Ice Blue (Ice 3)

“Wouldn’t your wife know some Japanese?” she countered. “I would think—”

“Don’t think, don’t talk. You’re my American wife, we live in Seattle and this is your first trip to Japan. You know nothing of the language except for a few kinky things I’ve said to you when we have sex.”

She could feel the color flood her face. She wanted to hit him, but presumably American wives didn’t hit their Japanese husbands, any more than they talked or thought. “Yes, dear,” she said in her snottiest voice.

He ignored her sarcasm, unfastening his seat belt, reaching over to unfasten hers when she didn’t move. She batted at his hands and unclasped the buckle herself, pushing out of her seat. For a moment she felt dizzy, disoriented. But then, that had become the norm for her. She was half a world away from everything she’d ever known, and whatever lay back there was in ruins. At least her sister was safe. Summer needed to hold on to that fact, like some kind of beacon.

The flight attendants were hovering, and for the first time she could see how they fluttered around Taka. Did Japanese wives get jealous? Was flirting expected?

Apparently not. Taka turned to her, sliding his arm around her waist, and it felt strong and warm, so wonderful that for a moment she forgot the other time he’d held her with his arm around her waist, touched her, and she just wanted to lean her head against him. “Come along, darling,” he said in a voice pitched just loud enough for those around him to hear. “Time to meet your new family.”

She looked up at him, startled. There was a brief, bitter look in his eyes that was quickly masked. “They’ll love you just as I do,” he added with only slightly exaggerated fondness.

Which meant she was toast. “I’m looking forward to it,” she replied sweetly. “Taka-chan,” she added, using the affectionate term.

The flight attendants made soft, approving noises, as Taka glared at her. He leaned down and whispered in her ear in Japanese, something people close to them could hear. The giggles were louder now as he pulled away, and Summer smiled fondly up at him, wishing she was wearing high heels that she could tromp on his instep. She had no idea what he’d said, but whatever it was was clearly smutty.

“Let’s go, darling,” she said through gritted teeth. And she let him lead her off the plane, into a new world that was hardly more foreign than the life she’d been living for the last few days.

He was waiting for her in the first class lounge when she finally emerged from the changing room, and he didn’t look up. It gave her a moment to watch him, unobserved. He looked different. He’d showered and shaved, and his long hair was tied neatly in the back. He was wearing a dark suit, possibly the best looking suit she’d ever seen. He appeared remote and elegant, as if in entering his native country he’d absorbed it, becoming more of a stranger than ever.

The hard-shell golf case was beside him, the treasures of the Hayashi family safe inside such a mundane container, and he was reading a Japanese newspaper, looking like any normal man waiting patiently for his wife. If you didn’t look into his dark, merciless eyes.

He folded the newspaper and looked up. Of course he’d known she’d been watching him—he was aware of everything. But that didn’t mean she didn’t have some surprises in store for him. If she hadn’t been looking for it she might not have noticed his reaction, but it was as strong as she’d expected it to be.

Her Italian leather high heels were silent on the thick carpet. For a moment she hadn’t been sure whether she should put them on, but the attendants were wearing their shoes, and she assumed that the first class lounge was essentially international territory. And besides, they made her legs look terrific in the stockings that could be nothing less than silk.

Stockings, and lacy underwear that made Victoria’s Secret look like Wal-Mart. All fitting perfectly beneath the trim Anna Sui red wool dress. There was even Chanel makeup and perfume in the suitcase provided. Instead of her usual braid, she’d tucked her hair up in a discreet, elegant chignon. She looked as foreign and as beautiful as this unknown country, from the diamond studs in her ears to the diamond ring he’d shoved on her hand just before they’d reached customs. She was Susan Elizabeth Komoru, about to meet her Japanese in-laws for the first time. It was no wonder she was nervous.

He rose, and for once he didn’t tower over her. The three-inch heels brought her closer to her baby sister’s height, though still a bit shorter than Taka.

The shower had revived her, brought her brain back to life, and with it all her doubts and emotions. She shoved them to the recesses of her mind—she had to deal with this one minute at a time, and the startled look in his eyes, quickly masked, was reward enough.

He stood, staring at her for a long moment. “What?” she demanded in a low voice. “You didn’t think I could clean up well?”

He put his hand on the side of her neck, and she didn’t jerk away, couldn’t. He pressed his beautiful mouth against hers, briefly, and she could feel her body rise to his touch, her lips clinging for a moment.

And then he released her. “My family will love you,” he said, the image of sincerity. “Particularly my mother. She’s waited so long to be a grandmother.” He put his long-fingered hand on Summer’s flat stomach, and she jumped, nervous. Aroused.

She didn’t know whether he was trying to rattle her or simply lure her into playing the part completely. She didn’t like it, though she wasn’t quite sure why. Maybe because the reality of it would have been so piercingly sweet.

She gathered the only defense she had left. “I hope so, Taka-chan,” she said.

There was an odd gentleness in his smile. “You’re far too easy to love, Su-chan.” His affectionate name for her was a worthy comeback. Harder to bear, because he made it sound so believable. He stepped back, breaking their contact. “My cousin should be here by now,” he added. “If you’re ready?”

He couldn’t hold on to her, the hard-shell golf case and his own suitcase. She could run when they reached the main part of the terminal, and he’d have to choose between the Hayashi treasure or her.

But she’d accepted the fact that she wasn’t going to run. She was trapped in a foreign land with a man who killed, but he was still her best chance at staying alive. Besides, where would she go? She had the fake passport, credit cards and a wad of paper money in the Coach handbag that was part of what she could only think of as a disguise. She had a minimal knowledge of the language, and even in the U.S., where she had all her resources, she had been helpless when she came up against Takashi and the Shirosama.

Here, in their own country, it would be even worse. She had no choice but to play out this hand. It didn’t help that she could still feel Taka’s soft lips against hers.

“I should warn you about my cousin,” he said just before they headed out into the winter afternoon.

“Is he anything like you?”

“Reno is like no one else on this earth. He doesn’t care much for Americans.”

“That hardly makes him unique. We’re not terribly popular, and for good reason.”