“Not so little,” Reno said. “She’s as tall as I am. And not mine.”
“You’ve claimed responsibility for her. She’s yours now, at least until you get her home safely. After that you will concentrate on your new work with the Committee until I call for you.”
Reno blinked. His grandfather was giving in—he’d expected more of a battle from the stubborn old man. He’d even been prepared to escape if Kobayashi hustled him into the limo and back to the compound against his will.
But the old man had accepted his choice. “Are you sick?” Reno demanded, suddenly worried. “Dying?”
His grandfather made a face. “You’ve only been gone six weeks, Hiromasa-chan. And if I were dying, you’d be the first to know, and you’d be back here, taking your proper place in the family, not playing spy like your cousin Taka-chan. You say Jillian is your responsibility and you refuse my help—so be it. I would suggest that you don’t fail. If you think I’m difficult, then you have forgotten how ruthless your cousin can be. He wouldn’t like the sister of his wife to be in any danger, and he wouldn’t hesitate to express his displeasure if you let anything happen to her.”
“I’m not going to let anything happen to her. That’s why I’m back here, against your instructions. I’ll find her and send her back home, and then I’ll return to England and continue my new work.”
If his grandfather didn’t find that a pleasing prospect, he didn’t say so. “Don’t take too long, Hiromasa-chan.”
“I expect I’ll find her at
Taka-chan’s house and we’ll be out of the country by tomorrow.”
“I wasn’t talking about the girl. I have no doubt you’ll find her quickly. I’m talking about something else entirely. I’m not going to live forever.”
He looked down at the little old man who had always scared the hell out of him. “Yes, you will, Ojiisan,” he said softly. “You’re too old and mean to die.”
“Disrespectful,” his grandfather sniffed, looking pleased. “Go find the girl and keep her safe. And whatever you do, do not fall in love with her. We’ve already had too many gaijin in the family. You need a nice Japanese girl to marry. I’ll make the arrangements myself.”
“I don’t want to marry anyone. At least not right now. And I don’t believe in falling in love.”
“Just remember that,” his grandfather said. He reached up and put a hand on Reno’s shoulder, and his grip was still powerful. “And cut your hair,” he added, peevish.
To hug his grandfather would have been very bad form, particularly with his men watching. Reno had to make do with a deep bow, moving back as the old man climbed into the limo.
He waited until his grandfather’s army left before he went back to his Harley. It started with the guttural roar that was one of his favorite sounds in the world, and he took off into the growing darkness. Looking for someone he wasn’t sure he wanted to find.
2
Jilly awoke suddenly, the developing darkness like a blanket over her head. She couldn’t see, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t remember where the hell she was.
It only took a second for the memories to come flooding back. She was in Japan at her sister’s house, and it was sometime in the middle of the night.
She forced her breathing to slow. She could still feel her heart slamming against her chest—the momentary panic had been unexpected and powerful. She closed her eyes again in the inky darkness. And then she heard it.
A noise beyond her closed door—someone was moving around in the front bedroom, quietly, so as not to disturb anyone.
Taka and Summer must have returned. She scrambled to her feet, relief flooding her. She hadn’t allowed herself to worry about them; Taka was the kind of man you could count on to face down an army. Summer would always be safe with him.
She reached for the door, then hesitated. She was wearing flannel boxers and a tank top to sleep in—a little informal for company. It would have to do. Taka would politely avert his enigmatic gaze, and Summer would find her something to wear, make tea and comfort her.
It wasn’t until she opened the door that she considered the extremely unpleasant notion that it might be someone other than her sister and her husband. She could see the refracted beam of a flashlight dance around the room at the end of the corridor. Why would Taka use a flashlight? He knew where the lights were.
And why weren’t they talking? If Taka had come alone, why was he trying to be so quiet?
She froze, all her latent instincts swamping her. She knew this feeling, remembered it far too well. She’d been trapped once before, held captive by a very dangerous group of people just two short years ago. Isobel had rescued her, but Isobel was far away, and the Committee would have no reason to worry about her. No one even knew she’d come to Japan, unless her sister had decided to check for messages. This time it was going to be up to her to get out of whatever mess she got herself into.
There was no way out the way she’d come—the windows in the back room were high and narrow. There was no place to hide back there, either. If someone was searching the place, they’d find her.
And maybe there was a perfectly reasonable explanation for it all. Now she could hear low murmuring voices, and she strained to hear enough to translate.
But they weren’t speaking Japanese, they were speaking Russian, and she was in deep shit.
She took a step backward, her bare feet silent on the tatami mats, when something came at her from the darkened cavern of the bedroom, swooping down on her like a giant bird of prey, clamping a hand over her mouth before she screamed, holding her back against his body in an iron grip.