Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)(51)
“Does it bother you that I don’t have a clue what I’m doing?” Azami asked, as candid as ever.
“Men tend to be very proprietary over their women, Azami. I’m quite happy being the only man you ever know intimately. In any case, I know enough for both of us. Trust me, honey, we have nothing to worry about in that department.”
She gave him a lopsided smile. “You’re so certain, Sam.”
He leaned into her, framing her face with his hands. Her face looked so small against the largeness of his hands. “Once in a great while, Azami, believe me, not very often, a miracle happens, a gift comes along. I’m a man who deals in death on a nearly daily basis. I put my life on the line and don’t expect to come back every time I go out. You’re my gift, Azami, my personal miracle. Maybe it happened too fast for you and you need time to catch your breath, and I’ll give you whatever time you need; just don’t say no and shut the door on us.”
It was as much of a plea as a man like him could manage. She had the face of an angel with her eyes and full lips and all that soft skin.
“I should, Sam. For you, I should; but I won’t.”
The relief was tremendous. He hadn’t realized just how tense he’d grown. He knew the intense physical attraction wasn’t one-sided, he could see her desire growing in her eyes and feel it in her kiss and melting body. Still, she was extremely disciplined and slow to trust. He felt privileged that, through their mind link, she’d given that trust to him.
Sam brushed his mouth over hers and straightened, smiling. “I just have to figure out a way to keep your brothers from taking off my head when I ask for your hand. It’s not like a soldier has a lot of prospects. They might think I’m after you for your money.”
“They would be more understanding of that reason for such an offer—a business transaction. They will have far less ability to understand you wanting me as a wife for other reasons.”
Again he couldn’t detect bitterness or even a bid for sympathy; Azami was simply stating a fact as she saw it. “They’ll have to get used to it,” Sam said.
“We do not ever show affection in public,” Azami cautioned. “I don’t want you to be offended if I don’t show how I feel.”
His eyebrow rose. “Are you afraid I might grab you in front of the world and kiss you like crazy?”
She nodded solemnly. “It isn’t done.”
His grin went wider. “It’s done. We just have to pick our spots. We both have the ability to transport from one area to another. I think if I’m desperate, I’ll just give you the sign and we’ll exit fast and return before they notice we’re gone.”
Azami looked at him as if she didn’t quite know what to think. His fingers curled around the nape of her neck, drawing her closer to him. He found that bemused, confused look adorable, but he was fairly certain a warrior woman wouldn’t find that description appealing, so he wisely kissed her instead of commenting out loud.
She gave herself up to his kiss, her tongue dancing with his, her slender arms creeping up around his neck.
Open your mind to mine, he whispered in the much more intimate form of communication. I need to feel you inside of me, and I need to be inside of you.
He might not be able to have her physically, not yet. Instinctively he knew she wasn’t ready to give him her body. The intimacy of telepathic communication would have to be enough. He prayed it would be enough and give him the strength to do right by her.
There was a moment of hesitation and his heart went still. His mouth moved coaxingly against hers, a gentle, tender assault to entice her. Her mind opened and warmth poured into him. Her strength, the vulnerability she hid from the world. She filled all the cold, dark places in him, lighting him, illuminating the darker shadows and instantly removing every vestige of loneliness.
When we’re like this, Azami, welded together, you can know more about me than any other human being will know living a lifetime with me. He caressed the silk of her hair, his palm cradling her head. I won’t ever go anywhere. I’ll be with you, just like this. See who I really am inside. Judge me on my character, not on whether or not Whitney has done something to pair us.
He knew that was her primary worry. When she entered into his mind, strong and courageous, that doubt was there as well. Azami didn’t try to hide it from him, nor did she pretend she felt comfortable with her body or with him seeing her flaws. To him they weren’t flaws, nor would they ever be.
Sam . . .
She kissed him with exquisite gentleness until his heart stuttered and his body threatened to burst through the material of his jeans. She brushed the pads of her fingers so lightly over his skin, shaping his shoulders and the muscles of his arms. The touch was barely there, yet he felt it as if she was branded into his bones.
How could it possibly work? You’re here. I’m in Japan. We both have a job.
But she wanted him. She wanted to give herself to him and in a way, she already had. It was impossible to be in her mind and not know her. She had committed to him the moment she’d revealed her body to him. She’d allowed him to share her mind and memories. He hadn’t betrayed her trust by searching her mind for how she’d assassinated Whitney’s three flunkies, although she didn’t try to hide anything from him. He knew she was going after Whitney and how could he blame her?