Loving Jiro (8 page)

Clawing her way to her feet, she braced herself for the news of just which man was still breathing. She was either a murderer or the cause of an innocent man being killed, someone whose only crime had been to be attracted to her. If Odell was alive, it might mean she was not free of him, probably never
would
be.

The living room was a disaster area. The space, only big enough for a love seat, now held that piece of furniture upside down. A flashback surged through her mind, of Odell shoving her over it to land flat on her back with him squeezing her by the neck. She shoved the thought aside.

Blood spattered the wall, and a bucket sat beneath it, but there was no sign of either Odell or Junior. She noticed the side door stood open, and beyond it a car was parked a few inches away. That area was not a driveway, and some ridiculous thought hit her that her neighbor's wife would have a fit tomorrow morning because of her smashed flowerbed. But where would she be? In jail?

The Japanese man who worked for Jiro stepped inside carrying trash bags. “Ms. Jackson,” he began.

She rubbed her hands along her thighs, only now realizing she was still in her stained nightgown. “I just wanted to know which man is alive, and which is d-de..."

He dug around in his shirt pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook. She had the feeling he didn't really have to look at his notes. He knew just what had been going on in her life. The feeling that nothing was private was terrifying. “Odell Boyd, alive."

Kiara's knees crumbled. She hit the floor hard, her face scraping the carpet. Probably with the same lack of emotion he announced everything else, the man moved over top her, grasped her around the waist and carried her against his hip into the bedroom. He deposited her on the bed. At the door, with his hand on the knob, he said, “Please stay here until Fuschida-san arrives."

She had no choice. She couldn't find the energy to roll over, let alone get up.

Jiro arrived with efficiency and authority. He had a woman with him, making Kiara wonder if he had found a girlfriend who would stick awhile. But he offered no introduction except to tell Kiara the woman's name. Five minutes after she heard it, she couldn't recall what he had said it was.

"Kiara.” He touched her cheek when she had nodded off after he began to talk to her. “Wake up for a moment. We have to settle some things, and then I will let you rest. I promise."

She stared up at him, wondering what he thought of how she looked. Night after night, she dreamed of seeing him again, seeing desire in his eyes when he saw her. His expression was impassive.

"After you get cleaned up and dressed, we'll leave here and go to a hotel. You'll sleep as long as you want. When you wake up, I'll arrange for you to get something to eat. Then you'll have a few decisions to make. Is that clear?” He had said it all gently and with understanding in his tone, but it still seemed like a command. Her mind wasn't working properly.

He nodded as if she had agreed, stood and crossed to her bedroom door. He and the woman spoke in Japanese before he left her there, closing the door behind him.

Kiara blinked at the woman. She offered a shy smile and crossed the room to pull Kiara's nightgown over her head.

"What are you doing?” Kiara mumbled.

The woman didn't answer. She tossed the nightgown away and twisted to grab a washcloth in a basin of warm sudsy water, Kiara hadn't noticed before. Very methodical, she washed Kiara and then helped her into clean clothes. After she had helped her brush her teeth, the woman picked up her supplies and left the room.

A moment later, Jiro came back in to the room. He smiled and stroked her hair. “Ready to go?"

"As ready as I will ever be. She swallowed. “Jiro, what are you going to do with Junior? Did you call the police? This has to be reported."

"Leave everything up to me. Your task is to rest and to recover."

Kiara figured she wouldn't sleep a wink, but after she had drank down the warm milk Jiro had given her as if she were a child, she had dropped off to sleep. Now, in the early morning sunshine, she wouldn't be surprised to learn that he had drugged it to knock her out.

She had just finished dressing, when a knock sounded at her hotel room door. Upon opening it, she found Jiro standing in the hall with a waiter and a covered cart beside him. Gesturing for them to enter, she turned away.

When the waiter had finished setting up breakfast, Jiro pulled out a chair at the table in the corner for her to sit down. “Have something to eat. I'm told you were ill before I arrived. You must be starving."

She hesitated. Here was a man completely different from Odell. She imagined he would not dream of having a woman take care of him, pay his bills. Jiro would consider himself the most dishonorable of men not to see to the needs of the women in his life.

Instead of sitting down, she stood where she was, lost in thought. “Before I got involved with Odell, I was independent. I knew early on that my cousin resented having to take care of me, so the first chance I got to get away and stand on my own two feet, I took it. Money my parents left me went to my getting my Bachelors degree in fine arts. I did okay with that for a while."

Tears filled her eyes, and she tried her best to blink them away only to have them flood her lids and spill down her cheeks. “First I had to work like a dog for nothing because Odell took away everything, including my dignity. And now you want me to depend on you. Admit it!"

He strode over to her, took her hand and guided her to the table. “What I want you to do is eat something, even if it's only a small bit of egg.” He poured out a half glass of orange juice and sat it in front of her. “I want to you drink this. It's delicious, fresh-squeezed without pulp.” He smiled.

Only the rich.

Glancing pointedly at her plate, he dipped his head forward. “And then we will talk."

She would never win. There was no use trying to fight against him. Resolute, she filled her plate. Jiro had been right of course. Not only was the juice delicious, so was everything else she sampled. And before she knew it, her belly was full. She had been more hungry than she realized. When she finally placed her fork beside her plate and wiped her mouth with her napkin, Jiro nodded in satisfaction.

"I want you to know, Kiara, that whatever decision you make today, I will honor your wishes.” He compressed his lips a minute before speaking again. She got the impression the one decision she might make that he didn't like, was a hard one for him to swallow. “I will do whatever you ask. However, I want you to be sure that you will have no regrets."

She started. “Regrets? So you expect me to ask you to kill Odell, since he didn't die from me hitting him over the head?"

"That is merely one possibility."

"And the others?"

"You could go back to your present life, working in that diner where you were.” She gasped, but he continued. “As all the other failed attempts, you could try to start somewhere new, expecting that he won't find you. And yet he does."

A shiver ran through her, and her tears threatened to start up again. She waited silently, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She wouldn't have know what to say at that point anyway. Better to just sit and listen to what he had to offer. Asking him to kill Odell was most certainly off the table. Wasn't it?

"Another option might be...” He cleared his throat. “Another might be if you were to become my mistress. I would take care of you. You would live on my property and be guarded by my men. This would entail a complete removal from the lifestyle that Odell is used to finding you in. We move in vastly different circles. In essence, you would be safe from him forever."

His mistress!
In truth, she couldn't have expected more than that. They hadn't known each other long, and the only sure thing between them was that they were sexually attracted to one another. She let her gaze roam over his taut muscles, clearly defined after he had removed his jacket. A woman could lose herself in a man as strong—as magnetic—as Jiro. That's what she was so terrified of.

Still, unreasonably, she felt insulted at the suggestion, like she wasn't worth anything more than that position in his life.

Jiro seemed to read her mind. “It's not that I don't care enough for you to make you more than my lover, but it's wise for us both to take it slower than that. Under normal circumstances, we would date, but you need my protection. I have an estate, several in fact, where you can live. Ayumi lives there also and a few others in my family's employ."

"What would your family think about it?"

"It's not uncommon to have mistresses, although most of the time, they live somewhere else or in one of the smaller houses, not in the main house.” His lips pressed into a straight line, determination entering his expression. “You will be—are—different."

"Says you.” She sighed. These people were out of her league, even Ayumi. Their money allowed them to live a life she could not even dream of. His description of his estate made her think of the show on TV she used to watch when it first debuted called Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. And would his grandfather also be there, a man she imagined was steeped in traditions. What kind of slap in the face would Jiro be giving the old man bringing home a black woman to live in his house?

Yet, this was her only option. She could not give an order to kill Odell even if she did wish he was dead. That would make her a killer. She gasped, remembering Jiro's profession. Her stomach churned, and the food she had just downed felt like it was coming back up.
I'm in negotiations to give away my body to a cold-blooded killer.
Even as she thought it, she knew she would do it. She would give herself to Jiro. Just the thought excited her, made her wish she was lying with him right now, in bed.

She parted her lips in a soft gasp, and a thrill hit her seeing that Jiro noticed. He was affected also. Maybe he was praying she would decide on being his mistress. How could she live with this? This decision too meant possible regrets, turning her head when she knew he was off on an assignment to murder someone. And opening her arms and her bed to him when he returned. It was all too much, too unreal.

"All roads lead to...” She didn't finish the sentence. There was no point. “Okay, I've made my decision,” she told him quietly. “I will be your lover."

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They arrived late, too late to see Ayumi awake. No more than the housekeeper greeted them, who seemed a little gruff. If Kiara's eyes widened any more at the decor, they would pop. For all their money, and even living in America for so long, the house was decorated in traditional Japanese styles, simplistic yet tasteful. She marveled at the rice paper lamps and Shoji screens. Paintings and tapestries on the walls showed the Zen brushstroke to which she would have drifted over to if Jiro hadn't caught her, and turned her back toward the hall leading to her room.

"Tomorrow,” he told her. “I promise, I will take you on the grand tour. “Tonight, we get to know one another."

She shivered, knowing what he alluded to. The hour being late, she hadn't expected to jump right into bed with him the second they hit the door, but just as he must feel, she couldn't wait to get her hands on his body. Ever since she had agreed to this arrangement, she had had visions of Jiro naked, wondering if his body was as hot as she thought it was.

Not that she wasn't nervous. She was terrified. For three years, she had been told she was unattractive, too skinny and her boobs weren't enough to get a man up. The thought of having come all this way only to find Jiro wasn't attracted to her was a real fear.

He led her to her bedroom and stepped in behind her. “This is your room. Mine is down the hall and around the corner."

She blinked. “You're saying we have separate rooms, not even near each other?” She had glimpsed the end of the hall as they approached her bedroom. It was a long way off. She could only imagine how long the second hall was.

"You don't always want me in your bed. Hmm? During your woman's time?"

Thinking about it, she realized what he meant. Her period. His ways were different. Surely, a husband and wife didn't have separate rooms. Would she and Jiro, if they were married? She decided not to ask.

When she said nothing, he pulled her close and lifted her chin. “I have wanted to kiss you for a long time. Seems like forever.” His mouth touched hers in the gentlest of kisses. She melted against his body, savoring his hard strength.

Soon, his tongue pushed between her lips. He slid a hand down to her rear and squeezed. Lifting her high and tight against him made her rise to her tiptoes. With his mouth on hers, he pushed her head back to deepen the kiss. He devoured her mouth, moaning hungrily and squeezing her so much, she became afraid.

She struggled in his arms, shoving at his chest. Finally breaking the kiss, she turned her head. “Please stop. Let me go."

He put her down and stepped back, but he didn't remove his hands from her arms. “I didn't mean to make you afraid. I never want you to think I would hurt you. But..."

Her gaze flew to his. “But?"

He brushed her lips with his thumb and then her cheek. He moved away, clasping his hands behind his back as he stared out into the dark night past her window. “I need you to understand what being my lover means."

We have sex. Isn't that it?

Running his hands over his bare head, he sighed heavily. “We've come a long way, Kiara. My people. But being my mistress means you are here to please me. Entirely and in every way.” He turned to face her. She had the feeling he wasn't laying it out quite as much as he needed her to understand. Again, he brushed her cheek in a caress that made her shiver. She longed for him. His hand moved down to the collar of her blouse. “Take off your clothes."

His words were gentle, but they were also a command. Like a bucket of cold water thrown over her head, she knew instantly what he had been trying to say. She belonged to him, and she ... or rather he ... could not allow her fears to get in the way of her pleasing him.