Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)(57)

“Tell me who this Shark is that came to your rescue,” Azami prompted.

Sam started to reach out to take her hand and stopped himself. He had not asked for permission from her brothers and she’d told him a couple of times about public displays of affection. He sighed. He was going to have to find it in himself to keep his hands off of her, even when he seemed to need to touch her.

His eyes met hers and she smiled at him. Just for him. Her eyes warmed slowly, going from that cool darkness to molten heat.

I want to touch you. Skin to skin. The admitting of his secret need, even if it was only a whisper in her mind, made him feel closer to her.

Azami shifted again, a slight, subtle movement that put her even closer to the bed where he sat. Her bare arm slid against his, the merest of brushes, yet he felt her touch all the way to his bones, branding him hers.

“We call him Shark because he’s good in water, ma’am,” Tucker said.

Azami smiled at them, leaning against the bed, making the movement so natural Sam was certain no one would think twice about it. “Enough addressing me as ma’am. My brothers and I are quite fine with using the more personal first name. We don’t find it insulting. Please call me Azami; I will consider it an honor.”

Sam couldn’t help but stare at her. She sounded so demure and sweet, her long lashes veiling her eyes, her lips both fascinating and alluring as she spoke.

Tucker nodded. “Azami, then. Shark’s name is Tom. He recently joined our team and like we said, it was his first mission with us. We were still feeling our way with him. He didn’t hesitate at all. He was in that water, swimming under the water to Sam and me. Ian was splashing like crazy and Gator was doing his wild Cajun thing to keep the crocodiles’ attention focused on him while Shark worked to move that tree off of them.”

“He had to breathe for us underwater. I’m good in the water and can stay down a long time, but not like Tom. He was all over it. Give us air, work on the tree, and give us more air until he had that sucker off of us. Ian kept splashing around and Gator kept up his crazy antics as bait and Jonas and Rye worked above the water to help lift the tree.”

Azami pressed her lips together tightly, regarding Sam without speaking. She knew, in spite of all the joking and laughter, just how dangerous the situation had really been and how close Sam and Tucker had come to losing their lives.

This is the kind of work you like?

Sam nodded slowly. Does it bother you?

“What happened to the Frenchman? Did he get away?” Azami asked aloud.

I am samurai. I have chosen a life of honor. It’s only fitting that the man I am considering sharing my life with would do so as well. I do not fear death and clearly you do not either. My father taught me never to fear death, but to live my life to the fullest, to embrace every moment as if it might be my last. My choice for a partner is one who lives his life in this way.

“Hell no, he didn’t get away,” Ian said. “We dragged him back with us and handed him over to the French. They were very glad to get him, and I believe they put him on trial for treason. He deserved whatever they threw at him.”

There is no doubt in my mind, Azami, we belong. He no longer needed to touch her to know she was committed to him. Her warmth was in his mind, filling the lonely places.

He had lived on the streets, scrounging his way, one step ahead of the gangs and the pedophiles until he’d tried to steal a car with the idea of getting out of the city. He had no plan at the time, only a desperate need to get away from where he was. General Ranier told him it was providence that he had tried to steal Ranier’s car, allowing them to meet. Secretly, Sam didn’t care what it was, only that they had met and the general had given him an education and a direction. Now there was Azami. She was his direction and the path seemed very clear to him.

“Uh-oh,” Ian whispered, overly loud. “We’re about to get busted.”

Azami moved even closer to Sam, protectively, her body shielding his from the door. He had to smile. His woman wasn’t going to sit peacefully in a corner in the face of a threat.

“It’s Ryland,” he said softly.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. The movement was graceful, a whisper of silk and sin, temptation in the form of long lashes and serenity masking fiery passion. His heart jumped toward hers. Azami smiled at him. Intimate. Only for him. Such a brief exchange, but it was enough to know she was his. All that she was, was his.

Ryland filled the doorway, his broad shoulders so wide they nearly took up the space entirely. In his arms, Daniel snuggled against him, alert, bright, ready to join in the fun with all of his uncles.

“Do you think you’re making enough noise?” Ryland demanded. “It’s the middle of the night, in case no one’s noticed.”

“Did we wake Daniel?” Ian asked, instantly concerned. He held out his arms to the boy. “Come here, my little man.”

Daniel looked past Ian, his gaze clearly settling on Azami. He broke into a smile and instantly took his index fingers and hooked them together, signing “friend.” He held out his arms toward her and nearly launched himself from Ryland’s arms.

Azami took the boy and hugged him to her. “Hello, my little friend. Did we wake you up? Your uncles were just telling me some exciting stories about things they’ve done.” She spoke to him as if he were an adult, not a toddler, looking into his eyes as she held him close.