Samurai Game (Ghostwalkers, #10)(61)



Don’t worry about me, Azami. I’m a grown man. I make my choices and I live with them. I know exactly what I’m doing and why.

Ryland’s head snapped around. “Speak out loud for everyone to hear if you have something to say, Sam. That’s why you’re here, isn’t it?”

Sam had rarely heard Ryland use that voice and more than anything else, as low and as stern as it was, the tone told him he was on treacherous ground.

“I told her not to worry about me, that I make my own choices and I know exactly what I’m doing and why.” Sam wasn’t about to dodge the truth.

“I hope you do,” Ryland said.

“I had reservations about the Yoshiie family from the moment I met them, especially Azami. From the beginning I thought it was possible she was one of us—a GhostWalker. It wasn’t that I felt the familiar energy, I can’t put my finger on what it was exactly, but I was very uneasy and indicated that to Nico and Kadan as well as sending Lily pictures,” Sam reported. He resisted the need to put his hand over Azami’s folded hands beneath the table. “Of course my first worry was for Daniel.”

It was important Azami knew that he would fight with his last breath for the boy against anyone who tried to harm him. She had to know his loyalty to his team whom he considered family ran deep, as would his commitment to her—and any children they had.

“She fought beside me, Rye. I’ve been in her mind. She saved me out there. I put my life in her hands and I would never have allowed her to come here if I thought for one moment she was a threat to Daniel or that she was working with Whitney.” Sam looked him right in the eye. “If you don’t know that much about me, what the hell am I doing here?”

Ryland didn’t flinch. “If I didn’t know that much about you, Knight, you wouldn’t be sitting at this table. Wounded or not, you’d be on your ass in the brig.”

“Mr. Miller . . .” Azami began.

“Captain. Captain Miller,” Ryland corrected.

Sam ducked his head. Ryland was royally pissed. It was difficult to get the man riled, but once he was, there was very little backup in him.

“Forgive me,” Azami said in her demure tone, those long lashes lowering as she bowed her head gracefully. “This is my fault. When I was young, my father asked only a couple of things of me. He asked that I live a life of honor and that I throw hatred and anger away as useless. I hated Whitney with the passion only a child could have. My father taught me that he is a monster, yes, but my hatred of him gave him great power over me. Bringing a man like Whitney to justice is impossible, but someone has to try.”

“How?” Ryland asked. “You must have a plan.”

Azami looked around the table. “You are asking me to trust all of you when you don’t trust me.”

“You came to our home on false pretenses,” Ryland pointed out.

She shook her head, her eyes steady on his. “That is not so, Captain Miller. I insist on visiting all corporations or countries who wish to purchase one of my satellites. Our company is legitimate and I know you didn’t choose us blindly. We deliver the best in the world. There is no competition as of yet. Our lens is superior, as is our software, to any other on the market. You reached out to us.”

Gator placed a cup of tea in front of Azami. “I noticed you took milk in your tea earlier.”

She smiled up at him. “Thank you.”

“Can I get you anything else, ma’am . . . Azami?” Gator asked.

Sam shifted in his chair. He was happy someone was being polite to her, but of all the men, Gator was the most charming with women. He was totally enamored of his wife, but that didn’t stop women from falling for him.

Azami raised her long lashes and looked at him directly. The impact struck like an arrow straight through his heart. How did she know? How were they so connected? He wouldn’t betray his family or team, but he’d fight with every breath in his body for her. Her eyes seemed like the midnight sky, dark and yet sparkling with stars, embracing him with heat, with something very close to desire. Then her lashes came down and she was once again focusing on Gator.

“No, thank you,” Azami said politely. She took a very ladylike sip of tea and put the cup back in the saucer before she looked once more at Ryland. “It is our policy to vet everyone who wishes to purchase from us—that is well known throughout the world. Three weeks after we turned down Dr. Whitney, his daughter Lily made inquiries. Was that coincidence or was he using her to acquire our satellite another way? I think that question is very legitimate, and as a responsible company, we had to get the answer.”

Sam knew he was falling fast. She was so composed under fire, so perfect in every way for a man like him. He loved the way she looked: regal, a Japanese princess with etiquette ingrained in her, with such grace and poise, and yet any moment she could erupt into a lethal killing machine if circumstances called for her to do so.

Ryland nodded. “I suppose you have a point. I would do the same thing.”

“I knew Whitney would eventually try to get his hands on one of our satellites, and it was the perfect opportunity to get to him. He would have to meet with us. His location is well hidden and he moves often. He can utilize any U.S. military base in the world and has friends in very high places helping him. He’s a ghost, elusive and impossible to track at this point. Our satellites were the perfect bait.”

Christine Feehan's Books