InuYasha Fan Fiction ❯ A Kiss to Remember ❯ Chapter One ( Chapter 1 )

A Kiss to Remember

 

Note: This story is based on a book by Jane Anne Krentz called A Coral kiss and a few scenes are coming straight from the book but with changes because I love them so much and I thought this story would be so cute with Inuyasha characters.

 

Disclaimer: I do not own Inuyasha or anything by Jane Anne Krentz

 

Chapter 1

 

He had no right to make the call and he knew it. But he had dialed the number, so it was too late to hang up, even if he managed to convince himself that he should. She was supposed to be his friend and tonight he needed a friend.

 

With grim concentration necessitated by the pain pills he had been gulping for the last several hours, Sesshoumaru lean his head against the gleaming payphone, closed his eyes and listened to the ringing on the other end of the line. He couldn't remember ever feeling this bad in his life. He was hurt, utterly exhausted, and his mind wasn't functioning anywhere near its normal level of awareness.

 

Everything around him seemed to be loud and annoying. He couldn't even tune out the inconsequential. The constant background noise of the busy L.A. airport terminal was grating on his nerves. He couldn't seem to think straight because of the incessant chatter of the travelers, the roar of the engines, and the smell of fast food and fuel was sinking into his nervous system. Sesshoumaru knew the pain pills probably amplified the uncomfortable effect, but the knowledge didn't help.

 

He tried to concentrate more intently on listening to the phone-one ring, two ring, three. Maybe she wasn't home. Kami, for all he knew, she was with another man.

 

Not tonight, he thought as he gripped the receiver a little more tightly in effort to steady himself. Don't let there be anyone else there tonight.

 

He sought reassurance by reminding himself that Kagome hadn't seemed interested in any other man during the three months of their acquaintance. Not that she was all that interested in him, Sesshoumaru though wryly - except, of course, as a friend. Sesshoumaru found himself praying that she hadn't turned up any other friends during the few weeks that he had been gone.

 

She answered the phone in the middle of the fourth ring. Sesshoumaru felt relief wash through him with a more comforting effect than his little white pills had had. He wondered why he had been so worried. Kagome was always home at night. Lately, when he was on assignment, Sesshoumaru had found himself taking an obscure kind of comfort in that knowledge. He could close his eyes anytime and picture her sitting home alone in the evenings, perhaps curled up with on the couch in her living room reading one of her favorite books.

“Kagome? It's Sesshoumaru.”

 

“Sess! Good grief, it's midnight. Where are you? Are you home?”

 

He heard the welcome in her clear, warm voice. Sometimes Sesshoumaru thought it was Kagome's voice he started thinking about first when he was headed home. He lifted his lashes with an effort and found himself looking at the reassuring symbol of AT&T. Some things, at least were constant in the universe-Kagome's voice and the AT&T.

 

“I'm in L.A. My plane gets into Monterey in an hour and a half.” His fingers tightened on the receiver. “Kagome, I hate to ask, but can you meet me?”

 

“Meet you?”

 

Maybe she was with another man there. Sesshoumaru shook off the sudden, tight anger that materialized out of nowhere. It must be the pain pills, Sesshoumaru told himself. He had no right allowing himself to react to the possibility of Kagome being with another man. He had no claim on her, just as she had no claim on him. They were friends. Their friendship might be odd, and unlike any he had ever know before in his life, but it was still a friendship. That was all Kagome seemed to want.

 

“Kagome, if you are busy …” He let the sentence trail into nowhere, unwilling to let her off the hook completely unless he was forced to do so. He wanted her at the airport - no he needed her there. He had to get home tonight and he was almost certain he couldn't drive. The pills, pain and exhaustion were hitting him too hard.

 

“No, Sess, I'm not busy. I can meet you. Hang on a second while I grab a pen.” She was back on in an instant. “Okay, give me the flight number.”

 

“”Flight number,” Sesshoumaru repeated a little helplessly. “Yeah, just a second.” Of course there was a flight number. What the hell was the matter with him? His brain had apparently shut down. He grouped for the ticket envelop in his shirt pocket. He stared down at the numbers for a few seconds before it made sense. The, very carefully, he read it aloud to her.

 

With relief, he now realized that the surprise he had at first heard in her voice wasn't a prelude to refusing to meet him. Kagome was really surprised at being asked to meet him. Her reaction was perfectly understandable. Never in the past three months had he asked her to meet him at the airport. He had always rented a car and driven back to Caliph's Bay from Monterey. His homecoming routine was just that: routine. He rarely violated his own rituals. When a man reached a point where he didn't pay attention to his past or future, he found himself dependent on his own little rules.

 

“All right, Sess, I've got it. I'll be there.”

 

“Thanks, Kagome. I'll see you in a while.”

“There was a small pause before her sweet, warm voice asked hesitantly, “Sess? Is anything wrong?”

 

Sesshoumaru looked down at the cane he was gripping in his left hand. He didn't feel like attempting casual explanations over the phone. He would work on them on his flight back to Monterey. He was good at doing that sort of thing. Every man was blessed with one or two talents, and inventing convincing explanations with his. “No, nothing's wrong. I just thought it might be tough to get a rental car this late at night. Drive carefully Kagome.”

 

After they had said goodbye, Sesshoumaru hung up the phone. Then, gathering his strength with an effort of sheer willpower, he pushed himself away from the phone and, using his cane to brace himself, made his way back to the flight lounge. Halfway there, he saw the flower cart. Something clicked in his fogged brain.

 

He had formed the small habit of presenting her with flowers when he returned from his trips. He did it partly as a thank you for the questions she never asked and partly as an apology for the answers he never offered. Another ritual.

 

Sesshoumaru made his way over to the cart and bought a bouquet of white roses, so perfect that they looked almost plastic. They weren't really Kagome's kind of flower, there was nothing plastic about her, but he didn't have much choice. He cradled the carefully as he finished the trek to the waiting lounge.

 

He almost went to sleep waiting for the boarding call. When it came, he roused himself enough to follow the other passengers aboard. A few minutes late, seatbelt fastened and with the white roses stowed alongside his thigh, he did go to sleep. But not before he had a last, anticipatory image of Kagome Higurashi waiting for him in Monterey.

 

She would be easy to spot in the crowd, if there was one at this hour of the night, Sesshoumaru thought. Although she wasn't particularly tall, Kagome was more than particularly lovely. With her intelligent, deep blue eyes, long, raven black hair and full soft lips, she had one of the most beautiful faces he had ever seen. Sesshoumaru knew that other women spent hours on make up trying to emulate her flawless porcelain skin, but Kagome never wore any make up. She seldom ever bothered dressing up. Her body was slender, but womanly at the same time. She was petite but had long legs and perfect proportions, or they seemed perfect from what he had seen. She didn't possess thoroughbred elegance or pin-up voluptuousness, yet somehow, to Sesshoumaru her beauty was so vivid. She reminded him of the heroines on the covers of the science fiction books she wrote - all bright colors, a promise of excitement and a barely controlled nervous energy.

 

The fantasy of tapping into that energy in bed had been plaguing Sesshoumaru with increasing frequency.

 

Tonight the fantasy was stronger than ever, in spite of the effects of the pain pills, or perhaps because of them. Ever since he had met Kagome Higurashi, Sesshoumaru had found himself letting her structure the odd relationship that had begun to develop between them. What Kagome had chosen to build was a delicate web of companionship, a loose friendship from which the sexual element was plainly missing. On the handful of occasions they had spent together during the past three months, Kagome had seems entirely satisfied with the situation. Sesshoumaru was wondering how much longer he could tolerate it. But the last thing he had wanted to do was push her.

 

But Sesshoumaru had another reason for allowing the relationship to continue as it was. The last thing he needed was a clinging woman who would begin to ask question his frequent and extended absences, his lack of plans for the futures and his reasons for having reached his min-thirties without having married. Once a man started sleeping with a woman on a regular basis, the woman usually felt she had a right to questions about things like that.

 

Sesshoumaru told himself he didn't need questions - or a woman who asked them - in his life. Kagome would be easy to handle as long as she didn't probe. Unfortunately, he was beginning to crave her in a way that could no longer tolerate simple friendship. Sooner or later the situation was going to explode. Sesshoumaru wasn't at all sure what the results would be when it did.

 

His last conscious thought before he left himself be taken by sleep was a vague curiosity about Kagome's reaction when she saw him limp off the plane. When he had left almost a month before, he had had no cane and no injuries to explain. Even a woman who normally never asked awkward questions was bound to wonder what happened. He ought to get working on the cover story he planned to tell her.

 

Sesshoumaru let sleep take over and his body sagged against the left side of his seat, the perfect roses squashed into a crumpled white mess.