"Let's discuss this over tea. I'm not going to be great at it, but you can teach me. I'd like to learn how to properly prepare you a good cup of tea. You drank the tea in the war room, but you didn't enjoy it. This is an important issue to you, Azami. We need to get it hashed out. Let's do it over a cup of tea."
"It would be your baby too," she declared. "It should be an important issue to you as well. You're so willing to be with me and you don't fully know all the risks." She ducked her head. "I should have disclosed everything right away, as soon as I knew you were serious."
He had said the right thing. The tension drained from her face, and her desperate, vulnerable expression was gone. She had a point. A baby would be his. His child. He had just assumed it wouldn't matter to her about children, because, although he wanted some, she would always be his first priority. If she couldn't have them, or didn't want them, so be it. He turned to lead her out of the room where their combined scents with the oil weren't so potent. He needed a little relief himself.
He didn't want to enjoy the fact that she was there with him, a soft whisper of silk moving through the house he'd built with his own two hands, but he couldn't deny that just knowing she was with him, arguing or not, gave him great pleasure. He felt her fingers push into the back pocket of his jeans as she followed him down the hall to the spacious kitchen. He didn't turn around, but his gut settled a little. At least she still wanted that physical connection between them. She hadn't entirely abandoned the idea that they would spend their lives together.
Once in the kitchen, he filled the kettle and set it to heat on the stove before turning to face her. "I don't have the best tea, just some teabags. I don't drink it that often." As in never, but once in a while Ryland and Lily came to visit and he liked to have tea for Lily.
"I brought tea with me," she confessed. "I always bring tea with me wherever I go." She disappeared into the large living room where she'd left a small bag with her things in it.
He loved the sight and scent of her moving around his house. He did have a terrible urge to take those pins from her hair and let it fall around her face naturally, push the shirt from her shoulders, and just put her up on the kitchen table. Dessert would be especially nice.
Sammy!
He laughed, joy flooding him. She was calling him Sammy. That was something. And she sounded as if she was laughing rather than being angry. He'd been broadcasting a little too loud there. At least she couldn't have any doubts that he found her attractive.
"I like that you came prepared," he said as she entered the kitchen. "I'm sorry I didn't think about protection, Azami. I should have."
Her lashes fluttered. Damn. He loved her lashes, and just that little movement sent heat spiraling through his body. It didn't take much to get him going around her.
"Teach me to make the tea the way you like it."
She smiled. "It isn't about liking the tea, Sam. It is about the preparation. One pours oneself into the tea. You make the bowl of tea from your heart. Each movement is defined, and even the setting of the table is about the one you're making the tea for. You must give the preparation your complete attention."
"Show me." He moved up behind her as she went to the counter, choosing to be just a little closer than necessary, crowding her body just a bit until he felt every breath she took. He lowered his voice and put his lips next to her ear. "Show me how you give the tea preparation your complete attention. What would you do if you were making tea for me?"
"Tea for you, at home, when we are alone, is a private tea. I have only a few things with me to make our tea special, but it will be made with all my heart."
She looked over her shoulder, the shoulder he was leaning over, to look up at him from beneath her long lashes. His heart--and body--reacted instantly. Electricity crackled between them, little sparks leaping from his skin to hers and back.
"I have given you my heart, Sammy. I don't know about the rest of me, we must talk first, but my heart you have, such as it is. This is my mistake, not yours. I'm pleased you want me so much. It makes me feel . . . beautiful. I've never felt beautiful before. It is a great gift you've given me."
Her lips were a mere inch from his and he'd be a fool if he ignored that temptation. No one had ever called him a fool. He caught the back of her head in the palm of his hand and lowered his mouth that scant inch to kiss her. She tasted like heaven. His shirt on her was long enough to go down to her knees, adequately covering her, but she wore nothing under it and he was familiar with her body now. He'd tasted nearly every inch of her.
Sam kissed her over and over, losing himself in her, indulging his need, afraid he might never get the chance again to persuade her to stay with him. He wanted her--no, needed her. He'd been perfectly content until they'd shared a mind connection, until she had poured herself into him. She was samurai through and through. Until the doors were closed and they were alone and then she was all woman--his woman.
When he lifted his head, her eyes had gone liquid. She smiled at him that little mysterious smile that made his stomach do a slow flip.
"Go sit down, Sam, and let me do this. I will show you another time, when I have all my things with me."
He liked the idea that there would be another time, so he didn't argue. Toeing around a chair from the table, he straddled it and rested his chin on his hands on the back of the chair, watching her intently.
She placed a wooden box on the table with a small bow and opened it quite reverently. Inside the box were tea utensils mostly made of ceramic or bamboo. He could tell the instruments were quite old and beautiful. Every movement was precise and graceful as she rinsed and laid utensils onto a small ornate tray Lily had given him when his house had been completed. He liked watching her graceful movements. She was naturally restful to be around, but he knew from experience, many warriors often were still and quiet but extremely capable of exploding into action.
She rinsed the two tea bowls with equal care, the flowing motion of her hands mesmerizing. Powdered green tea was placed in each of the bowls with a bamboo dipper. She poured the water from the kettle and proceeded to whip the tea with a bamboo whisk until it appeared slightly frothy. Very gently she placed the bowl in front of him and added two sweets on a small ceramic dish.
She bowed slightly as she placed the dish beside him. "The tea is bitter and the sweets will balance the taste."
"The bowls are beautiful."
"They belonged to my father's father. This is his traveling set. It's very old and I always try to give it honor, even when I don't have all the correct equipment."
"You'll have to tell me what we need," Sam said, making it casual. There was no harm in believing she would be spending her life with him.
Her gaze jumped to his face. "There are many complications, Sam. More than just whether or not we can have a child and whether or not it would be normal. You know it's true. What of my brothers? Who will protect them? That duty lies with me."
Sam bought some time by drinking the tea. He'd been in Japan many times and was used to the bitter green tea. He found solace in the ceremony itself and the graceful, fluid motion of hands while preparing the beverage.
"Your brothers both approved of our match. This has nothing to do with them. We can build a lab for them here, or extend Lily's laboratory. You can fly with them when they travel. You know this isn't about your brothers. This is about our child and your heart."
"And the strain of animal DNA Whitney gave me. My brothers have run extensive tests for me. I have a healthy dose of cat in me, which is what allows me to run faster, leap, and land so easily. That's separate from teleportation, Sam. He never knew about that."
"Hmm," he murmured, noting her distress level was rising again. "I have that same strain in me. He used that on several of the GhostWalkers, Azami. He believed it would allow us to be better soldiers."
"So what would that do to a child?"
"You've seen Daniel. Daniel's probably a good part of the reason you agreed to
come here in the first place," Sam guessed.
"But not because I considered having a child. I wanted to make certain his mother wasn't like his grandfather. If she'd been experimenting on him and all of you knew it . . ." She left the sentence hanging.
He studied her face, the absolute serenity there. "You and your brothers came prepared to wipe us out and take the boy."
"If need be. He is never going to live the childhood I did."
"At least there, we're all on the same page. Daniel is well loved and looked after. Every man and woman in this compound and the one next to ours would protect him with their life."
She nodded in agreement. "And Lily is a very good mother. She is a great scientist, but she respects life."
Sam leaned back, his hand curling around the back of his chair until his knuckles were nearly white. "Do you want children, Azami?"
She paled a little. He felt like he might have just delivered a punch to her gut. All the air seemed to rush from her lungs and she looked vulnerable, so much so that he had to fight the desire to kick the chair aside and pull her into his arms. He wasn't nearly as civilized as she was.
"I never thought it was a possibility, Sam," she answered, her voice very low. She sipped at her tea, taking her time. "I never thought I would find a man I could respect and love, let alone that he would find me attractive. There was never a question about children. And then I met you . . . and Daniel." She ducked her head. "He's so amazing, isn't he? I rocked him back to sleep the other night."
Her voice had gone all soft and dreamy. He could picture her with their child nestled in her arms. She'd make a fierce, protective mother.
"Do you believe your heart could stand up to carrying a baby, because I'd do it for you, honey, but I'm just not built right." He meant it too. If she wanted a child, he'd move heaven and earth for her to have her wish.
"I have no idea. I would think so. It stands up to me teleporting, so I can't see that it would give out just because I'm carrying a baby, but what with both of us having a strain of cat DNA and both able to teleport, we could be in real trouble."
"Jack Norton has twins, Azami, beautiful babies, and he's got the same strain of cat DNA. Whitney seemed very fond of large cats."
"I tried to find out if Lily was working on the effects on our children," Azami admitted, "but she's very careful with that research if she is."
"Anything to do with Daniel, or any of the babies, she would be extra careful of." She kept that research locked up and out of a computer Whitney might find a way to hack, but there was no reason to disclose that to Azami. Not yet. She was either with them--one of them--or she was walking away.
Her head came up and she looked him in the eyes. "I'm the least human of all with my strange heart and weird DNA strands, but if you really want me and you believe that you can love me, and you're willing to take a chance with me, I want to be with you, Sam."
"Willing to take a chance with you? Love you? Want you? Are you out of your mind, woman?" Sam stood up fast, kicking the chair away from him so he had a clear path to her.
CHAPTER 14
Azami found herself laughing as she fended him off. "You're so impetuous, Sammy. Let me wash my tea things and put them away before you carry me off."
"Carry you off?" he echoed. "I thought the kitchen table looked good right about now."
When he kept coming, she put up her hand to stop him. "Really, it's a matter of respect to honor my father and his father. It's important to me."
He crossed his arms over his chest and tapped his foot to signal great impatience as she began to methodically wash the tea utensils and bowls. She didn't look at him, but kept her back to him, concentrating on the task at hand. He realized she really did pour herself into whatever task she was doing at the time. He waited in silence, secretly enjoying the flowing grace of her hands as she worked.
When she closed the wooden box and turned to him, leaning her back against the table, she smiled up at him. "Do you really want me so much?"
He reached past her to take the box from harm's way and place it gently on the counter. "You have no idea, woman, but I'm about to show you." He didn't even care if he sounded as if he was threatening her. He needed some control here, and not in the way she was controlled.
He didn't like the idea of her thinking of leaving him. He knew he could tie her to him if she just gave him a chance. He couldn't be this sure and not be right.
"I don't know the first thing about this," she confided.
Sam stepped close to her, towering over her. "I do, Azami. Be sure this time because I won't be able to take stopping in the middle of everything again. If you want me to use protection, we'll do that. I have no worries about having a child with you, unless you're afraid of your heart giving out. With or without children, I want to spend my life with you. So you tell me what you want."
She looked up at him from under all those long, feathery lashes, sending his heart rate accelerating. "I held Daniel in my arms and rocked him to sleep and cried the entire time," she admitted softly. "I want to try, but I'm afraid."
He drew her into the shelter of his arms. "We'll talk to Lily about this, Azami. She knows what it's like to be afraid for her child. And Jack and Briony can help set your mind at ease as well."
She bit her lip and nodded. "I had no idea I would have the choice to have a husband and perhaps a baby. My brothers told me of course it was possible and I should consider such a thing, but I won't be with someone who doesn't know what--and who--I am. I make no apologies for my need to stop Whitney. Experimenting on adults is monstrous enough, but children?" She shook her head. "I can't let him continue."
Sam lifted her, cradling her against his chest. She was featherlight, warm and soft. "I know you inside and out and I want every inch of you. I've made my mind up, Azami. I've thrown myself into the ring completely, and I'm in it for the duration."
Azami lifted her fingers to his strong jaw. That beloved face. Those dark, serious eyes. All that curly hair. Hers. Was it possible? How had it even happened? She'd done such a terrible thing, going to bed with him and stopping him right in the middle of things. No one had ever made her feel as he did. Out of control--but in a good way. She hadn't even known it was possible. Sam Johnson. She'd read everything she could about him in his files. Right from the moment she'd read his impressive education and his equally impressive missions, she'd been intrigued. She just hadn't admitted it to herself.
"I am usually very good at making up my mind and sticking to my decisions," she said.
Sam laughed, the sound slipping beneath whatever guard she might have left and teasing her senses into complete compliance. This man, behind closed doors, would always be hers. He opened up his mind and his heart to her. He made her feel beautiful and worthwhile. Even more, he treated her as a complete equal on the battlefield. He would always have protective instincts, but she liked that about him.
The house was dark other than the candles she'd lit in the bedroom, and Sam carried her close to him as he made his way unerringly through the house. The doorways were wide and ceilings high to accommodate his frame, but he moved in silence, reminding her he was as skilled as she was.
"We'd better never get into a huge fight," she teased.
"That could be bad," Sam agreed as he set her on the floor beside his bed. "I'm taking these pins out of your hair. Am I going to stab my finger on something and die from instant poisoning, because I need to see your hair down?"
He grasped an intricately painted porcelain hair pin and tugged. The long pin was a slender round cylinder, and when he pulled it loose, strands of hair fell like a waterfall down her back. The pin looked innocent enough, but he didn't trust it. Azami looked innocent and she was a dangerous woman. He would bet his last dollar this work of art was very lethal.
Azami smiled at him and held out her hand. "The pins with cherry blossoms are used in up close fighting or perhaps a quick jab as one passes the enemy on the street. Just press twice and the n
eedle is here." She pointed to the end of the pin. "It would feel much like the sting of a tiny insect if felt at all and they are dead."
"Woman." Sam grinned at her, blood heating at the mere idea of her abilities. She was everything he'd ever dreamt of. "I think I'm fast becoming obsessed with you. What about this one?" He pulled a dark red pin from her hair. The porcelain was decorated with lacy leaves winding up the cylinder. "Dark red is for . . . ?"
"Blowgun. It works quite well up to about twenty-five feet. After that, no real accuracy, but handy in a pinch." She placed the dark red pin carefully on the nightstand beside the cherry blossom pin.
He pulled another pin loose and more hair snaked down over her shoulder. This one was black with a golden dragon curling around it. "And this one?"
She shrugged one shoulder. "Arrows. For my mini crossbow."
Her casual answer, given in that low, husky voice sent another rush of heat spreading through his veins. His blood turned to magma, hot and thick with need.
There was one red pin, three dragon and three cherry blossom pins. Sam pulled each one out slowly, watching the way her hair cascaded down her back in a silky waterfall. He found her incredibly sexy, a mixture of lethal and fragile. Her hair snaked down her back to her waist in another glorious miracle of womanly wiles. He'd had no idea her hair was so long. However she managed to pin it up with seven ornate weapons was simply another mystery.
His hands dropped to the buttons of the shirt she wore. His knuckles brushed bare skin, that soft swell of her breast he found as fascinating as her weapons. He kept his gaze locked with hers. He needed to stroke all that silken skin. His need had continued to grow with every moment in her company until his erection was a continual aching need. She wanted him, he could see it in the way she ate him up with her dark eyes. A slight flush crept up her neck to her face and her breath left her lungs in a ragged rush.