Free Attraction by Linn Young

a slight relish in the
way he sank his teeth into the bread.
“Like I said, I very much care for your sister,” he said smoothly, washing the bread down
with his wine. “The most important thing to me is her happiness. And I hope that it is as well for
you, too.”
Riley drummed her fingers on the table. “You know, I’m ashamed to say that I’m the
type who, when picking up a new book, reads the ending of the book first before she decides to
read it or not. It always seemed strange to me that that was blasphemous to those lover of books,
but it always seemed sensible to me. After all, how a book ends largely tells a potential reader
just how much she should invest in it.”
Heron gave her a smile, which was more of showing his white teeth than conveying any
warmth or humor. “Now that I’m marrying Roberta, of course, my first concern is her future
happiness. Her future happiness with me largely depends on both our ability to have our
marriage be enfolded in the community of my family, relatives, and friends. And part of that
enfoldment depends on our ability to come to a certain understanding..”
Riley shook her head. “Isn’t is fascinating how life is just one long unending chain? One
thing in life depends on another, which depends on another, and so on, and so on.”
“I’m largely at the whim of your favor.”
Riley leaned closer towards him, her light gray hazel eyes almost friendly. “That’s
bullshit. You’re the last man to let yourself be in a position where your fate has strings that can
be pulled by another.”
“Normally, that is true. But when you fall in love, self-determination, I’m afraid, is
subordinated.”
“That is so sweet. Did you get that from a Hallmark’s card?”
Heron gave an icy smile. “You can take this just so far.”
“Ah, there is it is. As much as you’re trying to impress me that you’re thoroughly
civilized, don’t’ bother. Not with me, at least.”
A brief break in the deadly sparring was forced on them when Francois arrived with their
meals. After getting the dishes in front of them, he set down between them a small vial of olive
oil and tiny bowl that contained shaved parmesan.
Francois looked a little uneasy from one to the other. He knew both were hardly aware of
him, each keeping his or her eye on the other. He imagined that each was assessing the weakest
points in the other into where they could thrust their foil once his back was turned.
“Will there be anything else,” he asked carefully.
Heron barely gave him a glance. “No. Thank you. That will be all.”
After Francois took his leave, without preamble, he smoothly picked up their exchange
where they had left it. “Fine. Then, let me be blunt about all this. I have concerns about your
business and what it means to your sister once she is married to me.”
“Concerns?”
“Not so much the bar and dance club. Those I can accept. It is your sex club that I have
deep concerns about.”
Riley stiffened, her face turning cold as she waited for him to continue, sipping at her
soup.
“Running a sex club is a bit unusual, wouldn’t you agree? It’s not exactly the normal,
accepted method of livelihood.”
Still, she kept quiet but watched him, and continuing to sip her soup. She watched him
slice into a succulent roll of yellowtail tuna that was soaked in olive oil and bite into it. She had
had ordered the dish one or two times, and knew how it would taste. It would be very tender, the
meat dense as most raw fish are, the taste buttery with a slight sweetness to it. If Heron had not
forced her to meet during her sleep hours, but after she had her full eight hours, she might have
ordered the yellowtail, as well. It would have been perfect for her as a meal as it was for him, as
they were engaged in a rather savage tearing of each other’s metaphoric flesh.
Heron put down his utensils and wiped his mouth with the cloth napkin. “I think you
have a pretty good idea of the position that my family holds