At least she’d accomplished one thing she’d set out to do. She’d gotten over any lingering fantasy about Reno. For that matter, the past twenty-four hours had been so nerve-racking that the embarrassingly wretched, fumbling, one-night stand she’d been running from had faded into nothingness.
Really, the crush on Reno had been her sister’s fault, no matter how well meaning she’d been. If Summer hadn’t kept them an ocean apart, she would’ve gotten over it quickly. It was the exotic mystery of him—familiarity, if it didn’t breed contempt, at least bred a comforting degree of imperviousness.
But she still didn’t want to see him naked.
She scooped up her clothes, heading for the sliding screen, just as he began to untie the belt of the yukata. “Asshole,” she muttered under her breath, sliding the door closed behind her.
But his soft laugh carried anyway.
The narrow hall was deserted, as was the women’s bathing room, and the large communal bath held nothing but steaming water. Just as well—she wasn’t in the mood for an audience.
Stripping off the yukata, she sat down on a low stool and began to wash herself. She’d been around her sister long enough to know the proper bath etiquette. Clean yourself before you got in the bath, and never bring soap with you.
The hot bath was glorious, enveloping her aching body in a liquid embrace. She wasn’t sure what the rules were about ducking her head under, but she couldn’t resist, feeling her short-cropped hair flow around her in the hot, hot water.
Maybe she’d just stay there until her skin got all wrinkled and pruney, and Reno gave up on his self-appointed mission to look out for her. He wouldn’t come after her in the women’s bath; she’d be temporarily safe from interruption, at least for a short, blessedly peaceful time.
Except now a quiet young Japanese woman entered, dressed in the same yukata.
“Ohayo,” Jilly said, wishing her good morning.
The woman looked startled, and whether it was from a gaijin speaking Japanese or the fact that a stranger spoke to her, Jilly couldn’t be sure. She murmured an answering “oha” before she turned her back and began to wash her delicate body.
Making Jilly feel like a hulking giant. She was probably twice the size of the small, slender woman, and she had no more than a stubborn ten pounds too much by American standards. No wonder Reno was looking at her with nothing warmer than annoyance. She must look like a porker compared to what he was used to.
One thing was certain—she wasn’t climbing out of the bath and exposing her body to the woman’s curious eyes.
Unfortunately once in the water, the woman seemed to have no interest in leaving. She closed her eyes, leaned her perfect head back and let the water lap around her.
Jilly started to move toward the edge of the bath, and the woman’s eyes opened, looking at her curiously. Jilly stayed put.
Not that Jilly could blame her. She’d probably never seen a woman who was almost six feet tall. But her curiosity was going to have to remain unsatisfied, because Jilly wasn’t going anywhere with an audience. She’d spent most of her life around her exhibitionist mother, who had the best body money could buy, and in reaction she was almost obsessively modest. She didn’t even want her mother’s dog to see her naked.
She could hear voices out in the corridor, and a moment later the door slid open and a harried-looking woman began chiding her in very fast Japanese.
Jilly only knew every fourth word, but she had no trouble understanding. She was supposed to get out of the bath—her brother was waiting for her.
At that point, an elderly gentleman poked his head in the door, clearly drawn by the noise, and Jilly sank down lower in the bath, willing them all to go away.
The woman, presumably the innkeeper, had to pause to take a breath. The other woman in the bath had sat up, curious and totally unconcerned with the audience.
A moment later the old gentleman was politely but firmly moved from the doorway, and Reno strode in, causing both Japanese women to shriek in protest. Apparently observing from the hall was kosher, but actually entering the inner sanctum was not.
“Go away,” Jilly snapped.
“Get out of the bath.” He crossed the small room, ignoring the restraining hands of the innkeeper, ignoring the young woman who slumped lower in the bath, towering over Jilly with an expression on his face that looked ancient. The look of a samurai about to behead his enemy.
She tried to move out of his way, but she underestimated him. He reached down into the water, caught her arms and hauled her out, stark naked and dripping wet.
The shrieks increased, joined by Jilly’s, but Reno’s sharp words silenced them all.
She tried to squirm out of his grasp, but he held tight, grabbing her discarded yukata and wrapping it around her like a blanket before he hustled her out of the room, past the dignified gentleman who was looking at her with unabashed enthusiasm.
Reno was muttering under his breath. He shoved her back in the room, accompanied by a terse “get dressed” and somehow managed to close the sliding paper screen door with the equivalent of a slam.
She yanked her clothes on quickly, knowing he was just as likely to come back in and watch her. A moment later she slid the door open again, expecting to meet his glowering face.
The hall was empty when she poked her head out, and she was wondering whether he’d decided to abandon her after all when she heard the voices. Men’s voices, speaking lousy Japanese. With a Russian accent.