Fire and Ice Read online

  “If you want,” he said, and almost instantly she could feel his body relax, the tension and alertness vanish, as his breathing slowed, even his heart rate steadied.

  Whereas she was still wired.

  She moved, and his arm immediately tightened. “Stop fighting it,” he murmured.

  Stop fighting what? she thought miserably. There’s nothing she wanted more than sleep, but that wasn’t coming anytime soon, no matter how freaking tired she was. Stop fighting his control over her? That was more likely. The more he tried to make her do what he wanted, the more she resisted. If it had been Taka, she wouldn’t have argued, but Reno brought out her rebellious streak.

  Or stop fighting her feelings? That wasn’t about to happen, and it wouldn’t do her any good if it did. So she’d spent two years in L.A. fantasizing about him. She’d spent the two years before that fantasizing about Johnny Depp and she’d gotten over it. Within an hour of being in Reno’s company she’d moved miles past her adolescent crush as ugly reality set in.

  Unfortunately while her conscious mind had seen the light, her body and her emotions weren’t quite so quick. He was utterly still, too damned close to her, and she wanted to close the inch or two that separated them, press her body up against his and burrow against him. She wanted to see what kissing him would be like—putting her mouth on his. He had the most beautiful mouth she’d ever seen in a man, with rich, full lips. It didn’t matter that everything that came out of that mouth annoyed her—it was still luscious.

  It had to be the insanity of the past few days. She’d seen death, feared for her life. It was no wonder she was disoriented and clinging to the only semifamiliar thing in this alien world. For someone so dangerous he was still the only safety she knew, and it was probably nothing more than animal instinct that made her want to mate with him.

  What the hell? Mate with him? She was out of her fucking mind. And if she didn’t get the hell away from him, back to the safety of L.A. and minor inconveniences like a broken heart and shattered pride and a future with nothing but calm celibacy to keep her going, then she was really going to lose it.

  At least he viewed her with as much interest as her single, lousy lover had—he might not know what a fool she was as far as he was concerned, but he was rejecting her just as thoroughly as Duke had. In fact, she couldn’t even call it a one-night stand—it was more like a half-a-night stand, or even half-an-hour, and the very thought of it was….

  A second later Reno moved, from what seemed like a sound sleep to a pantherlike speed, and she was lying beneath him, pinned, and in the darkness she could see his eyes glittering, staring down at her.

  And for a moment the world seemed to fall away, as his mouth lowered toward hers.

  7

  She stared up at him, holding her breath, waiting, waiting for his head to move lower, for his full, rich mouth to touch hers, and she’d let go, she knew she would, just let herself sink into the thin mattress beneath her, into the hard bone and flesh pushing down on her, just let go and take him….

  “Go to sleep,” he said. His voice was cool, emotionless, and his body was hot and hard. Definitely hard, she realized with shock. Yet he’d said he didn’t want her, didn’t care….

  “Don’t jump to conclusions,” Reno said, clearly reading her mind. “I can’t lie on top of a beautiful woman without getting a hard-on, but it’s nothing personal. Unless you want it to be.”

  She wanted it to be. She didn’t want to think, didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to fight anymore. In fact, she didn’t want to do anything but lose herself in the strange and seductive man pressed against her. He’d said she was beautiful.

  And he wasn’t even going to kiss her. “I don’t want it to be.”

  “Now, that’s a lie,” he said. She expected him to mock her, but there was an oddly gentle note in his voice. “But we’ll wait until you can be truthful. In the meantime, go to sleep.”

  “I’m trying,” she said. “I don’t have the control over my body that you have.” She realized how her words sounded, and quickly amended, “I mean, over your own body.”

  His eyes were glittering in the darkness. “You were right the first time. I can take care of your little problem.”

  “I don’t feel like being knocked unconscious again, thank you very much.”

  “That wasn’t what I had in mind.” He pushed his hand between their sandwiched bodies, between her legs, and she shrieked, trying to buck him off.

  He slapped his other hand over her mouth, silencing her, and leaned down, whispering in her ear. “Hush. We don’t want anyone to know what we’re doing.”

  She tried to shake her head, but he was holding her head immobile. He put one leg between hers, forcing them apart, giving him access. And he was touching her, through the thin cotton cloth, touching her as if he did, indeed, know her body better than she did, and she arched beneath him.

  “I’d suggest you do this for yourself but I think you’d probably hit me again,” he whispered. “You’re too tense, and this is the only way to relax so you can sleep. Think of it as a medical procedure.”

  She tried to bite his hand, but he was way ahead of her. “Close your eyes, Ji-chan, and let it go. The sooner you do, the sooner you’ll come.”

  No one had ever touched her like that. He was right, she could have taken care of it herself, but his touch, through the rapidly dampening cloth, was something so powerful she didn’t think there was any way to fight it. She knew her own body and she wasn’t squeamish. She could bring herself to orgasm easily enough, but it had never felt like this, with a man’s hands on her, his body, his heat overwhelming her in the tiny capsule, his breath rasping in her ear. And not just any man, but Reno touching her.

  She was already way past arousal, the sensations sweeping through her body. Trying to squirm away from him only made it stronger. She felt the first little climax twist her body, and she fell back, panting slightly as he lifted his hand from her mouth.

  “There,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “You took care of it. I came. Now leave me alone.”

  His soft laugh filled the darkness. “You call that an orgasm? American men must be terrible lovers.”

  The second wave hit her harder, and she could barely hold back the cry that filled her throat. How did he know how to touch her, how hard, how gently, with those long, slender fingers of his? She jerked again as another powerful climax swept over her.

  And then there was no more fighting it. It was building, building, to a black place that she’d never been before, beyond arousal, beyond orgasm, beyond life and death, ready to dive over into the darkness. She reached up for him, blindly, trying to bring his face to hers, wanting his mouth, but he was suddenly rough, and she shattered, slamming her face against his shoulder to muffle her own cry, her body convulsing, shivering, dying.

  And then she fell back, limp. Her face was wet, and she realized she was crying. She couldn’t catch her breath—her hoarse panting filled the tiny capsule.

  He rolled off her, no longer holding her down. “That was an improvement,” he said in a matter-of-fact voice. “It will have to do for now. You have a lot to learn about sex, don’t you?”

  She was beyond words. She couldn’t even turn her back on him, not without pressing up against him. The shivers were slowly fading, even as a stray convulsion rippled through her body. She wanted to disappear, to die, to pretend that nothing had ever happened.

  She jerked when she felt his hand on her face. It was oddly gentle. “Close your eyes and sleep, baby,” he whispered with surprising tenderness as his fingers drifted over her eyelids. “You can hit me tomorrow. Sleep now.”

  And she did.

  Shit. Ji-chan was crying. He hated it when women cried. Even if it was just a physical response to great sex, he hated it. And it wasn’t just the power of her climax that brought the tears.

  Shit. If he’d been dumb enough to do something like that, he could have stripped off his own jeans and gotten off
as well, and now he was lying here with a hard-on that was probably going to kill him, and then who would look after Jilly, keep her safe?

  No one ever died from an unsatisfied erection—he should know. He’d probably been hard from age twelve till he finally got laid at age fourteen, and he’d survived well enough.

  Her breathing was deep and even now—she was sound asleep. Now he was the one who was wide-awake. Thinking about the feel of her beneath the thin cotton, the dampness, was making him even harder.

  Reno slid his hand down inside his jeans, rearranging things to be more comfortable. He could always jerk off—she’d probably sleep through it, and even if she didn’t, he wasn’t asking her to take care of it. But he wasn’t going to. Like a twelve-year-old kid, he wanted to keep his erection, and think about her. As soon as he got her out of Japan and into safe hands, he’d expend all that energy on someone willing. Despite his taunts, he had no intention of actually fucking her. He could wait for someone who didn’t come with strings attached.

  He closed his eyes. He didn’t have the faintest idea what the hell he was going to do tomorrow. Or today, actually. He was going to have to get to his grandfather without going through the usual channels, which would be tricky. He was far too recognizable among the members of his grandfather’s cell, and he had no idea who was gunning for him. Matsumoto-san had always hated him, as had Tomatsu-san. And then there was the new guy, Hitomi-san. He was an unknown—he couldn’t ever remember Ojiisan bringing anyone new into the organization without telling his grandson and heir.

  The problem was he needed to find a place to stash Ji-chan before he went looking. And he couldn’t think of any place safe enough, anyone safe enough to leave her with.

  He’d figure it out in the morning. His erection wasn’t going away, but he could control his mind. He needed sleep, and for now they were safe inside their little bubble. He moved, just slightly, closing the few inches she’d managed to put between them, so that their bodies were touching, shoulder to thigh. And only then did he let himself sleep.

  Jilly awoke in stages, drifting through the seven layers of bliss before she realized exactly where she was. Lying on her back in the narrow bed of a capsule hotel, with Reno’s body sprawled across hers. And then she remembered what had happened just before she fell asleep, and she shoved at him, hard, so that he fell back with a grunt, his eyes flying open.

  “Asshole,” she said, scrambling away from him as best she could in the tiny space.

  He reached to the wall and switched on the light, momentarily blinding her. When she opened her eyes again he was looking at her. And there was nothing she could do about it.

  “Shouldn’t we be getting out of here?” she said, determined to remain cool.

  “Soon. The salarymen are all getting ready to go, and you’re not supposed to be in here.”

  “You’re going to tell me no one ever sneaks a woman in here?”

  “The only reason to bring a woman in here is for sex, and there are more comfortable places. In case you didn’t notice.”

  She was lucky—this time she could control her instinctive blush. And now that she was fully awake, she had the sudden, extremely uncomfortable image of having sex in that confined space, Reno on top of her, naked, hot, deliciously…

  She blinked. She didn’t even know what she was imagining—it had nothing to do with romance novels and more to do with exercise, if Reno was to be believed. As for her, she’d be better off not finding out. At least, not while she was in Japan and with this particular man, no matter how tempting he was.

  “So we wait?” Even crammed against the far corner of the space she felt overwhelmed.

  “You wait. I have things to do.” He pushed the screen up, sliding out of the capsule.

  “Are you coming back?” The words came out before she realized what she was saying, how needy she sounded. Of course she was needy. She was alone in a strange country with people trying to kill her. It was nothing personal when it came to Reno. Not that he’d believe it. Not when she wasn’t sure whether even she’d believe it.

  “Don’t I always?” He slid the door down without waiting for her answer, and she took a deep breath.

  There was a small mirror set into the molded plastic wall, and she forced herself to look at the stranger who stared back at her. Her short streaked hair was a tangled mess, her eyes were dark and shadowed, her mouth pale. Whether it was the lack of sleep, or stress, or a combination of the two, she looked as if she’d been run over by a truck. She needed a shower, a toothbrush, clean clothes, and none of those things were in the foreseeable future.

  At least she could make sure he fed her. She’d be much better able to deal with him once she got food. Last night, if she was even going to think about it—and she wasn’t—was simply an aberration brought on by exhaustion and hunger. Besides, it wasn’t as if he’d given her any say in the matter. Was it rape when someone forced an orgasm on you? Maybe. Maybe she could ask Taka to kick his butt. Except she couldn’t see herself explaining to her formidable brother-in-law what had gone on in the capsule hotel.

  A cool, silent dignity was the best tack. She hadn’t been able to stop him the night before, any more than she’d been able to stop her own response. And what a response it had been. She’d never felt anything like that, anything as bone-shakingly powerful. If she’d known that was what could happen with a man, she would have gotten rid of her virginity years ago.

  Except that she’d been trying for quite a while now. She’d simply spent too much time as jail bait during college. No one was interested in someone her age, even if she was convinced she was an old soul. No one got close enough to find out.

  Reno had. Way too close. She was going to have to do everything she could to put distance between them. Which was just about impossible, given their present circumstances. Maybe he’d come back with a foolproof escape for her, and she’d never have to see him again—except at the occasional family occasions that she couldn’t avoid, which would be just fine with her. Time would make things better. In five years she’d be able to look him in the eye without feeling oddly vulnerable. Hell, maybe it would only take five days.

  In the meantime, she had no choice but to put her clothes back on, the clothes she’d worn for too long. She managed to finger-comb her hair into some kind of order, though it was a little too punk for her peace of mind. Not that she’d ever minded looking punk; in fact, the cut had been designed for that effect. But right now Reno was punk enough for both of them. And she waited.

  Of all the crimes and transgressions Reno had committed since he’d first appeared in her bedroom, returning to the claustrophobic capsule in clean clothes, damp hair and a freshly shaved face was the absolute worst. If she’d been on the fence before, she’d gone fully over to the other side now. She wanted him dead.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” he said, reading her mind. She needed to remember he had the odd ability to do that. It wasn’t making life any easier. “I couldn’t very well sneak you into the bath. I’m taking you someplace safe where you can shower and change your clothes.” He pulled a cloth out of his pocket and tied it around his head, obscuring the flame bright color. “Come on. The car’s waiting.”

  “Let me guess—you stole another car.”

  “I couldn’t very well buy it. Just keep your head down and don’t wiggle your hips.”

  “I don’t wiggle my hips!” she said, incensed.

  “Yes, you do. You don’t walk like a man. You’ve got hips like a porn star, and men are always watching them.”

  She didn’t know whether to be annoyed or perversely flattered. Annoyed was easier. “Maybe they’ll just think you brought your femme boyfriend in.”

  “You don’t walk like a gei, you walk like a sex bomb.”

  “Oh, fuck you,” she said, irritated.

  “Taka wouldn’t like it.”

  “Fuck Taka.”

  “Su-chan wouldn’t like it.”

  She gave up. “Y
ou know, things would be a lot easier if you stopped trying to make me furious.”

  “Easier for whom? Besides, it doesn’t require much effort on my part.”

  She looked at him. “No, that’s true. You’re just naturally infuriating.”

  “Remember that. Keep your head down, keep quiet and do what I say.”

  “Asshole,” she muttered. And she slid out from the capsule, ready for one more day on the run.

  8

  The car he stole this time could have been a twin to their first venture into Grand Theft Auto, Jilly thought, assuming he didn’t make a habit of it. It was an anonymous little gray sedan, and this time she didn’t make the mistake of heading for the right side.

  It was a cold, gray day, and she was reduced to her sweatshirt again; he’d commandeered the leather jacket, but she was damned if she was going to shiver. Her backpack was sitting on the backseat, full of clean underwear and textbooks, and she didn’t know whether to be pissed that he hadn’t brought it in or relieved that it hadn’t been lost. She decided “pissed” was her default, and she leaned back against the seat, her arms folded across her chest, as he took off into the traffic at a nightmare speed.

  Jilly had been raised on L.A. freeways, but occasionally cowardice was the only option. She squealed, shut her eyes and slid down where she sat, clutching the cloth seat with both hands and holding her breath. She considered praying, but she was too busy holding on as he sped through the crowded streets, clipped corners, zipped down back alleys that were barely wide enough for the small car. All she could do was wait it out, knowing she was going to die in a twisted pile of metal and flames, but at least he’d go with her, the son of a bitch, and—

  He stopped so fast that her body hurtled toward the window, the seat belt and Reno’s outstretched arm catching her before she made contact. “We’re here,” he said.