Samurai Game (GhostWalkers 10)

Sam glanced at Azami. Ryland's voice was loud in his head and he hadn't yet detached himself from her. He knew he had no choice, but he'd never felt so reluctant to do something of paramount importance to his team. He knew she would see the unhappiness in his eyes, but in that moment he didn't care how vulnerable he was to her. The loss of her would be a terrible blow when she'd filled every empty space with her strength and conviction. With her humor.

He took a deep breath and let go of her. The loss rocked him as he knew it would, leaving him strangely cold and for one bloody second, without hope. He actually experienced grief before he clamped down hard on his strange and entirely inappropriate emotions, turning himself back into stone. He found it odd to feel so completely lonely when he'd never minded being alone. Without her in his mind, he felt he'd lost too much of himself.

Sam shook his head. We're fine. We've got a Jeep full of mercenaries to drive off, and you've got trained soldiers in that helicopter. Iranian.

There was a small silence as Ryland digested that shocking bit of information. You're certain?

That's affirmative. Are the other two civilians safe?

Yes.

Sam detested what he was about to do. Guilt ate at him, a terrible stone in his gut, but it had to be done. I don't believe Azami is who they claim she is. She has many of the same gifts I do. She can teleport and she's psychic. Kadan and Nico have to really watch the other two. I've been uneasy from the first, but I don't have an idea what's really going on.

Roger that.

Ryland's matter-of-fact voice was a comfort. Sam had conveyed uneasiness from the moment he'd approached the trio of visitors from Samurai Telecommunications, but he hadn't actually warned his team something was off. He'd waited for Kadan or Nico to raise the alarm, to at least feel the strange warning that he couldn't shake, but neither had said anything.

I think they're all armed to the teeth, at least for certain she is and she fights like one of us. We've got five Mexicans in a Jeep, everyone else on the ground is dead.

Cleaning crew on the way and Gator's in position to tail them. Let at least one go.

Roger that. But he didn't feel good about hunting with Azami, allowing her to put herself in danger when he'd just betrayed her.

Dr. Whitney was an implacable enemy and he wanted the children. Lily and Ryland had a baby boy in the compound, and more than anything else, he had to be protected. Just a few miles farther up the mountain, Team Two had twin babies and there was a softly whispered rumor that another woman was pregnant. No one spoke of it, to keep the information from reaching Whitney, who seemed to have eyes and ears everywhere. In San Francisco, another GhostWalker couple had a baby too, and if Lily purchased this satellite from Samurai Telecommunications, the Yoshiie family would visit both compounds as well to install software.

Sam couldn't take the chance that Azami was involved in a plot to aid Whitney. He couldn't see what she would get out of it, but there was no taking a chance with the children. He found he couldn't look at her. The terrible knots tightened to the point of cramping in his belly. He pushed himself up as the sounds of the helicopter and gunfire faded away.

"We've still got to harass the ones in the Jeep." He kept his face averted, his features expressionless, and his tone gruff.

"Sam."

His name was a whisper of sound. Soft like snowfall or the drop of the leaves in the fall. He took a breath. She didn't continue--just waited for him to face her. Silence stretched between them, but she wouldn't bend, demanding he face her.

"Damn it, Azami." Screw politeness. He'd sold her down the river and she'd probably saved his life with her patches of Zenith, although that was one more condemning mark against her.

Still she stayed silent. The wind persisted blowing through the trees, and he could hear the Jeep moving toward them, heading fast for the trail out.

He turned his head and his heart actually jerked in his chest as his eyes met hers. She smiled at him. She looked so beautiful standing there so still, her expression composed, serene even.

"I would have done exactly the same thing."

Damn her for that. Absolving him of his sins. He shook his head. That didn't make him feel better, although it was probably her intention. "Let's get this done. And one stays alive. We need him."

CHAPTER 5

Sam didn't wait to see if Azami would follow. The Jeep was his problem, not hers. She was a guest and one who would be very thoroughly vetted again before this day was done, thanks to him. She'd held up under intense scrutiny by the CIA, Homeland Security, and the GhostWalkers themselves. Other countries around the world purchasing her products for military use also investigated her and she'd come up clean. Yet Sam had doubted she was who she said she was. Maybe he was just going crazy and all Samurai Telecommunications employees were trained in warfare.

He swore as the Jeep topped the small rise, bursting into view, with five dark-haired men, heavily armed, looking wild-eyed and disheveled. Not soldiers, but certainly men used to killing. His brain catalogued the information even as he fired methodically, taking out the two on his side and avoiding shooting the driver. He expected return fire, but the other two soldiers went down in the Jeep, automatic weapons falling from nerveless hands and dropping to the ground as the driver careened out of sight, four dead bodies in his vehicle.

Sam turned his head just as Azami lowered her weapon. He frowned. He'd seen blowguns before, but like most of her weapons, this one had been modified. The darts were tiny, no larger than an unshelled peanut, the needle so thin and tiny he knew it would be impossible to discover that entry point. He would bet his last dollar that whatever fast-acting poison was used was undetectable. The loads were tiny, but in small individual chambers that looked harmless. She could deliver several shots before having to reload.

"I see you have no need of a sword."

"Very difficult, these days, to get them through security," she pointed out without changing expression.

"You're extremely accurate with that weapon."

"With all weapons. My father was an exacting man."

"You're a very dangerous woman, Azami Yoshiie." Sam meant it as an admiring compliment.

One eyebrow raised. Her mouth curved and she flashed a heart-stopping smile. "You have no idea how dangerous." She said his own words right back to him and he believed her.

"And you're just as adept with a sword as you are with your other weapons?" he asked curiously.

"More so," she admitted with no trace of bragging--simply stating a fact. "I said so, didn't I?"

Sam turned on his heel and strode toward her purposefully. "I'm about to kiss you, Ms. Yoshiie. I'm fully aware I'm breaching every single international law of etiquette there is, and you might, rightfully, stick that knife of yours in my gut, but right at this moment I don't particularly give a damn."

Her eyes widened, but she didn't move. He'd known she wouldn't. She was every bit as courageous as any member of his team. She would stand her ground.

Thorn moistened her lips. "It might be your heart," she warned truthfully.

"Still, I have no choice here. I really don't. So pull the damn thing out and be ready."

She felt her body go liquid with heat, a frightening reaction to a woman of absolute control. "If you're going to do it, you'd best make it really good, because it very well might be the last thing you ever do. I have no idea how I'll react. I've never actually kissed anyone before."

Her heart thundered in her ears, drowning out the sounds of the insects coming back to life around them. She was more terrified in that moment than she'd been during the battles with the enemy soldiers. She had no idea how she would react. Self-preservation was strong in her and Sam threatened her on such an elemental level she had no real way of knowing what she might do to defend herself.

With every deliberate step he took, Sam loomed larger and larger. She'd recognized that he was a big man, strong and battle-hardened, but she'd been going into combat at his

side, so she hadn't concerned herself with physical attributes. Now, she could see every detail. There was dark purpose in his eyes, a growing desire that left her breathless and weak. She couldn't be weak--not now, not in her most important hour.

She should have stepped back. Her fingers did curl around her dagger, but she didn't draw it. She didn't move. She stood captured in those dark eyes, watching his desire growing--for her, for Thorn, the warrior. He knew she was far more than Azami, her brother's bodyguard, and he admired her for it. No, it was more than admiration. He desired her because of it. He desired the warrior in her just as much if not more than the woman.

She found herself lost in his eyes as he stepped right up to her, without hesitation of any kind. His fingers curled in the lapels of her perfectly fitted jacket and he yanked her the scant inches separating them. Or had she leapt toward him in that last split second? She honestly didn't know--only that with the first touch of his aggressive male energy engulfing hers, she felt a hot rush through her entire body. The moment his hands fisted in her lapels, the heat turned to molten lava, an explosion in the pit of her stomach that flushed her skin. Her breasts felt swollen and achy, and dampness invaded between her legs.

His mouth came down on hers and instantly the world shifted. For one second she put the peculiar sensations rushing through her down to loss of breath, but then she couldn't think anymore. Just feel. Her skin went electric, her bones turned to water, her blood to fire. His lips were firm and cool and so demanding. She opened her mouth and allowed him to sweep her away with him.

Thorn had no choice but to wrap her arms around him and hang on as the ground beneath her feet rolled. He poured into her mind, hot and strong and determined to claim her for his. She felt the hilt of the knife digging into her palm and she took a better grip until she felt him giving himself to her. Fully. Everything. He opened to her. Let her into his mind. He was giving every bit as much as he was taking.

The world he opened for her was pure sensation. Pleasure burst through her like a hot firestorm. She felt her body melting into his, felt his heart beat, every breath he took, as if they were one person instead of two. Her mouth seemed to belong to him instead of her, kissing him back with a fiery passion she hadn't known she was capable of.

Sam knew he was in dangerous territory, but he couldn't stop himself. He had to taste her. No, if he was being honest, the terrible need to kiss her was far more than simply tasting her. He needed to claim her for his own. The urge had been growing in him from the moment he'd first set eyes on her. The more he was with her in such an extreme situation, the more he admired her. He found himself waiting for her smile, for the way her eyes lit up and the sun set streaks of light playing wildly through all that sleek, black hair.

He found himself needing to drop everything, strip himself bare of all shields to let her inside, no matter how bad the idea was. The moment his mouth came down on hers, he knew he was too aggressive, especially with that soft little admission--I've never kissed anyone--making his heart pound and hot blood pool low and vicious. But he couldn't stop. She tasted--like heaven. Everything disappeared around him, dropping away until there was only Azami with her soft skin, silky hair, and that elusive scent that drove him mad.

He fully expected the woman to stab him through the heart with her dagger. He could see the fear in her eyes just before his lips came down on hers, and it would never do to frighten a woman like Azami Yoshiie. She was a warrior through and through. Duty and honor were uppermost in her character. Control mattered, just as it did to him, and he was taking them both to a place neither could control.

Risking his life didn't matter to him. Only kissing her did. He merged with her in some undefined way, so that hot passion pounded through both of them. His hand slipped into that thick silk and bunched, holding her still for him, the other finding her slender neck, his fingers splayed wide to take in her soft skin. He poured himself into her, filling her, his tongue dueling with hers while they both drowned in sensual need.

Azami shuddered, her lips trembling, and then she consumed him as aggressively and as honestly as he did her. He felt her inside of his mind, running like lava through his veins, wrapping around his heart and filling his very bones with her.

"This is madness," she whispered against his mouth when they both came up for air. Her dark eyes searched his face.

Sam didn't have any answers. He knew she was right. They might be on opposite sides in a deadly war, yet he couldn't let her go. She fit with him. The world around them was out of sync, not the two of them.

"I know," he admitted as he rested his forehead against hers, looking into her eyes.

"What are we going to do now?"

A slow smile curved his mouth. "I really expected you to kill me so I wouldn't have to figure that part out."

She blinked, her black fan of thick silky lashes fluttering as wildly as her heart. She moistened her lips. "You're not getting off that easily."

Sam watched the dawning smile, the way her soft mouth curved and the warmth spread to her dark eyes with absolute fascination. "Well. Damn." He looked around, feeling as though he was coming back from a great distance. "We have a forest of dead bodies, a disposal team on the way, and you haven't asked a single question, Azami. Does this happen a lot when you take orders for your satellites?"

"First time. But I always come prepared." There was a teasing, mischievous note in her voice that slipped through every defense and aimed straight at his heart.

He knew he needed to release her, but once he allowed his physical connection to drop away, he was uncertain if he'd ever have a chance to reconnect. Instinctively, he knew Azami was elusive, like water flowing through fingers, or the wind shifting in the trees. He needed a way to seal her to him.

"How does one court a woman in Japan? Do I need your brothers' permission?"

She blinked again. Shocked. A hint of uncertainty crept into her eyes. She frowned, and he bent his head to swallow her protest before she could utter it. Her mouth trembled beneath his, and then she opened to him, like a flower, luring him deeper. Her arms slid around his neck, her body pressing tightly against his. He tightened his fingers in her hair.

He was burning, through and through, from the inside out, a hot melting of bone and tissue. He hadn't known he was lonely or even looking for something. He'd been complete. He loved his life. He was a man with teammates he trusted implicitly. He lived in wild places of beauty he enjoyed. He hadn't considered there would be a woman who could ever fit with him, who would ever turn his insides soft and his body hard.

Feel the same way, Azami. He didn't lift his mouth, kissing her again and again because once he'd made the mistake, he was addicted and what was the use fighting it? Not when it felt so damn right.

Somewhere along the line, his kiss went from sheer aggression and command, to absolute tenderness. The emotion for her rose like a volcano, encompassing him entirely, drawn from some part of him he'd never known even existed. His mouth was gentle, his hands on her, possessive, yet just as gentle. Another claiming, this coming from that deep unknown well.

Feel the same way, Azami, he whispered into her mind. An enticement. A need. He waited, something in him going still, waiting for her answer.

Tell me how you're feeling?

She hadn't pulled away. If anything, her arms had tightened around his neck. He shared every single breath she took, feeling the slight movement of her rib cage and breasts against him, the warm air they exchanged.

Like I'm burning alive. Drowning. Like I never want this moment to end. He wasn't a man to say flowery things to a woman, nor did he even think them, but he shared the honest truth with her. Like we belong.

Once he let her go, the world would slip back into kilter. He wanted her to stay with him, to give him a chance with her.

She didn't hesitate, and he loved that about her as well. She gave herself in truth in the same way he did. I feel the same, but one of us has to be sane.

She in

itiated the kiss when he pulled back slightly, chasing after him with her soft mouth, fingers digging tightly into the heavy muscle at his neck, sighing when his lips settled once more over hers. He took his time, kissing her thoroughly, again and again, all the while slipping deeper into her spell and hoping she was falling under his.

Is this your idea of sanity? He'd make it his reality. He was falling further down the rabbit hole and he'd make her his sanity if she'd fall with him.

Her soft laughter slipped inside his heart, winding there until there was no shaking her loose. Not really, but you have to be the strong one.

He kissed her again. And again. Why is that?

You started this.

Okay, that was fair enough. He sighed as he lifted his head. She didn't make it easy for him to be a gentleman either, but he'd already blown that big time, so he just steadied her with his hands biting into her waist, holding her, looking into those dark eyes.

"Tell me how to properly court you, Azami. I'm serious. I've never courted a woman before, but you're the one."

A shiver went through her. A shadow crept into her eyes. "Why do you think that so quickly? You just barely met me."

His brain threw on the brake, catching that wariness that was too strong to be a woman naturally wondering why a man found her so attractive so fast. Chemistry sizzled between them, but she . . . feared it. Distrusted it. His mind spun fast, throwing out answers he wasn't so fond of.

"Have you actually met Dr. Whitney, then? Do you know him?"

Azami swallowed and took a step back, her long lashes veiling her eyes. "Yes, I've met him. He's a monster. High IQ, but not anything like my brother." Her eyes met his. "Or you."

He recognized that she was telling him she'd investigated him thoroughly. Why him? Lily was purchasing the satellite. Did her company routinely investigate others living near or around someone making a buy from them? That made no sense.