Loving Jiro (10 page)

The instructor who had followed them into the room said something that made Ayumi turn beet red. Kiara wondered what was going on, but no one was speaking English. She thought for a people who valued custom, they should have at least shown common courtesy. She guessed it was their house. They could speak any way they wanted."

Tears filled Ayumi's eyes, and she turned to Kiara. “Grandfather hasn't had his breakfast yet. You must leave the room until he is finished. Do not speak directly to him. He doesn't think there will be anything for you to say to him, but if ever you need to, you should find a servant who will speak for you."

Kiara stared. Of all the houses Jiro said he owned, he had brought her to the one where his grandfather lived, a man who thought she was beneath him being his grandson's mistress. Fighting her own tears, and wanting nothing more than to tell the old prune off, she shoved back her chair to stand.

With her head held high, she stomped to the door. Her stomach growled its protest, but she ignored it. Hearing a clink of dishes, she turned in time to see the servant cleaning up the place setting although she had not even touched it. She did cry then and ran in the general direction of her room.

As she ran, tears blinding her, somewhere behind her she heard Ayumi yell, “Get out of my way. I'm going to find my brother. He should know Ms. Kiara is upset."

Kiara barreled into her room and slammed the door behind her. She looked around for her suitcase, thinking this whole situation was a mistake. At least she had had one night with Jiro. That was something to keep her warm on cold nights, if not to fill her lonely heart.

Her stomach growled again. She slapped at it. “Just shut up. Who knows when you'll get any food in you. Besides, we're used to it."

The door opened, and Jiro stood in the doorjamb. Her heart, which had been beating fast since she had run down the hall a minute ago, kicked up another notch. He looked good enough to eat. A flash of their activities from the night before went through her mind. She wondered how often he liked to have sex and tamped down the thought.

He crossed his arms. “Where are you going?"

"I...” She frowned. “I don't know, but my self-esteem isn't so low that I will take the kind of treatment I just got. I'll find something. I always do."

"I don't want you to leave."

She could have growled at him like a wild animal, but didn't. “Of course you don't want me to. You want to continue to use my body for your pleasure. Convenient cootchie, ready and waiting."

His eyebrows rose at her choice of words, and she turned away. He walked up behind her. “You enjoyed it as much as I did,” he whispered, squeezing her butt and reminding her of last night.

A moan escaped her lips before she could catch herself. “Whether I did or didn't is beside the point. Are you honestly going to stand there and ask me to accept that your grandfather treated me like gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe? Like gum he was too good to scrape off?"

He tugged the pants she had been folding and refolding from her fingers and turned her to face him. Tucking her body close to his, he pressed her head down on his shoulder. “I'm saying what you and I have is between us, not my grandfather. Just as I explained last night, or attempted to, we are what we are."

Gently, he stroked her hair until she felt like crying. Instead she muffled her emotions, trying to focus on his words.

"I cannot change my grandfather. I can only help you to adjust easier.” He bent to kiss her lips. She turned her head and moved out of his arms.

"So you'll let him get away with treating me like that?” She stuffed the rest of her clothing into her suitcase and shut it.

Before she could do any more, he took her hands. “Don't go, Kiara. I always want you to do just what you feel is best for you. I will not pressure you to make the decisions I want. But..."

"But what?” She was still angry, but she longed for him to make some type of declaration about his feelings for her. Something told her hell would freeze over before he did that. She was after all just a mistress, never a real girlfriend or potential wife. She sank down to the bed on that thought.
Never a potential wife
.

He squatted in front of her. “Stay."

She looked into his eyes, so sexy, so tender. How could that be? She expected an apology if not from his grandfather, then from him. Yet she wouldn't get it. He would not apologize for who he was, who his family was. As he had said, the choice was hers to be his mistress, a choice that seemed limited from the start.

She wanted to rail and fuss about how he expected her to respect his culture, but what about hers? She was an American woman, and everyone knew they were on equal standing with any man, from anywhere. Every woman around the world should feel the same about herself. That fact didn't change Jiro and his family.

While she sat thinking it over, someone knocked on the door and Jiro called for them to enter. A servant rolled a cart into the room. Before he removed the covering, Kiara smelled bacon and sausage. Her stomach rumbled. The entire two shelves of space on the cart were covered with different breakfast foods, from eggs to pastries. She tried not to salivate.

The servant bowed and left the room. Jiro kissed both of her hands and crossed to dress a plate with various foods. Kiara didn't move, but her eyes grew wide when he offered the plate to her. “I know you must be hungry."

Tears started up again. She ducked her head, took the plate with a murmured “thanks” before tucking into the food. He sat down beside her watching but saying nothing. Kiara ignored him.

She still didn't know what she would do. Now that she had a chance to think about it, where would she go? She had no money. All of a second she considered asking Jiro for enough money for her to move out of state, but even if he did, what would stop Odell from tracking her? She could change her name. Well ... if she had whatever contacts were needed to do that with no paper trail.

I could ask Jiro to kill Odell.

The thought shocked her, made her drop her fork with a clatter on her plate. Her hands shook. “Jiro, you could ... could...” The words refused to move past her tongue. As much as she
wished
Odell was dead, she couldn't ask another to make it happen.

He seemed to know what she had been about to say and stroked her cheek. “Even had you been able to say what I think you were about to, I wouldn't."

Her eyes widened. “Why not? You said you would do what I asked."

"Because you haven't moved past regret. You would resent me for doing it and never forgive yourself for asking me to. If the time comes that you are strong enough to handle it, then I will."

"How do I know you haven't already?” He took a long time to answer. Panic rose in her stomach.

"I would rather not say."

She gasped and jumped up from the bed. Terror filled her that he could want to kill her at some point in the future. She yanked her suitcase from the bed, but hadn't sealed it properly so everything fell in a heap on the floor. “I have to get out of here."

"Kiara..."

Dropping everything, she bolted for the door, and skittered out into the hall. A servant who had been walking along, darted aside as she careened past him.

Ahead, Ayumi bounced from a room along the hallway. “Ms. Kiara, are you feeling better? You want to go for a walk on the grounds with me? I'll show you—"

Kiara didn't stop. “I'm sorry, Ayumi,” she called out.

Jiro's steps sounded in the hall behind her. “Kiara, wait. Let me explain."

She kept going. The front door came into view. She picked up speed. Before she knew it the door was open and she launched herself though it, only to land in strong arms. The man whose eyes she looked up into was confused. Instead of speaking to her, he looked over her and spoke to Jiro coming up behind her.

Kiara struggled in the man's hold, but his grip might as well be steel for all she could budge his fingers from her arm. “Am I your prisoner now, Jiro?” she demanded.

He visibly changed from the familiar lover when they were alone, to the man all business in public. She found that she hated that look. He clasped his hands together behind his back, and uttered something to the man holding her.

She was ushered inside and the door closed behind her. Kiara swallowed the humiliation she felt, standing rigid in the lobby. Servants came and went, casting curious glances her way. Jiro turned to walk toward what she found was his study, and the man brought her along with him.

Soon the two of them were left alone, probably with the man who had forced her into the office, off to tell his buddies about it so they could laugh together about the silly black woman who thought she could get away from the Fuschida family. She felt like the biggest fool around. Jiro didn't care about her. She was a body he was interested in owning, for the time being. She just wanted to know what he intended to do with her once his desire cooled.

Jiro positioned himself on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. Kiara stood before him, waiting for his explanation.

"You are not my prisoner,” he began. “You can leave here any time you want—"

"I just tried."

"In the proper way, with arrangements made for your mode of travel, where you will live and your clothes packed.” He dropped his arms. “But I want you to stay, Kiara. I can take care of you."

"And what if I don't want to be taken care of?” She frowned. “I asked you before. What if I want to get a job? How about that?"

He sighed, brushed a hand across his brow and glanced around the room as if he was looking for inspiration to deal with this difficult woman. “A woman under my protection cannot work. It would be an insult to myself and my family."

"What!” She stared at him. “Plenty of Japanese women work. Your family is living in the dark ages! And you have servants here working, the housekeeper for one. Your cook is female."

"I said a woman under my protection,” he snapped, becoming impatient with her. He took a few calming breaths, but his intense gaze never left hers. She fidgeted. She had never seen him angry, and was nervous. Even the time he rescued her from the kidnappers, she hadn't seen him angry. As soon as he took her in his arms, he had been tender. She closed her mind to the thought.

"So you killed Odell?"

"I beat him to within an inch of his life, but unfortunately, he is still alive.” He looked down at the knuckles of his right hand and rubbed them. Kiara took a step back. Jiro's gaze flew to hers. He closed the space between them in two strides, to pull her into his arms. He lifted her chin to kiss her lips. “Stay, Kiara. Don't leave me."

As terrified as she was, she couldn't go. Maybe she had become like the women who ran back to the abuser. But Jiro hadn't hurt her in any way. Hopefully, that would remain true for the duration of their time together. “Okay, I will,” she whispered. “For now."

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"Kiara, do you like it here?” Ayumi asked her while they walked along the tree-lined paths of her family's property. She had given the girl permission to call her simply Kiara when they were in private, and Ayumi used it every chance she got.

Kiara smiled. She had been in residence for three months, and while it wasn't the ideal situation, especially when she and Ayumi both were somewhat depressed when Jiro had to go out of town on business, it was the safest she had ever felt in her life. “This is like living on constant vacation,” she admitted. “As long as I keep out of sight of your grandfather."

Ayumi rolled her eyes. “Yes, I'm really sorry about how he treated you when you first came. Sometimes, it makes me angry how our ways are. I'm not supposed to have too much exposure to the western way of doing things because Grandfather thinks it will corrupt me. But I've seen that women aren't treated out there,"—she gestured toward the gates leading off the property—"as they are here. We live in our own world, and it's not right."

"You've apologized enough for the entire family.” Kiara laughed. “Jiro is good to me. He never raises his voice, never hurts me in any way. That is priceless."

Her companion gave her sidelong look. Kiara knew that expression. Only ten, having had her birthday a couple weeks back, Ayumi was wise beyond her years. She knew without being told that Kiara had been abused, and that she still had a problem with Jiro's line of work.

They walked on in silence, Kiara lifting her face to the warm sunlight. Birds chirped and leaves rustled at a slight breeze. Despite whatever reservations still lurked inside her, she couldn't help the anticipation she felt inside. Jiro would be back tonight from his latest trip, in time for some type of function. Ayumi always called them family get-togethers, but from what Kiara had gleaned, more than family would be present. Either way, Jiro would no doubt be in her bed again. She had missed him more than she wanted to.

"Kiara?"

"Hmm?"

Ayumi hesitated. “I understand how you might feel suffocated by the rules the men in my family put on you."

A warning went off in Kiara's head. “How so?"

"Well...” She glanced around, then took Kiara's hand to pull her off the path. They picked their way through the trees to a small clearing with a bench in its center. Had Ayumi not brought her here, she would not have known it existed. The trees were so thick, that no one could see in until they pushed their way through to it. “I discovered this place after I found out my mother was killed."

Kiara gasped. “You were only four years old."

She nodded. “I know, and I didn't really understand what was going on. Jiro-san said she wouldn't be back, that she had gone to rest with our ancestors, to watch over me. I was so mad at him for saying that. Someone left the door open, and I ran and ran.” She stroked the bench seat like an old friend. “My face was all scratched, but I found this place. It's a safe hideout for me. Maybe my mom led me here. She comforted me, and I fell asleep. After a long time, Jiro-san found me and took me home. That night he promised he would always take care of me, no matter what. I know now that it was also when he decided to become an assassin."