He proceeded to show her how to use the eating utensils, ignoring her beaming smile all the while. Niamh had gripped noodles from the bento box with her chopsticks and managed to use them with an ease that made her laugh in triumph. “Arigato.”
Kiyo had raised an eyebrow at her use of Japanese and her decent pronunciation. His expression had caused her to laugh again.
“It’s the only word I know.”
Something about the exchange on top of their earlier cozy, soul-bearing conversation made him clam up.
At first, Niamh, sensing something was wrong, had asked him about it. His cool, clipped responses had caused her to withdraw. Kiyo knew putting distance between them was absolutely the right thing to do when he realized he felt guilty for hurting her feelings.
Kiyo was not a guy who felt guilty for hurting anyone’s feelings.
Thankfully, Niamh had gone from upset to pissed.
He could handle that better.
“Where are we going?” She hurried to keep up with his long strides.
Kiyo flicked her another look.
Earlier, when she’d returned from the plane’s restroom, he’d had to do a double take. Instead of the jeans and T-shirt he was used to seeing her in, she was dressed as she had been in the many surveillance photos Bran had sent him. Her hair fell down her back in braids and loose curls, and she wore a dress the color of fall leaves. It was fitted tightly to her upper body and had long sleeves but the skirt was loose and floated around her ankles. She wore a pair of flat, brown leather boots, dangling feather earrings, and a ring on nearly every finger, each one a different moonstone.
Kiyo was simple when it came to women. He preferred no guessing games; he liked them confident and sexy and only interested in casual encounters. That’s why his tastes usually veered toward women who dressed in clothes that left little to the imagination.
Yet, something about Niamh’s ethereal femininity sparked a heat in him he didn’t understand.
He didn’t want to understand.
So instead of asking her about the fashion change or where she got all the shit she was wearing, he ignored her.
“Kiyo,” she huffed impatiently. “Where are we going?”
“Express train. It’ll take us about an hour to get into the city from here.” He slowed to a stop in front of a large route map. Studying it a second, he relayed, “We can get shinkansen at Shin-Nihombashi.”
“Shinkansen?”
“Bullet train.”
Excitement fluttered in her words and she seemed to forget she was annoyed with him. “Ooh, I’ve always wanted to go on one of those. Is it true they travel at two hundred miles per hour?”
She sounded like a kid at Christmas. His lips twitched as he began to walk again. “At their top speed. We won’t hit that. Shinkansen will get us to Chuo City in only two minutes.”
“Two minutes? Wow. Something that moves as fast as me. Who knew.”
He would not be charmed by her.
He wasn’t charmed by anything.
Soulless bastards were immune to charm.
“Oh my goodness, is that a vending machine with noodles in it?” she asked.
He followed her gaze to a bank of vending machines adjacent to food stalls. “You choose what dish you want, pay, it gives you a ticket, and you take it over to the food stall.”
Niamh nodded, still wide-eyed. “What does the vending machine with the umbrella mean?”
“Just what it says. You can buy an umbrella from it.”
“No way!” She slowed to a stop. “Can I get one?”
It was hard not to smile. In fact, he lost the fight entirely as he turned to her. “You want an umbrella? You, with all the magic?”
Niamh grinned. “I’ve never had an umbrella from a vending machine before.” Her eyes flew back to it and then caught on another. “Oh my God, there’s a banana vending machine!”
A chuckle escaped him before he could stop it, and her eyes flew back to his in surprise. He took a step toward her. “We might get to where we’re going faster if I tell you that there are vending machines all over Japan and they have pretty much everything in them. Now, can we go?” he asked gently.
Niamh threw the umbrella vending machine one last longing look before she hurried to follow him. “Who needs magic in Japan?”
To his eternal gratitude, Niamh was too busy watching the country pass by to talk to him on the express. She disarmed him, making it difficult to be cool and distant with her. On the train, however, he’d given her the window seat. She took in the soft green countryside, tinged with the paleness of mild winter. This express train took the more scenic route, nature eventually melting away to city as they entered Inzai. Niamh leaned closer to the window as she took in the sight of the city in the distance.