Chapter 2
The summerhouse was tucked into the end of the rose garden. It was a cool octagonal building, open on two sides to the scents of early summer. Sesshoumaru sank into the newly oiled canvas rocker with a sigh of relief.
Bates brought out the tray and placed it noiselessly on a pine table beside him.
"I am sorry about this morning," he said. "Miss Leiko really convinced me that you wanted her to meet you in my place."
"I'm sure she did," Sesshoumaru said dryly. "Don't worry about it."
"Nevertheless, I was at fault. I should have checked. I will next time."
Sesshoumaru shuddered. "No next time," he said with resolution.
He lowered one shoulder and twisted his head away from it, feeling the tension like a knotted roped down his neck. Bates would have thought it intrusive to express sympathy, but he poured a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice without being asked.
"Shall I book you into the Glen for a few days? Tomorrow?"
When the pace of his life took too great a toll Sesshoumaru went to a Spartan health hydro, not far from Tokyo, even with that Roman name. It was a very popular and most patrons faced a waiting list. But Bates was quite right in believing the Glen would have made a place for Sesshoumaru at less that a day's notice.
Sesshoumaru hesitated, tempted. But in the end he shook his head regretfully. I've still got work to do. An I don't want to miss the rest of Totosai's visit. Maybe next week.
Bates looked concerned. Sesshoumaru did not encourage fussing. On the other hand, Bates had never seen him look so exhausted. He hesitated, but in the end said, "You really do look very tire."
Bates gave him the just. He still looked worried. Sesshoumaru smile. (Ace: I frown, the fact, that it would never happen...but I can visualize and fantasize, neh ; ) ).
"If I can get this deal sorted out, I'll go to San Puerto," he promised.
Bates knew of Sesshoumaru's Tuscan retreat. He looked relieved.
"I should think it would be very pleasant at this time of year," he said sedately.
Sesshoumaru tipped his head back and closed his eyes.
"Mmm," he said. "No phones. No women." He let out a long sigh.
Bates waited. Sesshoumaru neither opened his eyes nor spoke again. After a moment Bates remove the glass from his unresisting hand. He left quietly. Sesshoumaru did not stir.
The Jacuzzi, Kagome found, was rather alarming. It had almost as many instructions as the burglar alarm. She read them carefully. But still, when she turned it on, the bath became a multi-jet fountain, soaking the walls and the rose-colored carpet.
She mopped up, unpacked dry shorts and shirt, and retreated. Her hair dripped down. The sun, she thought. That was what she needed. A good book and a cheese sandwich and she could stretch out in the lush garden and dry out.
But first there was something she had been putting off for a week. She braced herself.
The phone was answered on the second ring by a bark. (Ace: I'm really sorry, because of my characters being all MAJOR OOC, I couldn't resist, and I tried my best, but I just couldn't get them into character).
"Yes?"
Her mother hated the telephone and never sounded encouraging anyway.
"Hello, Mother. It's Kagome. I thought I'd let you know I've moved."
Her mother's voice warmed into interest. "You've left that dead-end job?"
Kagome sighed. Her mother had high ideal and absolutely no practical sense. She had been furious when Kagome had decided to teach instead of devoting her time to painting. "You will suffocate you creativity," her mother had said darkly. "Just like I did when I married your father."
Since she married because Kagome was on the way there was not much Kagome could say to that one. Her mother did not seem to understand the realities of life. She just wanted Kagome to be a free spirit and go where her inspiration took her. She thought Kagome's desire to eat very poor-spirited.
Now Kagome said patiently, "No, Mother. I'm still selling my soul for a mess of oden. But I've moved house. I thought you'd want my new phone number."
"Oh."
Kagome gave it to her, and her mother wrote it down.
"I didn't know you were leaving the flat."
"I wasn't. There were developments."
Her mother would not be sympathetic if she told her about the traumas of the last fortnight. She took little interest in love affairs, and none at all in other people's traumas. She would never have let herself get caught in between two warring flat mates. Predictably she showed no interest.
"So where are you now?"
"I'm house-sitting. On my own, this time."
"Good," said her mother. "You'll be able to get on with your painting without those silly girls wasting you time."
"They're my friends," squawked Kagome in protest. Even now, her mother's single-mindedness could shock her.
She could almost see her mother shrug. "Never thought about anything but clothes or boys," she said, dismissing them.
Since that had been exactly the cause of their acrimonious break-up, Kagome could not really argue with that.
She did however, point out, "That's life, Mother."
There was a giant snort from the other end of the telephone. "Not for a serious artist," said her mother with conviction. "It's time you faced up to it and did something about your talent."
She rang off, briskly convinced that she had done her best for her only child. (Ace: Kagome's an only child, and Souta will be here, but he's not significant and he's at least 10 yrs older than Kagome...sorry didn't warn you bout that...ALSO, the time in my story is before they made spaceships, or anything...soooooooooo oooooooooold...soooooooooooooooo soooooooooooory!)
"Thank you, Mother," said Kagome to the buzzing line.
Telling her father the news took an even shorter time. As usual, he was not at home. As usual, the crisp message on his answering machine reduced her to monosyllables. Kagome left him the bare details of her new home. Her father always seemed to reduce her to a curt little voice, she thought, despairing. Even when she wanted to sound friendly she could not.
A drip detached itself from her hair and ran down her spine.
"Sun," Kagome told herself aloud. She shook her shoulder as if that would get rid of the uneasy feeling talking to her parent always gave her. "I have a new home and the sun is shining. All is well with the world. Believe it."
Sesshoumaru tipped his head back and watched the sun dance off the edge of the apple blossom. When he half closed his eyes the light refracted off his eyelashes into a thousand rainbows. His body felt light. He picked up the glass and drained his juice, then heard the glass fall to the floor and his hand missed the teak table. God, I must be more tired than I realized, he thought.
That must be why those girls in their battered van had irritated him. The raven head had looked as if she'd wanted to hit him. Shame, that. She'd been quite impossible, of course, with her traveling junk shop of belongings and her nasty temper. But still there had been something about her. He could not quite remember what. But something...
Bees hummed. The sun was warm on his skin. Sesshoumaru's eyes drooped. He slept.
Kagome took a sketchpad and her chalks onto the lawn. Any other girl would have donned a bikini and stretched out in the sun, but Kagome had her own reasons for not sunbathing. She did not even possess a bikini, and the reasons are her own.
Instead she folded her long legs under her and began to sketch the lavish prospect: sky-blue grape hyacinths under a fall of star flowered jasmine, golden iris, wallflowers the color of imperial velvet and perfumed like a night in paradise; lilac...
Kagome drew a long breath of sheer happiness.
Her fingers flew. She forgot her parents, both the old tensions and new difficulties alike. Flowers bloomed on the paper. She hardly seemed to touch it and the image was there: half-formed, enigmatic, but somehow utterly the thing it was suppose to be. Kagome worked like lightning hardly believing her luck.
It was the lilac that was her downfall.
The tree was heavy with the drooping white blossom, but, try as she could, she could not get the curve of branch and flower. She left them and went on to draw the little lilies of the valley, cat-faced pansies, waving grasses. But time and again dissatisfaction drove her back.
She uncoiled herself. There was a branch about halfway up. It looped over the wall into the neighboring garden but it had exactly the right arc, the right fall of blossom. It was out of reach from the ground but not impossibly high. It was touching the wall, though. Kagome had done some conscientious research for her gardening responsibilities and she remembered that trees could get fungus if their branches were allowed to rub against brickwork.
"Pruning," she said aloud. "That's what it need."
And, incidentally, she would get her branch of lilac to paint without risking a terminal crick in the neck. Benefit all around, she thought, pleased. She went in search of secateurs.
Ten minutes later she was regretting the whole idea.
The lilac tree was old and sturdy. But it was not exactly the sort of tree you climbed when you were five foot ten and had never been a champion gymnast. Nevertheless, it had stood a long time, and one unwise assault was not likely to bring it crashing to the ground. Or so Kagome found herself trying to believe.
"I can do this," she said between clenched teeth. "I can."
She looped an escaping swatch of soft hair behind her ear and applied herself to the problem. She also held onto the branch for dear life.
It had not looked this difficult when she'd started. The branch had looked nearer, the lilac tree had been definitely been half its present height and there had been no sign at all of the dog on the other side of the wall. The dog was now jumping excitedly against the wall that divided the gardens. As it did so, it showed a fine set of healthy teeth.
Normally Kagome liked dogs well enough. But she averted her eyes from those teeth. If only someone would come out of the house and put a muzzle on the wretched creature. Even the bad-tempered man who had not liked Sango's van would have been better that no one.
"Hello?" she called out tentatively.
Sesshoumaru Takari stirred, not opening his eyes. He frowned. Something had disturbed him. He did not know what it was. He didn't like it.
Somebody wanted him to do something. No, not somebody: a woman. Again. Why wouldn't they leave him alone? He turned his head away from the source of the noise.
"No," he muttered.
No response. The house looked as deserted as the summer garden. No sign of this morning's bully. No one to catch her if she fell out of the lilac tree. Kagome set her teeth. She was on her own.
"I got myself into this. I can get myself out of it. I can." She said it aloud. It seemed more convincing that way.
The tree wobbled. She clutched convulsively at her branch. There were twigs in her hair and her bare arms would carry the scratches for a long time. If she got down at all.
"Nonsense. Of course I'll get done." It was, Kagome thought, the bracing tone she used to her least talented students. It did not convince them either.
Below her the dog reared up on its back legs. At its full height both paws reached high enough up the wall to come within touching distance. It barked once. It was not reassuring.
"Good dog," said Kagome without conviction.
It seemed to encourage the animal, she saw dismally. Not taking its eyes off her, it set up a pleasurable barking that would, surely, have roused the neighborhood---if there was anyone about to be roused. The dog began to drool.
Sesshoumaru wasn't sure whether he was dreaming. He turned his head restlessly. He knew he should be moving, doing something. Even on this warm Saturday, he had a load of work. So maybe it was the voice of conscience sounding through his head like a wild hunt. He became aware of a vast indignation at a world, which would not even let him drowse in his own garden for half an hour. He stirred angrily, trying to burrow into the canvas cushions under his head and shut out the noise.
The barking increased to a level a rock band would envy. If she had not been clinging desperately to the trunk of the tree, Kagome would have put her hand over her ears. She could only pray that the touchy millionaire was not at home. Or her tenancy of the house would be over in less than twenty-four hours.
"Hush," Kagome hissed.
The dog took no notice. The tree seemed to sway. She grabbed. She heard an ominous cracking.
The dog backed off and began to charge the wall. He gave the impression, thought Kagome sourly, that he had not had a game like this in months. The tree swayed further.
"Shut up, you stupid animal," she yelled. ( O.o )
Peering through the branches, she tried to quell the dog with a basilisk glare. It was a bad mistake. The ground was much too far away. Her branch dripped towards it.
"Stay calm," she told herself. Her shaky tone belied the heartening words.
The dog thudded rhythmically against the wall. The tree creaked. Kagome gave a squeak of pure terror and shut her eyes.
Sesshoumaru gave up the unequal struggle. He opened his eyes. Something was pounding in his head. He should not have let himself fall asleep in the chair like that. At least, not on an empty stomach and a week's jet lag, he thought fuzzily. He could feel the beginning of one of his infrequent but devastating migraines.
He regarded the extravagance of early summer with blurred indignation. The garden was deserted. In the wind-less air, the braches were still. A few early bees buzzed. The guard dog his insurance company insisted on was chasing one along the wall. But that was all.
Or was it? He stood up, rather unsteadily, and went to the summerhouse entrance. Bracing himself against the lintel, he tried to focus.
The Great Dane was flinging itself up the wall, barking. Either the target had no sense of self-preservation at all or something strange was happening. Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed. Yes, there was definitely something wrong with the lilac tree next door. In spite of the windless day its blossoms were waving wildly.
Sesshoumaru was a scientist. It cost him a wince, but he swung round to check the apple trees, just to be certain. He liked to be in control of his facts. Yes, he was right, the braches on his own trees were as still as stone. So there had to be someone in that lilac tree.
Sesshoumaru came suddenly and sharply alert. He forgot his incipient migraine. He stood very still listening.
Was it her imagination or was the tree beginning to tilt into the wall? Katie opened her eyes and scanned the neigboring garden feverishly. The bully might have gone about his business, the millionaire might be away---she prayed that he was---but was there not supposed to be a couple who looked after him? What she needed here was a friendly man with a long ladder. If---
The tree definitely lurched. Kagome stopped thinking.
"Help!" she yelled.
The sound sliced through his brain. Sesshoumaru swung back to the tree. He was suddenly, blindingly angry. He began to run.
Katie was clinging like a monkey to the wildly dipping branch. Her foothold had gone; the dog was hitting the garden wall with the regular thump of a pile driver, she felt sick.
And then, out of nowhere, a furious voice shouted. It was shockingly close. And everything seemed to go in slow motion.
The branch touched the ground. Her grazed hands began to slip. Kagome flung her weight forward desperately. But it was too late. With what seemed to her incredible slowness the branch splintered. It broke.
Kagome hurtled to the ground. On the wrong side of the wall.
Frantically, she tried to remember from long-ago gymnastics classes the best way to fall. Don't brace yourself. Was that it? And roll when you hit the ground.
So Kagome was rapidly turning herself limp as a rag doll when she received another, deeper shock. A pair of muscular hands took her round the waist as she whooshed past. And then there were two of the rolling as they hit the ground.
Kagome forgot all her gymnastics classes and trying to minimize the physical damage. She yelled like a banshee.
Her captor brought their headlong tumble to an abrupt halt.
"This," he said in tones of barely controlled fury, "is too much."
For a moment Kagome found herself on top of a deeply rising chest, staring down into the yellowiest, goldest eyes she had ever seen, but it's the only one she has ever seen. The goldest and most coldly angry. Then he gave a lithe twist and she was underneath him. For a shattering moment Kagome breathed in the hot scent of his skin. Then his head blotted out the sun.
As a kiss, it was more like a declaration of war.
"No," said Kagome.
Or at least that was what she tried to say. It did not come quite like that. To her fury it sounded, even to herself, like a groan of surrender.
Her t-shirt had rucked under her as she landed. Now one hand found her naked skin. Normally just the touch of alien fingers on her waist would have had Kagome cold with horror. But she was beyond thinking about her normal actions. And she was certainly not cold.
She felt his hand splay out against her spine: hot as fire, strong as steel. Then he was lifting her effortlessly against him. He was not brutal. but the sheer power of the movement made her tremble. Not with fear.
She groaned again. It did not sound like a protest this time either.
The man's mouth lifted. Kagome knew vaguely that she ought to wrestle her way out of his arms. Get to her feet. Escape.
She did not move.
It was as if the unaccustomed hand on her skin had scrambled her brains. She was all sensation. Hot and cold and utterly bewildered. With a little sigh her head fell back.
Sesshoumaru stared down at his captive. He was shocked at the primitive fury that had shaken him. Even more shocked at the no less primitive feelings that had succeeded it. They surged through him now. The girl was not even trying to get away. Suddenly he wanted---oh, God, he wanted...
Kagome felt oddly remote. She was helpless to resist the magnetization of her senses and she knew it. It gave her a pleasant sense of irresponsibility. She lay there, delighting in it, every nerve quickened in expectation. Her eyes drifter shut, her lips parted---
Sesshoumaru hauled himself off her and stood up in one furious leap.
Kagome's eyes flew open in shock. The tall figure was blocking the sun. Against the glare of the summer sky, his face was in shadow. But there was no doubt of his feelings as he looked down on her. He was incandescent with rage. Her remoteness evaporated. She came back to the present with a bump.
"What the hell do you think you're doing?" His voice was harsh with strain and he flexed his hands as if he did not know what to do with them.
Kagome hardly noticed. She was too shocked. Coming back to the present was like walking into a cold shower. Instinctively her hand went to her midriff and encounter bare flesh.
For a moment she was absolutely still with horror. Her t-shirt was tangled under her arms. He would have seen. He had to have seen.
Distress held her immobile for a moment. Then she gave a little sob and jack-knifed upright. She was shaking so much she had trouble hauling her t-shirt back into place.
The man said nothing. That made it worse. She bent her head so she did not have to see the disgust in his eyes.
But disgust did not seem to be uppermost in his mind. He was ferociously angry. More than angry.
"Nice try." He flung at her. The irony was biting.
Kagome was bewildered. So bewildered she almost forgot her distress.
"What?"
Sesshoumaru was bringing himself under control. He was still furious but it was colder, more deliberate fury.
"Diversionary tactics," he said. "Brilliant."
"Diversionary---?"
Kagome was so confused she forgot she was not going to look him in the face. She tilted her head, shading her eyes against the sun.
He hunkered down beside her as if there were having a friendly conversation.
"I've met some skilled operators in my time. But you are up there with best," he told her pleasantly.
Kagome shivered. She did not like his tone.
"I don't know what you're talking about."
And he was much, much too close. She leaned away from him as far as she could. She winced. The sun was beginning to make her eyes water.
"Oh, well done," said the hateful voice softly.
Kagome stared. He touched a finger along her cheekbone. It was very gentle and quite unbelievably insulting.
"Real tears," he mocked.
Kagome made a discovery. She might have come back to her senses but her instincts were still out there, humming with response. And that insulting touch re-ignited every one of them.
"Oh, hell," she said faintly.
Sesshoumaru's eyes narrowed in triumph. "So you admit it?"
Kagome made another discovery. Now that she was thinking clearly again, she recognized him. He was the vigilante who had challenged her and Sango this morning. The one with the blonde girlfriend. Her dismay gave way to dawning temper. She scrambled to her feet. The man made no attempt to help her.
"Thank you for your concern," she snapped.
She ignored him, running her fingers through her tangled hair. The man stood up and Kagome retreated a pace. Holding his eyes defiantly, she checked quickly that her t-shirt was in place. It was. Perhaps he had not seen after all. She began to feel better. And hotly indignant.
"That dog should be chained up," she flung at him. "I could have broken something falling off that wall."
He watched her cynically. Then shrugged. "Every trade has its risks."
Kagome was brushing twigs off her shorts. She looked up at that, glaring.
"What trade, for heaven's sake?"
"At a guess, I'd say breaking and entering," her adversary said coolly.
"Breaking---?" She was incredulous. "You're out of you mind."
He raised one eloquent eyebrow. The ruins of the lilac lay some distance away. The dog was gnawing at it happily. Kagome realized with a shock if the dog had not had the branch to play with he would in all probability have piled in to take part in their undignified tussle. It made her even more furious.
"You can't think I fell out of that tree deliberately?" she said hotly.
He seemed to consider that. "No," he allowed at last. "I don't imagine you wanted to attract my attention."
Unwillingly, Kagome remembered exactly how much of his attention she had attracted. Rather too vividly. It imposed a constraint on her righteous anger. Embarrassed, she looked away.
"I was trying to pick a branch of lilac," she said hurriedly.
This time he raised both eyebrows.
"I wanted to paint it," she flung back in the face of the patent disbelief.
"Sure."
"I did."
He crossed his arms. " And who let you into the Shiros' garden?"
"No one. I mean, I did myself, of course. I---"
He nodded as if that was exactly what he'd expected. "So you broke into their garden as well as this one?" He reached out a hand and took her by the elbow. "Come on."
Kagome jumped. He was mad. But his touch was an all too eloquent reminder. She had nearly surrendered to that terrible throbbing magnetism. Was it only minutes ago? Sango had seen it coming, too. What was it she had said about hormones?
Furious with herself, Kagome shook his hand away.
For a second his eyes flared. She'd been right, she thought. They were the most brilliant eyes she had ever seen. Their expression shocked her. Then, in a blink, it was gone and he was shrugging again.
"OK. Then you come into the house under your own steam."
"What?"
His voice was dangerously calm. "I am not letting you out of my sight."
All Kagome's nerves leaped into tingling awareness again. She swallowed. "Why?" she managed.
"Oh, I like the innocent bewilderment," he congratulated her blandly. "It's even better that the tears. You're very good, you know. It's just you misfortune I'm not the protective type."
She shook her head, confused.
"Don't bother," he told her, his voice hardening. "If you think I'm leaving you alone to make your escape, you're not using that sharp brain of yours."
"But---"
"Forget it. I'm going to the police. You stick by my side until they get here."
"The police?" Kagome's voice rose to a squeak.
He gave her a cool, surprised look. "Of course."
"But I haven't done anything."
It did not move him an inch. "Because I was here and able to prevent you," he said pleasantly. "That doesn't change you intentions. They should interest the police."
"Look," Kagome said feverishly, "I'm house-sitting for the Shiros"
Her adversary looked bored.
Her voice rose several tones. "I am. I told you this morning. Don't you ever listen?"
He was certainly not listening now. His face was like granite. "Tell that to the police."
He gestured towards the house. Kagome hesitated. But there was no help for it. One look at his face told her he was not going to move until she went inside. And she really did not want him touching her again. She bit her lip and went towards a large open French window.
The dog stopped chewing the branch as she went past. It raised its head in mild interest.
"Good dog," said Kagome sarcastically.
"It is indeed," agreed the man. He was following altogether too close on her heels. To Kagome's ears he sounded disgustingly pleased with himself. "If the dog had not barked, I might not have known you were breaking in until it was too late"
Kagome stopped, and turned so abruptly he almost walked into her.
"Listen to me, you complacent bully," she said with heat/hate. "You can call the police if you like, but you're only going to look like an almighty fool when I prove who I am."
He did not like that, she was glad to see. His brows twitched together. He did not exactly back off but it did seem to give him pause. He scanned her face for a long unnerving moment. Something in her outrage must have got through him at last, Kagome thought.
"All right," he said after a minute. "Convince me."
She let out an explosive sigh of relief.
"Well---"
"Inside," he interrupted.
"I'd rather---" Kagome began.
But he had put his hand between her shoulder blades to guide her indoors. At once she felt a wave---no, a blast---of sensation. It was shocking and unwelcome and it made her forget everything she had been going to say.
Kagome swallowed. And went without a word.
In the shadowed room he waved her to a deep sofa. Still shaken, Kagome sat down without protest. She looked at him from under her lashes. If he had felt that zing of electricity when he touched her, he was hiding it well. The face he turned to her was utterly non-committal. She straightened her spine.
She said crisply," I really am housesitting while the Shiros are away. I answered an advert in The Times."
He considered it. "All that proves is that you have good information. So you know the Shiros are away. Fine. But you must see that there are other ways you could have found out than by pressing the key into your hand. And---I'm afraid you'll have to forgive me---I find that less reassuring."
He had a point. Kagome was fair-minded enough to admit that---at least to herself. She did not, of course, tell him so.
Instead she muttered, "Lasshe Hakuro---er---engaged me." She added resentfully, "I told you that this morning too."
He looked at her for a long moment. You could not tell from his expression whether he knew what she was talking about. Certainly there was no sign of recognition in the cold eyes.
He sighed. "This morning I had other things on my mind. Tell me about this deal you have with Lasshe. What references did she take?"
Kagome stopped being fair-minded. Her temper flared. "What's it go to do with you?"
"It's my responsibility to make this place secure. And keep it that way."
"Oh."
Lasshe Hakuro had been desperate. She had checked with the school that Kagome was who she said she was, but she had not asked for references. And she had given Kagome only the sketchiest breakdown of her task. Neighbors had barely figured. All Kagome knew about the next-door house was that it was owned by a millionaire who was a fanatical anti-noise freak but fortunately was seldom in residence. A security expert had not been mentioned.
Kagome looked doubtfully across at the man. He did not look like anybody's staff.
She said slowly, "How do I know that?"
"What? She had disconcerted him.
"You might be pulling a double bluff," she pointed out. "Perhaps you are the intruder."
"What are you talking about?"
"Burglary," said Kagome, warming to her theme. "I fell out of the tree and disturbed you."
"You did that all right," he muttered.
Kagome decided not to hear him.
"Saturday must be the perfect day. Especially if the old boy who owns the place is away. So you start accusing me while I'm still disoriented. Before I can ask you what you're up to," she finished triumphantly.
The man appeared to be speechless. Kagome found it exhilarating. She beamed.
He said curtly, "This is nonsense and you know it."
"You would say that, wouldn't you?"
He gave her a look of acute dislike. "You may have observed that the dog know me. Stupid though the creature undoubtly is, it is a trained guard dog. Its his job to challenge intruders. As you found."
Kagome had not thought of that. "Oh."
"Tell me about this advertisement," he said in a neutral tone.
Kagome grimaced, remembering. "I thought I was really lucky to find it." She was unconscious of the wistfulness in her voice.
The man's eye sharpened. "Why?"
"Well, I've only been in Tokyo nine months but I've lived in six different places---not counting the floors I've slept on in between," she said ruefully. "The last one was a shared apartment in Hinto."
"The place you moved out of today?"
She nodded.
He said slowly, "What went wrong?"
"Oh, the usual," said Kagome. "It was great for a while. Lots of fun. We had great laughs together. Then one of the girls started an affair with another one's boyfriend and it all fell apart. Sex," she added, "can be a great mistake."
Quite suddenly, the man's lips twitched. It made him look horridly sexy, Kagome thought. On top of everything else, it wasn't fair. She looked away.
He said gravely, "Which one were you?"
She was started into looking him in the eyes. "What?"
"The betrayer or the betrayed?" he explained.
"Oh." Kagome gave a choke of started laughter. "Neither. Much worse than that."
His eyebrows flew up. "Worse?"
"I was the one they were still both talking to," she said dryly.
Sesshoumaru bit back a smile. "I see," he said gravely. "Exhausting."
"You can say that again."
Between the weeping, the hurt pride, the recriminations and unpaid bills, Kagome had been at her wits' end. All she had wanted was to find somewhere, anywhere, to live on her own once more.
That was when she had seen the advertisement. A reliable person was wanted to live in a South Tokyo house and care for the garden while the owner was abroad for three months. The house was a comfortable walk or a short bus ride from the school where she taught. She did not know anything about gardening but, heck, there was always the public library. It had seemed like the answer to a prayer.
Some of this she told him. She would have been surprised and annoyed if she had guessed how much she did not tell him that he still managed to piece together.
"Did Lasshe Hakuro take any references at all?" He sounded resigned.
Kagome shrugged. "She has a brother who takes jobs in Khirgistan at forty-eight hours' notice, an accident-prone son and a ball committee to chair. I got the impression she was glad to find anybody."
He nodded. "I'm sure she was. So---no references." He looked at her curiously. "Are you intending to stay there alone?"
"Yes," said Kagome firmly. She had more that enough of the complications sharing.
"Aren't you worried about the responsibility?" His glance managed not to be disparaging---but only just. "You're very young."
"Twenty-four," said Kagome hastily. "And, no, I'm used to responsibility.
"Twenty-four?" He was taken back. "You look younger."
Kagome frowned. She knew she looked younger. It worried her sometimes. On other occasion---like now---it just annoyed her. She pulled herself together and gave him her most confident smile.
"I can hack it."
He pursed his lips. "Ever been a householder before? All those squat. It doesn't sound very responsible."
"They weren't squats." Kagome was indignant. "And you have no idea how responsible I can be."
He gave a sudden laugh. "I hope so. We're a very responsible neighborhood. You're going to be the youngest resident by a generation."
That was what Lasshe Hakuro had said when she'd warned her about the neurotic millionaire. Kagome had been blithe. The housesitting job had seemed like a gift from heaven. At last her luck had changed, she'd thought.
And now here she was, sitting in the mad millionaire's sitting room opposite of someone who was showing every sign of trying to get her thrown out of her refuge. She was bruised, scratched and her dignity was in tatters. To say nothing of a deeper shock which she did not even want to think about until she was on her own.
Same old luck back again, Kagome thought. Was it even worth fighting back?
His lips twitched suddenly. "Too young. No experience. No stability. No references. I shall have to see to it myself, obviously. What's your name?"
Kagome jumped. "What's yours?" she retorted.
He gave her an odd look. "We are not discussing about me."
Kagome made up her mind. Fighting back was her only option.
"Nor me," she said pleasantly. She stood up. "I'm sorry if I did any damage when I fell over the wall. That's all I'm prepared to say. And now I'm going."
The man did not move. He did not try to dissuade her. Nor did he threaten her. He just looked at her.
Kagome found it unnerving. Especially as she had the feeling he was the sort of man people did not normally walk out on. He swung his foot and surveyed her thoughtfully.
"Goodbye," said Kagome again. It sounded childishly defiant.
He yawned. "How do you propose getting back into the Shiros' house?"
Kagome was disconcerted. She had not thought as far ahead as that. He smiled.
"More breaking and entering? Or do you happen to have a key about you person?"
He submitted her to a lazy inspection, which made Kagome realize exactly how thin and old her t-shirt was, and how very brief were her shorts. She stuffed a hand into her pocket in pure reflex action. But all it brought out was an unrecognizable handkerchief. She had been using it as a painting rap back in that other dimension of time, before she'd climbed the lilac tree and found herself face to face with an enemy.
The enemy's smile widened. (Ace: I reaaaaaaaaaly so want to see that. But every time I try to draw it, it looks funny, cuz not fluffy-like...but still looks cute :D ). "Not very practical, is it? he said gently.
Kagome lifted her chin. "I could go back the way I came."
"Not without my agreement," he pointed out. "Probably not without my help either.
Kagome's stomach lurched unexpectedly. The way he was looking at her reminded her that she had twigs in her hair and that grass cuttings clung to her long bare legs. And that he had touched them. And more.
Oh, no, she was not just face to face with the enemy. She had been in her arms. Going quietly wild. As he knew. As she would never, now, be able to forget he knew. Stranger though her was, he now knew things about her that nobody else did. Including one thing that Kagome had not even known herself until he touched her.
She wanted to scream with fury at the unfairness. She wanted to run and hide from the humiliation of it. She wanted to blot it out of her mind and go back to the time when it had not happened. None of that was possible.
Up to now she had been hanging on to moderation for all she was worth. Suddenly the effort was too much. All common sense, all humor left her.
She said in a low, deadly voice, "I don't want any help from you. Not now. Not ever.
