“My girlfriend,” I finally manage to say. Sounds so wrong, calling Kathryn my mere girlfriend. She’s so much more than that. She’s my partner in all things but living arrangements – even though I keep thinking we should move in together sooner rather than later. We practically live at each other’s places anyway. I know I don’t dedicate half my master bath to her hygiene and makeup products because I get off on it. “I came here with her.”
“To Japan?”
“Yes. For business.”
The doctor confers with the nurse again. “I’m sorry, but nobody like that has been here.”
“Does she even know?”
“The only people who know you’re here are the ones who brought you in.”
It must have been the Isoyas, but they would have told Kathryn, surely? Because there is no way in hell paranoid and worry-wart Kathryn would know I’m here and not camp out in their waiting room. She’d probably call my mom and made her fly out here. They’d have a séance to call my spirit back to my body or some shit. (It would probably work. For all I know, that is what they have done.)
So where are they?
“You have to call her. She’s probably worried to death about me.”
“We’ll make sure she’s contacted and knows where you are. Is there anyone else we should inform?”
I almost say my mother, but refrain. She would fly straight here and smother me with her worry, and it would be for nothing. Instead, I mention my father, under the condition he promises to not tell his ex-wife. I’m only letting him know because he’s technically my boss and I’m on a business trip. Also, I should probably give them Valerie’s number and have her arrange a first class ticket on a commercial flight back home. Who knows how long I’ll be here.
“Try to relax, Mr. Mathers. We’ll get some food in you. Then we want you to sleep. We’ll try getting you up and walking around tomorrow.”
I’m supposed to fly back to America the day after tomorrow. With my luck, it’ll be a month before I’m back at work. The least the universe could do right now is deliver my should-be-fiancée into my lap. I’m going to be a lonely bastard soon enough.
Chapter 8
KATHRYN
Junri and I arrive back at the hotel by eight at night. By this time I’ve officially entered panic forever mode. If her cousin doesn’t know what’s happened to Ian, then I’m going to officially explode. How am I supposed to survive this bullshit? Either something terrible has happened to Ian without anyone knowing, or he’s deliberately hiding from me and the rest of the world. Can’t say I like either option. I couldn’t even tell you which I would rather have. Someone’s going to pay, though. Oh, they will pay.
My name is Kathryn Alison, and nobody fucks with me or the people I love.
It goes both ways, and I understand where Ian is coming from when he goes into Caveman Mode over my safety and perceived honor. Probably because he and I enter very similar headspaces in and out of the bedroom. We are both used to seeing our partners as people we have to protect. They look to us for safety and security, even if they are also loaded as fuck. Right now I have my boyfriend and occasional sub’s safety as my topmost priority, and I will make sure both he and the universe know that endangering him at any time is not an option.
That said, if he’s deliberately avoiding me, he can kiss my ass – and my boots. I’ll give him the most merciless BDSM session his brain can conceive and his cock can handle. Then I’m dumping him!
I can’t even entertain that option right now, though. Because my gut knows that something is wrong and beyond his control. I wish I knew what!
Junri gets her cousin’s room number from the night auditor. She leads me into the executive elevator, and we spend a tortuously silent ride up toward the top floor.
“We will get the answer,” she assures me as we step into the hallway. “If not from my cousin, then my uncle will know. Surely.”
I hope she’s right. Yet isn’t it as likely that Ian got lost on his way back from the party? Right? Then again, both he and Kunihiro are staying in the same hotel, so wouldn’t they have returned together?
I need to stop running my brain in these circles.
Junri knocks on the door with a determined expression on her angular face. I don’t know what her relationship with her cousin is like, but she’s not showing the least bit of shock when he opens up wearing nothing but a casual pair of jeans and a finely made undershirt. RnB music plays in the background. That is definitely the scent of a woman’s perfume wafting from within.