Fifty Words for Rain(98)

“And what do you think I want?”

“I imagine you want what all men want.”

He paused.

“Is that what you think of me?” he asked, and if she didn’t know better, she would have said he sounded disappointed . . . but in her, not in himself.

Instantly, she was awash with guilt. “I didn’t mean—”

“You wouldn’t think that if you knew me.”

“But I don’t know you! And you don’t know me! We’ve barely spoken!”

Noah scratched his chin. “Well, that is true.”

“So now you see,” she said hopefully, “why this must come to an end.”

He grinned at her. “Ten minutes.”

She blinked. “What?”

“Ten minutes. Spend ten minutes with me every evening for the next month. And then if you want me to leave you be, I will.”

She had all the power here. One word to Alice and he would be sent packing straight back to Cornwall.

“Why should I say yes?”

“You’re asking the wrong question. Why should you say no? What are you afraid of?”

She was immediately on the defensive. “I’m not afraid.”

Noah clapped his hands. “Good. So I’ll see you tonight.”

“B-but . . .”

“The library. Nobody ever goes in there. Say, ten o’clock?”

She stared at him, at a loss for words. He took that as an assent, winked at her, and walked away.

You stupid girl.

Look what you’ve done.



* * *





He was right about the library. Though it was clean, it still looked brand-new. It was not a lived-in room.

Like most things in Alice’s house, it was probably just for show.

Noah was seated in a plush high-backed armchair, with his hands folded across his lap. Though he had the face of a boy, she could see the ripple of his muscles underneath his shirt. He was sure with his hands, and she did not doubt that he was used to an honest day’s work.

He smiled at her. “You came.”

She sat across from him and crossed her ankles. “Ten minutes.”

He nodded. “Best get started, then. Where were you born?”

Nori shifted slightly. “I don’t know.”

He frowned, and she was immediately irritated that he’d managed to touch, with such a simple question, on how utterly dysfunctional her life had always been.

“How do you not know?” he asked softly, and his voice was free of judgment.

“My mother had me at home. There’s no record of it. We lived in an apartment . . . for a while. But I didn’t ask her. And then she left, and I was raised by my grandmother in Kyoto.”

Noah nodded. “I’ve heard gossip, of course. That you’re . . . that you’re, well . . .”

“A bastard,” Nori said clearly. “Yes. I am.”

Noah flushed. “I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“And you haven’t. It’s what I am.”

He looked unconvinced but decided to let it go. “And did you like Kyoto?”

She looked at her hands. “I didn’t see much of it from the attic.”

He looked at her, dumbstruck. “What? They kept you in the attic?”

“They did.”

“They can’t do that!” he burst. “You can’t keep a child in the attic.”

She laughed. “They can and they did.”

He went very pale. “But why? Surely you weren’t the only bastard in Japan.”

She showed him her arms. His eyes fell on the smooth skin, tanned to a coconut brown from all her time in the sun.

“Because of this,” she said simply.

“Your skin?”

“Yes.”

Noah looked at her with wide blue eyes. “But there’s nothing wrong with it.”

She wrapped her arms around herself. “My grandmother thought differently. She deemed it a mark of inferiority, a sign to the world that I had foreign, traitorous blood.”

“But you don’t?” he pressed. “You don’t give what she said any credence, do you?”

She moved to deny it, but the split second of hesitation gave her away. Before she could react, Noah was out of his chair and kneeling in front of her.

He ran his pale fingers over her arm, down to her hand. He flipped her palm over and pressed it against his. He radiated warmth, so much that it was almost uncomfortable.

“It was the first thing about you I noticed,” he confessed. “Smooth as a pearl, such a wonderful color.”

He looked into her shocked face.

“I think it’s beautiful.”

Her eyes welled with tears, and she took back her hand. He raised his face to hers, and she pulled away, stumbling out of her chair like it had been set on fire.

“And now your time is up.”

She rushed out of the room, but even as she lay in bed that night, she could do nothing to still the suddenly frantic beating of her heart.



* * *





Nori swore to herself that she would tell him nothing else about her past. During their nightly meetings, she sat in silence, with her face turned towards the wall like a stubborn child. But she always came. Her feet led her there every evening of their own accord.