Li-san."

No matter how casual he dressed, like now in his black slacks and white t-shirt, Li Syaoran was a force to be reckoned with.

A full minute ticked by on the clock above the microwave.

"You're going to break that glass if you're not careful."

Sakura looked down at her fingers clutching tight to the glass, her knuckles white. Immediately, she released it and held her shaking hands on her lap.

Unlike her, Syaoran did not appear nervous. His eyes indulgently scanned the length of her body he could see. He moved to stand beside her, no doubt to get a better view. He was so close she could smell the crisp, fabric softener scent on his clothes.

"See what I told you about contradicting words and actions?" he said. "Before you only did public dates and now, you're here. In private. What do you have to say for yourself?"

His cell phone started ringing and Sakura was spared from answering because Syaoran was already picking it up.

"Turn on the television if you like," he said to her. He gestured to a room to her right, similar in design to the living room. "I have work to do. If you get hungry, you can help yourself to whatever's in the fridge or you can order room service. The number is on the menu in that drawer behind you."

With that, he walked out of the kitchen and disappeared down a hallway, most likely to his home office. Sakura finished her water, washed the glass and placed it back in the cupboard. She went into the less formal of the living rooms and turned on the large plasma screen.

She only got up to take some fruit from the fridge. Syaoran passed by the living room a few times but he was always on his phone. He would watch her from the kitchen, making her rigid, then, in a blink, he would quietly slip back down the hallway to his office. Five hours had elapsed and she was still watching television alone. She was beginning to feel very tired sitting up straight and it was taking a lot of control to not lie down on the couch, which was very wide and comfy.

She was so absorbed in the Top 50 Sexiest Singers special that was airing, that she did not realize Syaoran standing against a wall, staring at her. It was only when it went to commercial and her eyes glanced across the suite, admiring it for the hundredth time, that she almost had a heart attack. How long had he been there?

He crossed the room and sat down in one of the grey single chairs surrounding the television. Every muscle in Sakura's body went rigid. There was no phone in his hand. The girl on the TV screen introduced number 30 of the Sexiest Singers. Syaoran apathetically watched the six-pack abs of the male rockstar, his expression screaming that he was unimpressed. Looking at his t-shirt, Sakura tried to picture what lay beneath. She barely had time to be properly ashamed of her thoughts as his scary, thrilling gaze returned to her.

"Are you finished with your work, Li-san?" she asked, voice higher than usual.

His eyes drifted south from her face.

"No."

"Well why did you send for me?" she asked. Quickly, she added,"If you're busy, I mean. I don't want to disturb you."

"You're not disturbing me."

She squinted.

"But isn't this a waste of money Li-san? You can't possibly spend a lot of time with me if you're busy."

"Let me worry about my finances, courtesan."

She nodded.

"I didn't mean to insult your ability to pay or anything. I can be frugal about certain things. And twelve hours is such a long time. Your request was so sudden. And Satomi-san took away all my other... well some of them were really depending on me for certain events. It makes me feel terrible to disappoint-"

Sakura broke off her rambling. Syaoran's stare was glacial.

"You prefer to have your other clients rather than be mine, exclusively?"

Sakura's brain was numbing so fast she did not even think to give the desired response.

"Well I've grown attached to some of them and they're like friends."

She was thinking of the old man Koshiro who had told her she made him feel young again, and Shoji who found it easier to socialise with others when she was beside him.

"Friends." Syaoran said the word like it was dirty. "That's how you think of them?"

It was a rhetorical question and Sakura prayed he would move on soon.

"You're mine now," he said with such conviction, it spread a heat deep into her belly, tickling her insides. "You only have to be my companion. My friend."

She was shocked to hear herself say, "You mean for the next two weeks."

Syaoran cocked his head to the side ruminatively, not saying a word.

"I asked you a question earlier," he said, after some time. "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Sakura averted her eyes.

"I... I can change my mind about what I want my job to entail."

"Is that so?"

The corners of his lips twitched fleetingly, and his eyes narrowed like he was plotting something. Should she be afraid? She watched, stricken, as he rest his hands on the arms of the chair and pushed himself to his feet. Sitting beside her, he angled his body in her direction and she lowered her head, suddenly, incredibly shy.

Her breath locked in her throat as she followed the path of Syaoran's hand, reaching out to her knee. He leaned forward and she could feel his body heat against her skin. Their gazes made contact and both of them paused all movement, their faces dangerously close. Just as it looked like he was going to touch her, his hand passed her legs and grabbed the remote on the couch beside her. Sakura shut her eyes briefly, waves of relief and disappointment crashing over her.

Syaoran lowered the volume on the television and rest the remote on the glass coffee table.

He leaned back on the couch.

"Why aren't you talking?" he asked her, that bass in his voice threatening to make her swoon.

"I don't know what to say," she said.

"Think of something."

"Um... I, well..." She sighed softly. "My mind's blank. I'm sorry."

"Why's your mind blank?" asked Syaoran. "I thought being a companion was your job. I thought you knew exactly what you're doing. Your mind shouldn't be blank. I demand to be entertained."

The way he spoke, you knew he was a leader, born and bred. He spoke with an authority that made Sakura fearful because she found herself wanting to let everything go and obey his every command - which was crazy! He was always so sure. So self-confident. It was inspiring. It was like being in the presence of a prince. And was it not every girl's dream at one point to be a princess?

"My mind's blank," said Sakura, slowly. "Because I'm a little on edge. But I'll get over it soon. I know I'm being silly."

"What has you on edge?" asked Syaoran.

"This Indulgence package," she explained, averting her eyes. "It has me on edge."

"Why?"

"You want to do a lot," said Sakura. "I don't think I mind kissing or hugging but the other things… they're a bit much for me." She wrapped her arms around herself. "Do you really need to do those things? Do you really need me to do... things... to you?"

Syaoran stiffened.

"Excuse me?" Then he shook his head, like he was coming to a realisation. "Do you think I asked to be able to touch you in those ways?"

"Well… yes."

Syaoran's brows raised.

"When I called Matsushita, all I asked was for you to be able to come over here. She offered me more and I accepted."

"Oh." Sakura gulped, horrified at her mistake. "I'm sorry! I thought-"

"You thought that you're so irresistible I just had to have my way with you." He glowered at her. "You really think you're something special, don't you? I already told you I choose you when I'm bored. On a regular day, when I have more time, you wouldn't even be a last option."

He got to his feet and Sakura blanched, knowing he was going to say something even more unkind because he was quite capable of it.

"Let's be clear about this," continued Syaoran, voice irate. "Matsushita offered me something which means, by you being here, you did too. I will have what I paid for."

Sakura shrank on the couch.

"I didn't say I wouldn't do those things Li-san. I'll do what I have to do to fulfil the deal. I'll do it all."

Syaoran was quite formidable, glaring down at her the way he was, shoulder's taut, back straight. Sakura, in a fit of panic wondered if he would strike her. The penthouse phone rang and he turned on his heels and headed back into his office. Sakura fell weakly against the couch. Of all the messes she had ever ended up in, this one took the gold.


Syaoran finished his call and reclined in his office chair. He gazed around the room thinking about the girl sitting on his living room couch. Why did he even bother having her over? Part of it was to prove a point he supposed but, if he could let go of some of his pride, he could admit that part of him thought, when Matsushita suggested the Indulgence package, that the courtesan would be open to doing those things with him; that perhaps, she desired him in some way.

Syaoran cracked his neck, trying to loosen out the tension within him.

Did the courtesan not think about him as frequently as he thought about her? He had expected her to be more willing and assertive like she was in his head. He did not expect a wild, uninhibited freak but the way she had wrapped her hands around herself made it seem like he repulsed her.

He crossed his arms on his desk.

She let other men kiss and touch her all the time but she did not think she would mind him doing so? He ground his molars together, a sour taste in his mouth. Did she like Yamada Shoji and those other men more? Why did he even care? Damn girl. Did he imagine those times she had blushed when he had looked at her? Was he so fucking aroused in her presence that he was projecting his own feelings onto her? Feelings she did not have at all?

He glared at the laptop on his desk. That thought - that she felt nothing for him while he was aching for her body - was intolerable. It was demeaning. Did she come here just to make the money then? Would she just passively sit there and let him do what he wanted to her because she wanted to get paid? Sure that was her job but it was also supposed to be her job to not make him feel like he was paying for it.

Without a second thought, Syaoran strode back into the living room to avenge his ego she had so sorely bruised. All movement ceased when she caught sight of him and if he was not mistaken, she was no longer breathing. The way she diminished before his eyes made a light go on in his head. Any woman would be cautious and tense when she was in a locked apartment with a man she barely knew. And he had told the courtesan about how men wanted to use her. He was bigger than her, stronger than her, he could easily subdue her. Was it a surprise she was less than happy to allow him a great deal of access to her body? And he had come to realise that she was a pawn on Matsushita's chessboard, so obviously she was coerced into this to some extent.

He reconsidered all the harsh words he had for her. Honestly, he wanted a pleasant two weeks. He had liked going out with her and he wanted to mimic those times in convenience. He had told himself there would be no touching and kissing anyway. So he should not be upset she did not really want to do that. He should be glad they were on the same page.

"By now you must realise I was right about Matsushita's plans for you," he said.

There was no response. Only a small droop of her shoulders.

"Why don't you quit?" he asked her. "Are you one of those people who insist on learning the hard way?"

She curved the hem of her skirt over her knees, her eyes turning to the television screen.

"It's not that simple," she said, half to him, half to herself.

"You're a courtesan," said Syaoran. "Not a member of the yakuza."

"I made a commitment."

"Look at me."

She did. And he was momentarily rendered speechless because she was so… he gave himself a mental shake. She was so stupid. Unbelievably so.

"You don't have to be here if you don't want to," said Syaoran. "I can cancel this arrangement."

She perked up in shock.

"But you already paid!"

"I know," he said, and he felt a pang in his gut, seeing how tentatively delighted she looked. She really did not want to be there with him. She had been so affectionate and adoring with Yamada Shoji. Why could she not be the same way with him? He had told her to forget his past offensive remarks and behaviour. Was that impossible for her?

"I don't want to upset Satomi-san," she muttered.

Syaoran took a step forward, watching her face astutely for a lie.

"Is she threatening you?"

She shook her head.

"She's not! I agreed to work with her for one year. That's what I'm going to do."

Syaoran's suspicions started to grow. She was trying to act casual but he could see something was weighing on her mind.

"Besides that non-disclosure agreement," he said, fully aware that he was probing too deep. "Did you sign anything else for Matsushita?"

"Like what?" she asked, voice light.

He pursed his lips. This girl was really starting to test his patience. Here he stood, trying to dish out free advice and guidance again and there she sat, not listening. Some people really just liked to bathe in their own failures and mistakes without trying to find a way to fix them. Whatever became of her, it would be because she chose it. In the end, he would definitely say, 'I told you so.'

There was no way this date with her was going to get any better that day so Syaoran saw no need to prolong the awkwardness. If he made a show of goodwill, perhaps tomorrow will be closer to what he wanted. After growing up around as many women as he did, he knew a trick or two for softening them up. Not that the courtesan needed much softening up. He would happily lie back and let her glide that smooth body of hers up and down his any day of the week.

The courtesan's back went rigid and her head shot up. Shit, thought Syaoran, snapping out of the beginning of a magnificent daydream. Could she read minds? Her cheeks were pink and for a split, crazy second he thought she could. He ran a shaky hand through his hair. He needed to get her away from him. He could feel a desire growing inside him, one that made him unable to think about anything but immediate gratification, which could only be summed up as an image of the courtesan falling naked into his bed.

How much would be pay to see her naked?

Fuck Xiao Lang. First you want her to wise up but now you want her to work so you can satisfy your erotic needs?

Summoning his strength to not make his dreams a reality, he focused on the television screen.

"There's a spa in the building," he said. "Two actually. Would you like me to call one of them? Let them know you're coming down?"

"What?"

He glanced at her from the corner of his eyes.

"I'm going to be busier than I thought," he told her. "You can stay here and watch the television or you can enjoy a few hours at the spa. My treat."

"But you're already paying-"

"As I said before, let me worry about my finances."

He saw her thinking hard like it was an exam. Did she think he would want something extra for the spa treat? It was truly aggravating that she saw him as some kind of lecherous guy but considering the circumstances, he could hardly blame her.

"If you really don't mind," she said. "I would like that."

Wordlessly, he went to his office and called the concierge to have it arranged for her. When he walked back into the living room, she got to her feet, her small handbag clutched tight to her person. Would she ever relax?

"I selected a four-hour session for you."

"Four hours?!" she exclaimed. "Are you sure? You really shouldn't. You've already-"

He gave her a pointed look and she lowered her head.

"Thank you."

"Did you eat anything?"

"Not yet."

"You can eat lunch in any of the hotel's restaurants," he told her. "Remember to tell them you're my guest."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes."

The look of absolute wonder and gratitude that lit up her face flooded Syaoran's mind, emptying it of all reason. He liked this. Impressing her. Giving her a treat she did not expect. If only she was open to him giving her more. He would give her more again and again and again. In any position she liked.

He fisted his hands tight.

Behave, Xiao Lang.

"And after you're finished," he told her. "You can leave."

She checked the time on her watch.

"But-" She paused. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No. It will be after eight when you're done with everything. Women shouldn't be out by themselves late at night. You can leave early."

"Really? Thank you so much!"

She got a look of bliss on her face, like she had died and gone to heaven. Syaoran's cheeks warmed. That was his doing and he did not feel bad this time. He was proud he could make her smile. She had a genuine and pretty one too. He opened the front door for her and watched in mild fascination as she buckled the straps of her high heels. When she was so near it was a feat to keep his gaze off of her, to not want to feel her. When she did things it was not as rushed as he was accustomed to people doing things. She was always careful with things, her bag, her shoes, his sunglasses as she placed them in her handbag, like she was afraid her touch would destroy them.

"Thank you again for everything," she said to him as she got up.

She made to go out the door and Syaoran did not know why it happened, but his hand shot out and gripped her around the wrist. Tiny bursts of energy ricocheted through his insides; and, from the way her green eyes went wide, she may have felt that too.

"Same time tomorrow," he told her, needlessly.

"Okay," she said, voice airy.

Neither moved. Syaoran felt like every nerve ending in his body was firing. He wanted to do so many things to this girl but he would never go that far. He would content himself with platonic touches and fantasies. He was not a single man. She was a courtesan.

Yet, his hand glided up her forearm, curled around her elbow and moved up to her shoulder. He rubbed the edge of it with his thumb absent-mindedly as he devoured the sight of her succulent lips. Damn. The amount of stimulation he was receiving from watching was unreal and all that did, was make him want to do more. Their faces were drifting closer. He could smell a faint trace of her fruity perfume. The air was growing hot and his insides were trembling with want. Maybe, just a little taste would not hurt. In ancient Rome people kissed on the lips to solidify contracts all the time. It was all right. He was just going to seal the deal.

"Li-san...?" she whispered, her back knocking gently into a wall.

When had they moved?

"Tell the bellhop you're going to the White Sands Spa and Salon," he said, trying to act like he was not eyeing her mouth with every intention of making it his. "He'll take you there."

"... okay."

Damn Xiao Lang. Let her leave already. Now. Before you can't stop yourself. Before she's not the only one making mistakes.

Exhaling heavily, he peeled his fingers from her.

"You should go now."

"I should go," she murmured, as though in a trance.

He dragged his feet as he backed away from her, and now at a safe distance, he continued to observe this dangerous specimen. Suddenly, her mouth fell open in a silent gasp. She hurried into the hallway.

"S-see you tomorrow, Li-san," she stuttered.

He nodded to her and watched her from his doorway until she got on the elevator. He closed the door thinking, this deal with her, it was a bad idea. He should call Matsushita. Cancel it. It did not matter that he was getting a decent price, better than the three hour ones he had been paying for. The package made more sense. And he could have a little fun. His heart rate quickened.

No.

No no no. He came to Japan for business. Pleasure was not even a distant second. He went into the bathroom, filled his hands with ice-cold water from the faucet and slapped it onto his face. He watched himself in the vanity mirror, beads of water dripping from his hair and chin, his brown eyes bright.

The courtesan... she was a companion. A friend.

People had friends.


A/N

Hey Tomodachi! Thank you again signed reviewers and anonymous reviewers SS, Kura, Guest, Monstar xo, Reader, Ss Fan, Ginger, Gina, abcedf, aisora14, Reader, Guest and Ryancha. I'm working long hours these days (and seven days a week) and as I said I only get time to write at night. Now when I get home I'm exhausted. The long hours are for a few more weeks but I'm getting used to them so by... next week I think, I'll be back to my usual update routine. Okay?

Oh. Glad some people are starting to dislike Syaoran. Thought it would have been more though lol. Also, you may have wanted a bit of action but it was important that he take it down a notch this chapter. Otherwise KS will never truly fall for him. Sorry if there are typos...I'm running to work!

Read and Review. Until Next Time, Ja ne! ^_^