Fire & Ice (4 page)

“Look behind you.”

She had expected to see a Japanese Good Humor Man on steroids, only to see a tiny object suction-cupped to the back window. It looked like a miniature portable shrine, accompanied by bells and a scrap of writing, and she unfastened her seat belt to snatch it off the window.

“It's a safe driving talisman,” Reno said, just before she grabbed it, and made a sudden sharp right turn in front of ten cars coming directly at him. She fell against him, his hard, strong body, and she swiftly pushed away from him, sitting back in her seat and refastening the seat belt with shaking hands. With Reno's driving and Tokyo traffic they were going to need all the luck they could get.

“Where are we going?”

“I'm taking you to Osaka. Kansai airport should be safer, and the sooner you get the hell out of Japan, the better. The Russians clearly haven't gotten wrord that their services are no longer required, and it's too much of a pain in the ass to keep you away from them.”

“Why do they even want me?”

“They don't,” he said in a flat tone. “You're just a means to an end. If they have you, Taka will have to come out of hiding. You're not important at all except for your relationship.”

“Great to know,” she said sarcastically. And what makes you think they won't come after me at home? Though I don't suppose that would be your problem—as long as you hand me off it's no longer your business. And I still don't understand why you're the one who came after me in the first place when you clearly have a problem with me. Why didn't you just refuse?”

“I wasn't ordered. I insisted. You don't understand Japanese traditions—whether I like it or not you now belong to our family, and family is protected.”

“Well, look at it this way. You send me back and it'll be up to someone else to keep the bad guys away.”

“Once they know there's no money, there'll be no incentive to come after you,” he snapped.

“And when will that be? They seem to be slow learners.”

He just looked at her. And then began swearing under his breath. At least she assumed it was swearing—she recognized the English obscenities and a few of the French, but her knowledge of Japanese curses was so far woefully small. Being around Reno, that was bound to improve.

“Sorry to be such a nuisance,” she said, trying to sound abject and failing. She still hadn't gotten past him hauling her naked out of the bath. “But I don't think Osaka and sending me home without protection is a wise idea.”

He only grunted, driving faster. He had an unfortunate tendency to make sudden, precipitous turns, and it almost seemed as if they were driving in circles. They probably were, just to make sure no one was following them. No matter what the reason, it was making her dizzy.

She closed her eyes, sliding down as well as she could in the small seat. “Wake me when we get there,” she said. And proceeded to ignore him and everything else.

Wake me when we get there
, Reno thought, gunning the motor.
Get where? I don't have a fucking clue where we're going. She was Tight — Osaka and an airplane home were out of the question.

He glanced over at the girl beside him. He wasn't going to think about it. He wasn't going to remember what her long, pale body looked like, dripping wet, even if the image was burned into his eyeballs. He wasn't going to think about the way she smelled, of sandalwood soap and water. He most definitely wasn't going to think about the way she felt, her sleek wet skin, the softness beneath the enveloping yukata. He wasn't going to think about anything but getting rid of her as fast as he could.

She was right, of course. The Russians might not have been aware of her existence before, but now that they knew, there was a good chance they wouldn't simply forget about her once he got her out of Japan. They didn't seem to be easily discouraged, which didn't make sense. Any soldier-for-hire worth his salt wasn't going to fight for principle or revenge. They killed for money, and with Thoma-son's death the money had dried up. But they seemed to be ignoring that simple fact. So who else could be paying them? Feeding them information?

For some reason Jilly was still prime bait, and the last thing he was going to do was appoint himself her private bodyguard.

He was going to need help, whether he wanted to admit it or not. And it was going to have to come from his grandfather—Peter and the Committee just didn't have the resources right now.

His grandfather's compound in one of the industrial areas of Tokyo was an armed fortress—no one could get to her there. He pulled the cell phone from his pocket and began texting, one eye on the road, one hand on the steering wheel. It was a good thing Jilly had decided to close her eyes, otherwise she'd probably be screaming at him.

God only knew what he saw in her. She was too big—almost as tall as he was, and while her body was the kind that filled his wet dreams she wasn't his type. He despised American women. He had a grudging affection for his cousin Taka's American wife, but in general he didn't like them. At least, not anywhere but in bed.

And he wasn't going to fuck Taka's sister-in-law. Not if he wanted to keep his balls.

The cell phone vibrated in his hand, an almost instant response.
Keep away from the compound—it was too dangerous. I'll find Taka. Head for the summer cottage in the mountains and wait for word.

He could do that. He was tired. He'd spent most of what was left of the night staring at her while she slept, watching the rise and fall of her breasts beneath the thin cotton.

He hadn't lied to her—he'd had the motherly innkeeper undress her. Once he'd carried her in, he hadn't touched her. It wasn't his fault if he'd been hoping she was a restless sleeper, tossing and turning so that the robe opened.

But she'd been utterly still, so still that for a while he'd wondered if he’d accidentally killed her, used a little too much pressure when he knocked her out.

Then Taka really would have killed him.

He'd been halfway across the small room on his knees, ready to touch her, just to make sure she was still alive, when she made a small sound, halfway between a sigh and a moan.

He froze, ready to jump her from the sheer sexuality of that sound, but instead he retreated back to his own futon, to sit and watch her as the morning light began to slip into the room. He was adept at self-control on the few occasions he chose to use it. This was one of those occasions. He wasn't going to touch her.

They were safe for the moment—he'd taken enough obscure detours to throw off a native, and the Russian mercenaries would be helpless in the complex road system that snaked through Tokyo. Once they were beyond the sprawling city he could relax, at least a little bit, while he figured out what the hell to do with her.

Maybe Ojiisan would get word to Taka and his troubles would be over. No way was Taka going to leave his wife's sister in Reno's uncharitable hands—they'd made sure Jilly and Reno had been kept a half a world away from each other since they'd met. He didn't think that was about to change. Not since Su-chan had laid down the law soon after she'd married Taka.

“I need you to do me a favor,” she'd said.

He’d looked at her. Summer Hawthorne was fearless, devoted to her husband, and Taka would beat the shit out of him if he showed her any disrespect. At least, any more than he dished out to everyone with the exception of his austere grandfather.

All right,” he'd said, bowing slightly out of habit.

Summer didn't look convinced. “You probably won't like it.”

“I try very hard not to do anything I don't want to do, but you saved my life, so I must owe you.”

“I want you to keep out of California.”

He said nothing for a moment, then,

“My grandfather has a number of important businesses all along the West Coast of your country, including real estate investments in and around L.A. I go where he sends me, and since I'm bilingual I'm the best choice, particularly with Taka out of the picture.”

“He could send someone else. And it's just the L.A. area I want you to keep away from.”

“Why?”

“My sister.”

“I don't remember your sister,” he said, a lie. But Su-chan was too anxious to notice.

“You saw her at Peter and Genevieve's house. She's tall, kind of awkward, blond hair when she isn't dyeing it. Her name's Jilly.”

“I remember,” he conceded, not showing how well he remembered. “What about her?”

“She wants to come visit, and I don't want her here.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

“You're the reason I don't want her here.” He didn't say anything, and she stumbled on. “She's got some silly adolescent crush on you. You've got to understand my sister has lived a very sheltered life. She's freakishly smart—she graduated from high school when she was fifteen, college when she was eighteen. She'd always been surrounded by people who were much older than she was, and she's never had the chance to develop normal relationships.”

“And what does that have to do with me?”

Su-chan bit her lip. “She has a crush on you. I don't know what you said to her or what happened in England—I was a little preoccupied
....
”

“You and Taka were all over each other—your sister and I could have been fucking in the garden and you wouldn't have noticed.”

Summer turned pale. “Did you?”

“Fuck in the garden? Fuck at all? No. As a matter of fact, I don't think we even talked before I got hustled out of there.”

Su-chan sighed. “You didn't need to. She took one look at you and lost all common sense. You shouldn't be surprised—you know you're catnip where women are concerned. They can't leave you alone.”

“Su-chan, if your sister has fallen in love with me, then it's not my fault.”

“She hasn't 'fallen in love,” she said crossly. “She's got a crush, that's all.”

“How do you even know that?”

“When she calls, she asks about you. She somehow managed to find a couple of pictures of you and has them as her computer wallpaper. Hell, she probably practices writing her name as Mrs. Jilly Reno.”

“You're not talking about a twelve-year-old,” he pointed out.

“Taka thinks I'm overreacting, too,” Summer said. “I know what you're like, and I wouldn't think of trying to change you. I just need you to keep away from my sister until she grows out of this.”

“No problem. I don't like American women and I don't like California.” That wasn't strictly true—he'd always liked Los Angeles the few times he'd visited. “How long do you think it'll take her to get over me?”

“Don't sound so self-satisfied. Teenage crushes are usually short-lived.”

“But your sister isn't a normal teenager, is she?” He still couldn't believe how young she'd been. He'd always had a preference for women at least a couple of years older than he was—more experience, less emotion. She was the oddest combination of young body, old soul. And he hadn't been able to take his eyes off her.

“She's twenty. And as long as you keep your distance, then everything will be all right. She's probably outgrown you by now, but I don't want to risk anything.”

“I'm not going to hurt your sister, Su-chan.”

“Reno, you hurt anyone who cares about you, and my sister is vulnerable. I don't want you breaking her heart.”

“I promise I won't go anywhere near her. I don't want to have a lovesick child hanging all over me any more than you do.”

She hadn't looked convinced, probably because Su-chan was a very smart woman, and she knew people. “You promise?”

He'd let out a sigh of resignation. “I promise. The last thing I want is someone thinking she's in love with me. I like my sex casual.”

She still didn't look happy. “No sex with Jilly,” she warned.

“No conversation, no getting within five thousand miles of her. You can trust me.”

And Su-chan had had no choice but to do so.

But that was before Russian mercenaries had been sent to kill them and anyone who mattered to them. Summer might have preferred if someone else had come to Japan to save her sister's life, but in the end it was her life that mattered, and Summer wouldn't be picky about who helped her. Besides, Reno was making sure Jilly was so annoyed with him that she'd never want to see him again. They'd worry about the rest of it once the Russians realized they were chasing a ghost mission.

In the meantime, they needed to disappear. His grandfather's summerhouse in the Saitama Prefecture would be perfect. It would be closed for the season, but there'd still be staff on call, just in case his austere grandfather decided he wanted a steaming mineral bath. Saitama was known for its hot springs and their restorative effects—known to cure cancer, increase a man's virility and promote long life—and his grandfathers trips had become more frequent. Maybe he was going for a shot of virility, but he doubted it. His grandfather looked old and frail. The man who'd seemed indestructible was suddenly looking mortal.

And the last thing Reno needed right now was a surge of virility. Jilly Lovitz was providing enough of a challenge when he was determined to keep his hands off her. He didn't need more stimulation.

It didn't help the way she looked at him, when she thought he wouldn't notice. He could get her on her back without half trying. As far back as he could remember he could have any woman he wanted, and Jilly was just one more.

He didn't want this one, and not just because Su-chan had asked him not to. Jilly Lovitz came with too many problems, too much baggage. He needed to dump her, fast. He was counting on Ojiisan to get Taka out of hiding long enough to take over. Taka could keep her safe from Russian mercenaries and stray assassins. And him.

They followed the rail line north. He wasn't sure whether she slept or just pretended to get out of talking to him. He didn't give a shit. He just wanted to get rid of her.

He stopped at one of the train stations and ran in to get a couple of their justly famous bento boxes. Jilly didn't open her eyes when he returned, so he set the packages on the backseat and took off again.

Three hours later they were climbing the narrow, twisting road that led to his grandfather's summerhouse. She'd woken up long enough to devour the contents of the bento box, all without a word of complaint. He'd thought the raw eel might stop her, and he was half tempted to encourage her with the wasabi, but she seemed to know her way around Japanese food.

“Aren't you going to eat?” she asked.

“When we get there,” he growled.

She was clearly unintimidated. “Get where? Or are we still driving in circles?”

He ignored her.

She poked him with her chopsticks. He was so astonished he almost veered off the narrow road.

“Don't do that!” he snapped.

“Don't annoy me,” she replied in a sweet voice. “Where are we heading?”

“An onsen belonging to my grandfather. A traditional bathhouse,” he explained when her forehead wrinkled in confusion.

“I think I've had enough of Japanese baths,” she said in a dry voice.

Not that he had any reason to explain further. “It's closed for the winter, and it's up in the mountains. No one will be able to find us. We'll wait there until Ojiisan gets in touch with Taka.” He glanced at her. She'd survived the wasabi—there was just a spot of it at the corner of her full mouth, and he had the sudden insane desire to lick it off. “You want to see your sister, right? That's why you came to Japan in the first place, isn't it?”

“I had a number of reasons,” she said.

“Seeing Summer was the main one, but I was planning on touring the country, doing a little research, taking care of some old business. At this point the research can wait—I just want to get home.”

He couldn't blame her. She wasn't used to running for her life.

Though, she'd had to do it once before, when she'd been kidnapped by a lunatic cult. But that had been a blip in her safe little American world. Still, she was handling it well enough.

She was like her sister in many ways—fearless, strong, adventurous. Most of the women he slept with would have been babbling hysterically by now. But Jilly had merely endured, even as she passed the dead bodies and escaped hired killers.