Help Wanted

Chapter Fourteen - Unveiled

Dedicated to teressad97

"A secret's worth depends on the people from whom it must be kept."

—Carlos Ruiz Zafón

The crack of her palm against his cheek took Itachi totally and completely by surprise. Tenten hauled herself back. Her heart was hammering in her chest, pounding as if she had just run a mile. Panic, horror and a whole storm of emotions she couldn't even identify poured through her like a deluge.

For a split-second, she collided with splintering charcoal eyes, incandescent with disbelief. It would appear that Itachi too, was possessed by the force of his own fury. He smouldered and vibrated and emanated violent rage into an atmosphere that positively sizzled, ready to burst into open flames.

He was staring at her, his face white except for the red mark where her hand had impacted.

Her eyes flashed. "I'm sorry, please don't hit me," she quavered, tears rising to her eyes at the fear exhausting her—the fear of his retaliation. "I'm sorry."

It seemed almost instinctively she had been bracing herself for the head spinning sensation from the vicious movement of a heavy hand across her face. But it didn't come. She blinked, finding herself under silent observation.

Itachi was standing stock still by this time. Every line of his body was taut but he was breathing hard and his nostrils flared.

Tenten found herself nervously moistening her lips. Pulses were beating painfully at her throat. For a moment she imagined a different face before hers—older, less appealing and with more sinister eyes. A tiny spasm of fear tensed her muscles.

Itachi swore violently as one of his hands suddenly swept up between them. He grabbed a handful of her T-shirt to haul her closer, frightening her out of her wits.

Her breasts slammed painfully into his hard chest. She stopped breathing as her nipples reacted and tightened. His mouth came close to her ear and he rasped, "Why did you do that?"

"You deserve it," Tenten whispered shakily, a corkscrew of trepidation and something else that she didn't wish to identify twisted inside her. "You keep reiterating that our arrangement is exclusive, yet here you've gone shoving your tongue down Konan's throat and God knows where else."

His face darkened, his eyes suddenly as hard as steel but he said nothing else. His gaze dropped below the level of her chin to the visible thrust of her nipples beneath the T-shirt she wore, silently he must wondering if she had a phobia of wearing bras, Tenten thought to herself. Not that the knowledge would displease him entirely, she figured.

Itachi was very annoyed however. It hit Tenten like a blow that arched her aching spine some more. Her heart fluttered into sudden panic and deep down she didn't want to know what Konan had told him. Though the fact that he wasn't hauling her by her ponytail and throwing her out the door said she hadn't said much—or perhaps anything that he hadn't already known.

And all in silence, she discovered that she couldn't take her eyes off him. Involuntarily she was mesmerized by the sheer passion of so volatile a temperament. She saw the flecks of gold in his eyes, the near invisible lines that fanned out from the corners of his eyes, and imagined how they would crinkle when he laughed.

Tenten tore her gaze from his and forced herself to look away, waiting for the fear of being hit to subdue and to give rise to the anger with Itachi's condescending attitude; the biting, aggressive anger. But it didn't come. Instead, a slow-dissolving heat seemed to be spreading out through her veins, warming and weakening her, making her almost sway with sudden debilitating bonelessness.

Not this shit again, she mentally screamed, willing her heart to slow its pathetic beats. He was breaking through the wall that she had built around her sexuality. He was smashing it down.

Their heads were so close together that she could feel his breath reach out and mingle with her own. She could feel his presence in her body space; catch the scent of his musk mingled with the expensive notes of his aftershave, heady and spiced. The smell of sex.

Dear God, what was wrong with her?

Since when had she even been aware of what sex smelt like?

Tenten felt weak in the pit of her stomach.

One of her hands was slung over his shoulder. It had been in the act of pushing him away. But now the feel of his warm skin underneath the shirt was acting like a magnet. The hand moved up of its own volition to his neck. In a completely untutored and sensuous move that had Itachi's heart-rate soaring.

She allowed the back of her hand to drift up his neck, pushing aside the open collar of his shirt. And then, her eyes following the movement as though mesmerized, her hand drifted upwards until her palm rested on his bruised jaw.

Itachi grimaced.

"Maybe you should hit me back," she suggested quietly, almost as if she were talking to herself, her voice shaking.

In a sudden moment Itachi was shaking her vigorously, her brown hair tossing to and fro against her shoulders. "What is wrong with you? Why would you suggest that I do something like that?" he demanded thickly.

He always seemed calmer—more at peace with himself after he slapped her, Tenten reasoned. Maybe it would work for Itachi too. "It'll make you feel better."

Itachi was thoroughly appalled, "Where did you get that idea?"

Horrid memory blurred the images of the present and sharpened the ones of the past...

"A couple days ago you didn't know what the inside of a school looked like." He slapped her face. The impact loosened a stream of copper blood down the back of her throat. "Now that I've granted you the privilege, you want to get smart with me bitch!"

Tenten didn't dare stagger back, she knew what would come should she attempt to deflect one of his blows. She had witness what he was capable of firsthand and had scars to show for the times when she disobeyed or disrespected him. And if that wasn't enough, she was left with both a mental and emotional scar from watching him shot the only parent-figure she has ever had in the head, without so much as a second thought.

"I swear I don't know who Kakashi is!" Hot blood throbbed in her veins. It wasn't the first time that he was asking questions about this Kakashi character. Ever since he got her enrolled in Konoha High he had been accusing her of sneaking away to see him. "I was only talking to my teacher! The other girls were being mean to me and he came to my rescue."

"Came to your rescue? What is he, your fucking knight in shiny armour?" There was a brilliant flash in his eyes, next thing he administered several hard slaps, but not a sound grazed her throat. Her face turned; her body did not budge. "I told you to be at the front of the school by 3:15 p.m. sharp."

"They were teasing me for being fourteen and unable to read," Tenten cried miserably, desperately.

He didn't understand the struggles of starting school at such a late age. And whenever she asked for any help with her assigments he would simply state that Rin was a smart girl so Tenten'll figure it out. She didn't understand what he meant by that or why he kept expecting her to have Rin-like qualities.

"I didn't want to explain to them that I lived on the streets nearly all my life." She shook her head, begging him silently to understand. "That would only give them more reasons to make fun of me."

"That Momochi scumbag who claimed to have adopted you, kept you locked up as his little servant," he gritted low. "You're lucky that I found you," his voice emerged harshly.

"Mr. Hatake is the guidance counselor, he was only trying to help," her eyes stung with tears but her voice didn't waver. "I didn't know that the time had gone by so quickly."

"Two hours!" she was tartly reminded. "For two fucking hours I waited in the parking lot because I knew, had I come inside to get you, I would've throttled you upon sight." He told her unfeelingly. "Then I saw you exiting the building with him—he had his arm around you." Such bitter emphasis was placed on 'him' that Tenten flinched. "I could just kill you!"

"You could've at least rolled the window down when he came by the car!" she stepped forward and pushed a finger into his massive chest without taking the conscious decision to do so. "Mr. Hatake has been nothing but accommodating since I started going to that horrible place. There was no need to be rude."

"That horrible place is where you get an education." His expression was intense, harsh and her heart beat even faster, not in fear but in expectation. "And how dare you make a big deal over some silly cunts' remarks—"

She felt only a moment's surprise when his hand went to the back of her neck, his fingers gripping her hair to yank her head back. She held her breath as his eyes moved angrily over her face.

"—then take that man to come see me?" he hissed at her. "I told you we were to keep a low profile!" his forehead furrowed in worried lines.

But his stark language, the threat in his tone and the way his face had twisted, made Tenten feel even smaller. "He wanted to meet my guardian. I thought you would be considered that, despite—" her voice faltered and she swallowed.

He looked down at her, his eyes fierce, filled half with disbelief, half with fury. She met his look boldly, but this served only to anger him more. With a snarl, he shoved her away from him.

He was quiet for a thoughtful moment. Then he grunted something unintelligible and sat down on the couch. She was still a little too numb to react. She had been attempting her algebra home work when he decided to unleash the wrath she had sensed when he picked her up earlier.

"You're just like her, too much like her," he drew in his breath sharply. "You cry over the simplest of shit!"

"He said that I reminded him of someone too," she supplied, stepping back, breathing heavily.

His black eyes swept over her, brilliant and ironic. "He did?"

It was asked so disinterestingly that it seemed as if he had expected the comment to pop up in the midst of all this.

He stood again, bristling. His face darkened ominously, features tight. He pointed at his chest. "If I catch you around that man again, I'll enjoy beating you to a pulp more than I did not too long ago. Get out of my sight!"

His words rang with conviction the future certainly lived up to.

Tenten went tightlipped upon realizing the slip of her tongue. The last thing she needed was for Itachi to start probing into exactly how she came by the notion. His apathetic nature aside, she knew his reaction to it could only take the form of two things; sympathy or repulsion. She suspected that it would be latter.

He stopped shaking her and stared down into her face. He willed her eyes to meet his, and as if she could hear him they did. A silken cord had wrapped itself around his every sense and he felt himself tighten and harden. She went limp, soft and pliant in his arms, her curves molding to his form like a jigsaw piece slotting into place.

Suddenly all Tenten could see was his unsmiling mouth. Her thumb moved closer, traced the corner of his lower lip, wiping away the traces of Konan—ie. the lipstick stain.

They were so close. And then his head dipped slightly. She felt his breath feather again. Her eyelids felt heavy and started to flutter closed. Every part of her was aching to feel that mouth on hers…

She felt her lips part. As if she did not even have the strength to hold her mouth closed.

Her body swayed. Very slightly.

Slowly, her insides turned over.

Then she felt him against her lips.

So cold.

And yet he sent warmth shooting through every fibre in her body. Her body shook at that first touch, as if he had set a match to her and sent her flaming into orbit. He stroked her throat with the backs of his fingers, barely more than a tease, and her knees started to feel squishy. It was not until her tongue slid—off its own accord—against the rich velvet of him that she opened her eyes and realized Itachi had merely pressed his cheeks unto her lips.

Tenten jerked back again. Her mouth fell open in surprise at herself. She could barely breathe much less form words. He had tricked her.

Itachi shook his head and a cruel smile touched his mouth. "Well now you've kissed me—" he trailed a finger down her cheek and around her jaw. Then he reached out and touched her hair, brushing a chestnut lock back from her face, draping it over her shoulder. "—the score is even, so you can quit being jealous."

She was not jealous.

What she felt was disgust and disappointment.

It was not disgust aimed at herself for actually wanting the bastard to kiss her. And it certainly wasn't disappointment that he hadn't.

No, that wasn't it.

She was disgusted by Itachi's cheekiness and disappointed that she had allowed herself to fall for it, especially after he had gone face-sucking with that bitter woman.

"Jealous?" Tenten spluttered and choked. "I only expect the same exclusiveness you demand of me!"

The corner of his lips tugged into a brief smirk. The action drew her eyes to his mouth and Itachi's smirk grew knowingly wider.

Feeling as if she were drowning in the hot steam of her own embarrassment, she struck back. "If anyone is jealous, it's her, and I honestly don't see what for either. Old men don't excite me."

Itachi arched a mocking brow, "And how exactly would you know what excites you? I thought you were a virgin, Brownie?"

She nearly moaned. The name was a caress, sliding off his tongue with all the practice that had made it sound like an endearment. Tenten immediately linked it to something sexual and chastised herself for even thinking that way.

So what if Itachi had just referred to her as a pastry? So what if he had a sweet tooth? It didn't mean that he liked her or necessarily wanted to eat her.

Eat her? Oh God. Her thoughts were getting more and more perverted as the days rolled by.

Her teeth bared a grimace, tiny earthquakes were going off somewhere inside her. Somewhere undiscovered—unexplored. "Don't call me that!"

He actually had the gall to roll his eyes and tell her that the nickname was suiting. "I thought age was but a number?" he taunted, echoing what she kept on reiterating their first meeting. "Our age difference simply means that I can offer you all the experience in the world," his statement was clothed but he made no attempt to dress up its underlying meaning.

"Who says I want anything besides the money out of this?" She folded her arms. The heavy sweep of his eyelashes dropped low as he watched her do it, and the tense quiver struck down her front.

His lips twitched and he asked silkily, "Who are you trying to convince? Me or yourself?"

She didn't know the answer to that one.

Tenten flushed and decided that it would be best to drop the conversation. That uncomfortable ache was back again and she had no intention of further rubbing it up the wrong way. "Where is the housekeeper? I'm starving," she instinctively looked around the massive kitchen.

The space combined elegance and functionality, blending granite countertops and marble flooring with stainless steel appliances and glass-and-wood cabinets. There was a five burner gas stove, dishwasher, French door refrigerator and freezer with both a cold water dispenser and ice maker. It came as no surprise that there was a wine refrigerator or that a small bar completed the sophisticated decor.

A large dual sink, microwave, coffee maker, toaster, electric mixer and a full step of sharp knives were the only things that took away from the otherwise vacant counters. All utensils and food item were neatly stacked away in cabinets or in the case of frozen goods, in the fridge.

When Tenten came down, her mind had been too preoccupied with anxiety over what Konan had unearthed to have noticed the lack of signs of any activity in the kitchen. Her stomach growled in protest now that she realized breakfast hadn't been waiting for her as she's accustomed to finding it, since she moved in.

"I fired her," he answered bluntly, seating himself on one of the stools by the bar. Brown eyes followed his movement without Tenten telling them to do so.

He switched on his tablet—that never seems to leave the kitchen—and when it didn't hold his attention for long, he turned his attention to the newspaper beside him. As the overhead fan rustled its thin leaves, Tenten smelled the fresh ink on its pages and imagined that it was perhaps still a little warm to the touch. It came in not too long ago.

She gaped at Itachi, "What for? Who'll cook our meals?"

"You will."

It was the cool way he relayed that that made her look up at him. The moment she saw the way he was sitting there looking as contained as hell, she knew he had turned back into the cool-headed Uchiha Itachi who did not play fair in a fight.

Her shoulders wrenched back. "What?"

He began to skim through the newspaper with detached eyes, "I've decided to let you absorb the duties of my house keeper," his tone was conversational. "I don't want our arrangement out in the opening, having in-house employees threatens our secrecy," he reasoned. "Besides, I can't imagine that you'd enjoy sitting around for an entire day just waiting for me to come home and have se—?"

Tenten snatched in a ragged breath and covered her ears, screaming, "Shut up! Don't say it."

Itachi stared blankly at her, lowered the morning's paper and, his face a picture of aggravation, and demanded, "Are you five?"

No she was not. What she was, was a little turned on by his bluntness.

She ground her teeth together. Give me strength! Was the plea that sprang to her lips, successfully smothered by her almost level, "Let me get this straight, first you wanted me to have your children, now I am to wash, cook and clean for you as well?"

He nodded once.

Tenten drew herself up to her unimpressive full height and shot him a look of blatant disapproval. "What am I, your wife?" Whether he heard the sarcasm she couldn't be sure.

She saw the wide shoulders stiffen. He turned to glare at her disbelievingly for long, charged moments that set up a now familiar sensation deep in her tummy, robbing her of breath and turning her face crimson before he muttered tightly, "Had I wanted you as my wife, I would have made it so. But I don't."

Anger flamed in the look she trained on him. "You say it as if I wouldn't have had a choice in the matter." She was at pains to project because the rage was rapidly subsiding, leaving an unwelcome feeling of desperate hurt in the region of her chest because of his curt declaration.

"You wouldn't have," his eyes flickered to a small brown parcel on the counter and he reached for it. In a matter of minutes he was ripping off the wrapping and laughing to himself. "Hidan must've stopped by earlier, this came in for you."

Tenten snatched the book out of the air as it came spiraling in her direction. She peered down at it with an opened mouth. It read Sex Secrets of the Kama Sutra. "Wha—what is this?" she stammered, continuing to stare aghast at it as if she expected the book to grow a mouth and gnaw at her fingers.

The cover art was the naked torso of a pale skinned woman lying on a bed of rose petals. A couple of them were concentrated a few inches below her navel, forming a red triangle to shield her more private assets from sight. Her breasts were rounded, full and bare except for two stray petals that covered her nipples.

Tenten blindly opened the book and was instantly greeted by another image that would've given her a nosebleed on the spot, hadn't she been trying not to give that damn Uchiha the satisfaction of knowing exactly how shocked she was by this little stunt.

"Dear Girl Scout, I hope you find this very useful. Happy baby-making, love Hidan." Itachi shook his head as he read the pink card that came along with the package. "PS: I read somewhere that a woman can't get pregnant if she's on top." Tenten flushed and to punctuate the humiliating point, Itachi went on. "I'm guessing due to gravity, Itachi's little swimmers won't be able to make it all the way up your tunnel..." He lifted his eyes to view her with enough mockery in his eyes to make her wince and blush furiously. "I thought you might want to know since attempting some of these positions would probably defeat the purpose of trying to get knocked up. It never hurts to have fun while you're on the job though."

She just stared at him, dazed and shaken.

He used his lightest, most cajoling tone, his eyes searching her set-rigid features, suddenly, puzzlingly, wanting to see her laugh or smile—at least once. "Well that takes care of that. We were just saved a trip to the bookstore." When he saw Tenten's confused expression he added, "Have you forgotten how you pouted and gave me the puppy dog eyes last night, just to coax me into getting you a copy of this book?"

Tenten was quick to deny the allegations. She had never heard of such an immoral piece of literature. Moreover why would she ask Itachi for anything, not to mention something so erotic? "If this is another one of your ploys to coerce me into getting comfortable with the idea of sleeping with you, then I'm afraid it won't work. I refuse to be a guinea pig for sex positions—"

She went quiet as she watched Itachi's face go still. Very still. He actually looked offended. Obviously her accusation made him retract what he was initially going to say. His eyes intent on hers, he said softly, with a thread of venom, "You'll be whichever type of guinea pig I choose," he said with silken cruelty. "Now off you go, breakfast isn't going to make itself."

Tenten stood rooted where she was, her grip tightening on the filthy book. She couldn't believe people wrote these types of things or that it actually sold. There was a little caption on the cover that had told her it was actually best-selling.

"I'm not your maid!"

"You've got two options Brownie. Either you make us something to eat or—" he rapped out. Something hard and hot ricocheted through him, ending up in a knot in his chest at the thought of the alternative he would give her. "—or we sit down and go through every damn page of that book while we wait on some food to be delivered to us."

She wiped her sweaty palm in her shorts and switched the hand that held the book. Waking up in his bed had been frightening enough already, this—this was too much. The impossible ultimatum he gave her should have been expected, she didn't know why she was getting so hot and flustered over it. Worse, Tenten didn't know why she was even considering her options in the first place! Her choice should be crystal clear.

Laying down for him she would have to handle—as stipulated in their contract—but house chores had not been a part of their agreement. It could be argued that sleeping with Itachi was a million times more intimate, however, the added task of making certain all his other needs were taken care of did make their relationship seem more personal.

Tenten cleared her throat purposefully. A part of her was a tiny bit curious about the content of the book, but the rumbling of her stomach gave her enough resolve to fight the temptation. "If I consent to taking on the housekeeper's chores then I expect to absorb her salary as well."

"Very well then."

Just like that.

No hint of surprise, no raised voice. No response, not even a flicker of those long, lush, lazy lashes, the super-controlled bastard!

She blinked at him.

The silence between them began to stretch; she could feel it vibrating like a tautened wire between them. But, in a way, it made her want to do something to stop it, so she turned abruptly away from him, away from his carefully neutral eyes.

"Understand this," he finally spoke quietly. "You will not get a dime from me until after my child is conceived. If you think that you're going to get rich off me and bolt before holding up your end of the bargain then you're in for something."

She didn't answer, her small chin lowering to her chest in an act of sinking shame, and another tense silence followed. Her cheeks warmed with guilty color because that was exactly what she had planned to do—earn enough money to last for awhile, and then leave. A month's salary was enough feed and house her for half a year; it would be all she needed.

She had almost fainted when she saw the figures on his contract and wondered if perhaps it had been a typo. It appeared quite a number of times throughout the document however, which led her to believe that it hadn't.

Still, that Itachi was willing to pay her so heavily just to produce a child meant he must really want one.

And yet Tenten felt close to nothing for him or his cause, even if she would very much like to try everything in that blasted book with him. It was purely physical. Although she supposed that if it was given room to, it could bloom into something else.

She stomped down on the thought. Who was she kidding, she wouldn't know such things if it swooped down and smacked her in the face. Itachi was still a man, she would continue to resent him for that simple fact.

"You can't possibly be serious!"

"I am," he told her grimly. "Konan doesn't trust you and I'm inclined to take her feelings into consideration. She has proven herself to be a very good judge of character. No child, no cash."

Tenten shrugged it off and went about seethingly preparing breakfast. Clearly she had underestimated Itachi. But she would have to do something about that woman's influence on him, as well as his policy for no pay without product—i.e. a baby. It was ridiculous. It was modern day slavery and would no doubt slow her down significantly. If he was really an Uchiha then sticking around would not be wise. She needed to leave as soon as possible.

A little voice in her head told her that it would be wise to just sleep with Itachi and get it over with. At least then she would be able to fake a pregnancy test without raising too many questions, collect her cheque and be on her way.

That was what she would do, she decided.

Soon the wafting aroma of warm powdered sugar was rising like newborn donuts from the pancake batter with warm blueberries filling the air. It mixed with the roasted scent of coffee beans, sausages and egg.

"I don't eat eggs," Itachi commented dryly. "And the sausages smell burnt."

She narrowed her eyes and flung him a frustrated glance from over her shoulders. He was still sitting pretty on his stool watching her with keen eyes like a slave master, his words flaying her like whips.

In the process of sliding a pancake off the spatula and onto a plate for him, she was struck by a ridiculously childish thought. Before she could stop herself, she was spitefully raising the plate to her face and swiping her tongue across the cool ceramic expanse of it.

"We'll see how burnt it taste mixed with my saliva," she mumbled beneath her breath and placed the ladened plate before him, along with a cup of coffee so sweet it was bound to sting his throat.

It felt sort of exhilarating to be vindictive, Itachi made it so easy.

Tenten giggled.

"What was that?" his ears perked up, but his eyes were trained on his tablet.

Emboldened by curiosity, she stole a peek at the tablet screen. Her heart split open, remorse spilling out from the jagged crack-along with the hapless realization that he was looking at pictures of his deceased family.

She felt like she had violated his privacy and in a breathless rush of words she apologized when he looked up at her, his face a mask of granite. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," Tenten backed away.

"I didn't realize that you would be having the utensils for breakfast," Itachi said, shoving his plate aside.

She wasn't following. "What?"

"Isn't that why you licked my plate clean of its imaginary gravy before you served me," he stood and advanced grimly towards her, eyes hard, mouth tight, his whole demeanor one of utter bone clenching distaste.

"What? You're imagining things Itachi," she shook her head as he closed the distance between them. Tenten was starting to feel desperate. She felt raw and vulnerable but tried to laugh it all off. "I would never do something so childish."

"Is that so?" the way he asked it indicated that he wasn't expecting a response.

Dropping her hand to her side, she clenched it into a tight fist of bitter aching despair. She hadn't planned on giving him one either. Who did he think he was, insulting her cooking?

His frown was as black as thunder when he extended the hand with his tablet to her. "You had asked me about Rin Nohara?" he questioned warily.

She nodded, taking the device with numb fingers. Happy to have him drop the issue. Her blood always ran cold at the mention of that faceless woman.

"Third row, second from the left," he instructed. The way his lips clamped together and his hand raked through his hair told her he was not too thrilled about having stumbled upon the picture.

Tenten's eyes raked over the figures all clad in graduation gowns and donning proud smiles. Her whole body jolted with horrified shock when she finally found the infamous Rin. Tenten would've been the mirror image of the girl had her hair been shorter and her skin fairer. It was still uncanny.

Next to her stood—a fresh wave of dread ran through Tenten—albeit him being years younger, there was no mistaking him. Then another sizzle of tension filled her with spine-tingling horror when she saw the mob of white hair on the other side of Rin. It was Mr. Hatake.

In that moment her mind was thrown into clamoring confusion. Her heart suddenly decided to stammer. "Who's that beside Rin?" she asked frantically.

"One of them is Kakashi Hatake, my cousin's best friend. The one with his arm around Rin is my cousin. He's—"

"Obito," The rest got stuck in her tension-locked throat and she had to swallow before she could say it. "Obito Uchiha."