Loving Jiro

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Author: Tracey Jordyn

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Aidan Books www.aidanbooks.com Copyright ©

NOTICE: This work is copyrighted. It is licensed only for use by the original purchaser. Making copies of this work or distributing it to any unauthorized person by any means, including without limit email, floppy disk, file transfer, paper print out, or any other method constitutes a violation of International copyright law and subjects the violator to severe fines or imprisonment.

CONTENTS Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen Chapter Sixteen ****

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Loving Jiro Copyright © July 2008, Jordyn Tracey Cover art by Aidan Books © July 2008 This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this novel are fictitious or used fictitiously. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce this book, or portions thereof, in any form. Aidan Books USA www.aidanbooks.com

Chapter One "Okay, what you do is put a small dab here of the blue and a dab over here of the white. Take the smallest bit from each and blend,” Kiara instructed. “See the results?" The young girl nodded her understanding and proceeded to copy Kiara's actions to the letter. She was a natural, Kiara thought, and hoped for the umpteenth time that some miracle would allow the girl to one day go to art school. "Kiara Jackson?” a voice ahead of her asked. “Is that you?" She looked up to find an Asian man standing before her, muscled physique beneath an obviously expensive suit, strong jaw, bald head and eyes hidden behind mirrored glasses. Next to him, he held the hand of a young girl no more than eight or nine. The man pushed his glasses down his nose to peer at her over the top. Cold, dangerous eyes, so dark she couldn't be sure they weren't black. Somehow, although he had asked if she was Kiara Jackson, she was pretty sure he knew she was. A familiar tremor went through her. She hadn't run away lately, and a man as impeccably dressed as this one, wouldn't be there on Odell's behalf. She tried to relax, but tension locked her shoulder muscles in place. “Yes, I'm Kiara Jackson. "I am Jiro Fuschida and this is my little sister, Ayumi." " Hajimemashite,” the girl said softly. Her brother made a soft noise and frowned. She spoke louder in English. “How do you do?" Ayumi. That was the name of a character from her favorite cartoon. So they were Japanese. She nodded. “Pleased to meet you. What can I do for you, Mr. Fuschida?" He smiled, and her heart fluttered. “Please, call me Jiro. I understand you teach children to draw and paint?" She glanced past him to the glass doors leading out of the community center. While she had not liked the

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fact that she had been given a space no bigger than ten by ten feet in the lobby, which made her have to trek back and forth to the bathroom to get fresh water for her paints, she hadn't complained. The position afforded her a view of who came and went, although it could sometimes be distracting for the children. Now, she noticed the limo parked at the front of the building, and from the looks cast his way, she didn't doubt it belonged to him. "I ... Yes, I do, but you should know there is a school here in the city that trains children in all kinds of art. What I do here is more of a hobby for the children I teach. The school is exclusive, but I highly recommend it.” She knew from personal experience that Morningside School of Art was top notch. Up until two years ago, she had worked there. Jiro removed his glasses completely and stared into her eyes, making her feel mesmerized by his looks and his power. She swallowed hard, but a lump remained in her throat. "I'm not looking for an exclusive school; I'm looking for someone who is not only good at what they do, but personable. Ayumi deserves no less. Now, name your price." Kiara frowned. Sure she needed the money, but his arrogant attitude grated on her nerves. She would have loved to turn him down. Unfortunately, every little bit helped. Again, she glanced toward his fancy ride and doubled her fee. She appeased her conscious telling herself she would give Ayumi her all and see that the girl learned to be the best her ability could produce. Lately, that hadn't been much with her students. The ones with the talent soon moved on to better opportunities, or their parents could no longer afford the fees. And Kiara couldn't afford to give away the time. Jiro slid his glasses in place. “Agreed. Tuesday and Thursday afternoons good for you?" When she nodded, he pivoted on his heel and guided his sister out the door. She returned to her lesson, but only for a second before she jumped from her stool to run after him. A moment later, she burst through the door out into the sunlight. Shielding her eyes, she stumbled toward the curb. A hand at her elbow stopped her from stepping into the street. "Careful,” he snapped, not too unkind. She trembled in fear anyway. She glanced up in his eyes, wondering if he removed his glasses only so she could get lost in his gaze. “I-I..." "Yes?" "I told you too much. I'm sorry." He smiled, and her heart skittered. “Having an attack of conscious, Ms. Jackson?" What could she say? That she had purposely cheated him because he could afford it? Should she lie so he wouldn't take his sister to someone else, someone more honest? Too late, she realized either course would make her look bad in his eyes. Her admission to charging too much had ruined her in his eyes. "I just overcharged, that's all. You can take Ayumi to someone else, if you like. If you don't want to enroll her in the school just yet, then I can recommend a friend. She's very skilled and patient with children, although she usually works with teens and adults." He had been handing his sister into the car. When she finished speaking, he shut the door and walked

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over to her, coming so close she considered taking a step backward. He towered over her, a waft of his cologne tempting her latent desire. “Let's get something straight, shall we?” he began. “I want you. Only you. And I am very used to getting exactly what I want." Kiara stood there with her mouth opening and closing, unable to put together two words to say in response to his double meaning. "Now, you will find that I am a man who sticks firmly to my agreements. Therefore, the original fee I settled on stands. Have a good day, Kiara.” He bowed, just his head, as those of his culture often did, twisted and stepped into the limo. Only after the vehicle turned the corner did she allow herself to breathe, and wonder what changes the future held. **** "You're late!” Odell growled from his chair in front of the flat screen TV. Kiara said nothing. She hung her keys on the hook to the left of the door and slipped her shoes off to place neatly in a corner. On her way to the kitchen, she called over her shoulder. “I stopped by the art supply store. I needed more umber. The kids seem to—" Her next words were cut off from the stinging blow across her face. Kiara bumped the table, hurt her stomach and fell to the floor. She put a hand up to her stinging face, but said nothing. Better to just keep quiet until he went back to the TV. Instead, he stood over her, breathing hard. “What were you saying?" "Nothing,” she muttered. “Sorry, my mistake." She stood and moved to the refrigerator. That morning, she had set the last of the beef to marinate. Only after she found nothing but an empty egg carton inside the refrigerator did she notice the bowl in the sink. The beef was nowhere to be found. Tears in her eyes, her stomach growling, she whispered, “Odell, where's the meat I put in here this morning?" "I got hungry,” was his flat reply. “And a couple friends stopped over. I had to feed them." Her gaze fell on the frying pan hanging above the stove. The studio apartment might be small, but at every opportunity, she tried to add things that would spruce up the place. The wrack for hanging pots and pans over the stove had been one of her ideas. With the stove so narrow and the kitchen space limited, the idea seemed silly in retrospect. But that frying pan was wrought iron, found at a garage sale a year and a half ago. She had fried Odell's favorite food in it many times—French fries made from real potatoes and Polish hot dogs. At that moment, all she could think of was smashing his skull with the pan. "I haven't eaten all day.” She sniffed as tears fell down her cheeks. “The little money I did have went to paying down the electric bill in hopes that they won't turn it off. And you and your buddies ate the last of the food.” She gestured to the TV, an appliance she would never have wasted money on because there were just too many other bills neglected, and necessities. “You sit there every day staring at that thing, never caring whether this apartment is falling down around your ears." His brown eyes grew wide in anger. “Oh, you've come home in a mood. Looks like you have too much mouth for your own good.” He took hold of her by the back of her neck and squeezed hard. “You need

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to learn your place." Hunger had made her snappy and stupid. “I'm sorry, Odell. I didn't—" "Uh uhn. Too late!” He dragged her toward the bedroom while undoing his belt. Kiara's muscles already ached from sitting in the same position all day. Odell hadn't been kind in the last week—as if he ever was. She didn't think she could survive a beating tonight. She tried to resist his hold, but her hands trembled and her strength was a joke. “Please." "Shut the hell up!” He forced her toward the bed, bending her body so that her feet were on the floor and her face was shoved into the mattress. Kiara tried to turn her head to drag in a breath, but Odell didn't allow it. She ripped at the covers, beat with ineffective fists at his thighs and kicked at his ankles. Nothing worked. He flipped up her dress and tore off her panties. She had so few already and part of her panicked mind lamented the loss rather than focus on what he was about to do. She felt the belt drag across her rear, a torment he liked to inflict on her to warn her of what was coming. She sensed rather than saw him raise his arm. Someone banged on the door. He paused. The banging went on until he decided to answer. “Stay there. I'll be right back." Kiara turned her head and dragged in a breath. Tears wet the spot where she lay shaking and crying. When? When would she escape this? Maybe she never would. Someday he would kill her, but at least then she would be out of this miserable life. The phone rang. She stared at it, thinking the phone company had decided to accept her partial payment for the fifth month in a row. Not that she needed the phone much. No one called her. Odell had insisted, and he would lose it again if she missed any of his messages. She slid off the side of the bed to the floor and reached to the scratched second hand dresser for the cordless. “Hello?" "Kiara?” She gasped at hearing Jiro's sexy voice. "Yes." "I had forgotten to ask if I needed to bring Ayumi with supplies, and if so, what she needs to bring,” he explained. Kiara brushed tears from beneath her eyes and smoothed down her hair, like Jiro could see what a mess she was or that Odell had been about to hurt her. “I ... yes. How did you get this number?" "I'm pretty sure you gave it to me.” He paused. “Are you okay? Your voice sounds fuzzy. Stuffy nose maybe?" His concern touched her, although it was nothing more than common courtesy, she was sure. “Yes, I'm fine. Do you have a pen and paper? I'll give you the list now. For the pencils I name, please try your best to get the numbers and brands I indicate. They offer the best results. Some parents argue with me and say a number two should be fine, but when you're dealing with kids who don't always follow instructions on going light on the paper, the pencils I recommend work."

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She heard the smile in his voice and remembered his slanted black eyes. They closed to just slits with his thick dark lashes. A man should not be that damn hot. She pushed the thoughts from her mind and focused on giving him the supply list. He was just a student's guardian, no more. Besides, her situation didn't allow for anything else. "That's all you will need for the time being.” She heard Odell ending his conversation. “I have to go now.” She didn't give him a chance to say anything more, but pressed the Off button on the phone and tossed it on the dresser. Odell stepped into the room, threw money on the bed and left again. Soon she heard the TV blaring. She looked to find twenty dollars crumbled at her side. Terrified that he had started something illegal, she went to the living room. “Where did you get this?" "Does it matter?” he grumbled. “Go to the store and get something to eat, and shut the hell up about it or I'll take it back.” She wasn't about to argue. Not only had she avoided a beating, but she could fill her stomach. Maybe she would even splurge and buy her students a donut for the morning class. She thought of Jiro again. Just meeting him had brought a little sunshine in her life. Hopefully, there would be more. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Two Kiara dragged in a nervous breath and adjusted her grip on the Cajun cake in her hands. Visiting Dennis wasn't the easiest, but he was her only family. And even if her cousin acted like he didn't like her, she would not give up on him. Besides, he wouldn't be on this Earth much longer. She used her hip to bump open the door while pasting a smile on her face. “Hey, Dennis. What's up? I brought you a present.” She held the cake higher for him to see. He squinted, the sour look on his face not failing in the least. "You? When are you going to get tired of trying, Kiara?” he complained. “Oh, probably when I'm dead. If you're hoping for an inheritance to help you take care of your good for nothing boyfriend, forget it. I'm just short of being as broke as you are." Kiara imagined snuffing the last of his life out with his pillow over his head, but tamped down such evil thoughts. The man was three times her age and dying of heart disease. She needed to overlook his meanness. “Of course not. I'm here because I love you, Dennis. You're my cousin, my only family. And look here, I've brought you your favorite, Cajun cake. I made it myself." He grumbled but took the cake. “They don't allow me this kind of food, but I'll take it. Maybe someone else will like it. You can't cook worth a damn." She wasn't fooled. Her cousin scoffed down whatever she brought him. Kiara might not have much, but she could cook if she did say so herself. Dennis would eat most of the cake before he was persuaded to share with anyone else from a stuffed belly. She had learned long ago how to get him to accept her, at least in part.

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She smiled. “You don't fool me, Dennis.” She set the cake on the table in front of him and produced a plastic knife and saucer from her purse. As she cut a slice, she reviewed the ingredients to entice him. “I know how you love pineapple, so I added a little extra, although the recipe only called for one can. And the flaked coconut, the pecans and vanilla with sugar. Yum! You know you want it." Pretending, she was about to serve herself the thick slice, she nearly laughed out loud at his grunt of annoyance. “Give it to me, damn it! If it will make you shut up.” He took a huge bite and smacked while he ate. Kiara decided against having a slice of her own. “Have you left him yet?" "Many times.” No matter how many times she explained to Dennis that Odell managed to find her each time she left him, he wouldn't believe she desperately wanted to get away, to feel safe. “The last time, four months ago, nearly killed me." He licked his finger and pressed it to the crumbs left on his plate. “Looks like you're still dying. Thin as a rail, hair all stringy.” He shrugged. “You're dying anyway." She ran a hand through her shoulder length brown-black hair. Yes, it was thinner lately, but it had never been as coarse and thick as she would have liked, as she admired on other African American women. Perhaps it was because her great grandmother was a full-blooded Cherokee. No matter. She wasn't a complete anecdote either, as Dennis seemed to think. “I am not dying. I happen to be a healthy weight for my five foot five inch frame, and at twenty-eight, I'm in great shape." "You're a short bean pole." "Well, I'm not here to argue with you, Dennis. How are you? Do you need anything?" His eyebrow went up at that last question, but he said nothing. Kiara knew that look. It meant whether he needed anything or not, she had no means of getting it. That wasn't always true. Sometimes, she could barter her time and skills to get the things she needed. On many occasions, she had convinced people to let her do a mural on their walls in exchange for food or other items. "I have a new student. Her older brother brought her by yesterday.” She straightened his room as she spoke. “I think this may be a great opportunity for me, especially for the simple fact that he has money. He can afford to pay. And if his sister has talent and enough interest, I might be able to hold on to this one for a long time. It's money I can depend on." Dennis cut a new piece of cake. “That's a big if ." "Don't be so negative.” She cleaned up the mess he made and put the cake to the side. His eyes followed the treat as it moved. “I believe this will turn into a big break for me. Just wish me luck for once, Dennis." "Luck!” He crammed the cake in his mouth with vengeance. “Luck? There's no such thing!” Too late, she sensed the tirade coming, the pity party following too much sugar. Why hadn't she remembered that before trying to buy his affection with her dessert? “Where was luck when I was born to a man who thought it was fun to beat and bang on my mother? Where was luck when he went too far and killed her then himself? I certainly was right there to see it all, to see him pull that trigger. And you,” he spat in disgust. “Following in your aunt's shoes, letting a man beat you. You think I'll let myself care about you? I won't. I have no respect for people who let this happen. You're weak and stupid." She stood. “Maybe I should go."

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He went on as if she hadn't spoken. “The only good thing about you is that you haven't brought any children in this world to watch the destruction. Sure won't catch me having kids. It ends right here. When this heart gives out, that's it. That's it for this godforsaken family and good riddance." "Dennis ... “she attempted. "Shut up!” He pressed his hands over his ears like a child. “I don't want to hear the excuses that you've run away and he finds you. You wanted to be found. You think he loves you, that's why he hits you!" Kiara clenched her hands at her sides. She knew her cousin needed to calm down. He couldn't be upset, and if the doctor found out, he might not let her visit. “You're wrong,” she muttered. He fell silent. “I know he hates me, maybe more than he hates himself. I don't feel like he's all I can get or that I somehow deserve this. Unlike your experience, my parents were wonderful. I miss them with all my heart, and regret every day I didn't go on that trip the time they were killed in that avalanche because I was too ill to go. Tragedy has followed this family like a curse. But I haven't given up. I believe that some day I will escape. I will experience love and happiness. I just don't know how to get free right now. But I will. I promise you, I will." He waved his hand in disbelief, but he had calmed. The rant had tired him out. Now, he seemed to want to be left alone. Kiara lowered his bed some, pulled his blanket up to his chin and turned to leave. His words behind her, made her pause at the door. "What happened to me happened so many years ago, Kiara. And some say I should have gotten over it by now, but the fact that I never have is a testament to how abuse destroys a life. If I have a few months left or a few years, it's too long to watch you let that man take your life a little at a time. Don't bother coming back. Not even Cajun cake is worth it." **** Hoisting her bag more securely on her shoulder, Kiara took the hour and a half bus ride out to the county, where she knew she would fare better in selling a few portraits and doing some bartering with the richer, but still frugal residents. Two strip malls were along her bus route, and if she humped it a mile, she could get over to the indoor mall. Right then, she didn't have enough to get home, let alone take another bus ride. She wasn't worried; she had done this a thousand times before. She strolled along the walkway in the strip mall, looking for the ideal place. A pizza place, an insurance office, a hair and nails salon. She stopped. The painting of a hand on the door looked slightly worn and in peeking through the door to the interior, she saw that the only decor on the walls were a few advertisements. Bland . She slipped inside. "May I help you?” the Asian woman asked as soon as she crossed the doorframe. Kiara nodded. “Yes, please. I noticed your hand painting on the door as I passed by, and I'm sure I can be of help to you. Let me show you a few things..." Twenty minutes later and she had a sale, but unfortunately, not only could she not start work on their busiest day, she wouldn't get paid a dime until the job was done. That meant she would need to raise the funds to come back out, plus gather enough paints to do the mural she had talked the woman into. Squaring her shoulders for the next pitch, she started along the walk again, praying the next place would give her immediate work.

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"Ms. Jackson!" She stopped and turned at the young voice calling to her. Shading her eyes against the sun, she spotted Ayumi of all people on the other side of the street, holding a man's hand she didn't recognize. Disappointment that it wasn't her brother made Kiara smile, wave and then continue on. "Wait, Ms. Jackson. Please." She stopped once again. Before she knew what the girl intended, she broke away from the man holding her hand and hurled herself into Kiara's arms. Taken aback at the over-friendly manner when she had been shy and quiet when they met, Kiara stumbled and righted herself. “Hello, Ayumi." The girl grinned up at her, face red with embarrassment. “Oh, sumimasen . I'm sorry. I have been speaking with Jiro-san about my lessons so much, I felt like I knew you. Please, don't be offended. I want to learn to draw well so much." Kiara, overjoyed at the girl's enthusiasm, patted her face. “Don't worry. I'm not offended. I'm glad you're excited. I find people learn much faster and easier when they are excited about what they are doing.” She glanced up at the frowning man behind Ayumi who looked like he wanted to reprimand the girl but didn't in front of Kiara. Ayumi leaned toward Kiara to whisper, “My babysitter. Don't mind him. He's a grump, and he treats me like a little kid. I'm nine for goodness sake and don't need my hand held to cross the street." Kiara laughed. All semblance of respectful Japanese girl was gone to be replaced by a regular old American. She knew immediately that she liked Ayumi either way. "Ms. Jackson, why don't you come to lunch with us? I would love to talk about what you will be teaching me on Tuesday.” Kiara laughed. Now the girl sounded like an adult. "I'm sorry, sweetie. I have some errands to run. I'll have to take a rain check.” Kiara extracted herself from the girl's hold. “I will see you on Tuesday for sure, bright and early." Like her brother, Kiara guessed, Ayumi was not used to taking no for an answer. “You can do errands any time, after lunch maybe. Come on, please?" Kiara had been focusing on Ayumi and did not hear anyone come up, but when she heard his deep resonant voice, a shiver spread through her body. He spoke to Ayumi in Japanese, and she answered in the same. Kiara took her time straightening and turning to face him. Her heart fluttered. Today, he was dressed casually, although just as tastefully, in a collared shirt, shorts and sandals. The obligatory glasses hid his eyes. "Forgive me.” He bowed. “Good afternoon, Kiara.” She pretended the funny way he said her name did nothing to her insides. “I asked my sister if she was bothering you. She informed me that she asked you to lunch, and you declined. May I ask why?" Kiara blinked. He actually waited politely for her to respond, to offer a reasonable explanation for why should wouldn't join them. “I..." "While I would never want to spoil my sister, I do not tell her no for the sake of it. So if there is nothing

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pressing that can't wait an hour, please allow her to take you to lunch." "Her ... to ... take me ?” She knew she sounded like a complete idiot. He made it sound like Ayumi had money of her own and would be treating Kiara. He confirmed her thoughts. “Oh yes. Occasionally, Ayumi gets it into her head that she must return the kindnesses she feels I've heaped on her and she will then invite me to lunch. She pays with her own money. I graciously accept, although I take care of her as a duty and an honor. I love her deeply." Kiara swallowed and tried to find words. "Will you also honor my sister's request?" Honor, she thought. She didn't understand much about their ways, she was sure, but she wanted to do just what he asked, honor Ayumi's request. “Okay, yes. I will." He smiled, setting her off balance. “Good, it's settled." **** Jiro dismissed the ‘babysitter’ for the day and took Ayumi and Kiara up in his car. Lunch turned out to be at a restaurant that while it didn't have a dress code, it was quite expensive. The prices on the menus made her head spin, and out of habit, she scanned to find the cheapest. Ayumi leaned over to her to speak in a loud whisper. “I always get the chicken fingers and fries. I've been to a million fancy restaurants all over the world, and most of them serve normal food along with that crazy stuff. You can't go wrong with chicken fingers." Kiara laughed. “Sounds like a good idea, but shouldn't I try something I've never had?" With a straight face, the young girl asked, “Have you ever had the chicken fingers here?" "No." She winked. “Then trust me. They are delicious. Get ranch dressing and honey mustard both.” She lowered her voice this time. “You'll want to lick your fingers, but of course Jiro-san won't let you." Kiara slapped a hand over her mouth and tears ran down her cheeks before she could stop laughing. Just two minutes in Ayumi's presence, and she had made her day. Yet, as soon as she met Jiro's eyes, her humor settled. She was too attracted to the man for her own good. She cleared her throat. “Sorry." "No problem at all.” He grinned. “Ayumi has that affect on everyone she meets. I like seeing that beautiful smile of yours." She fidgeted. He held up his hands in surrender. “I'm sorry. That was crossing the line. Come, we'll talk of whatever you like, and I will not make inappropriate statements that make you uncomfortable. What would you like to talk about?" Ayumi led the conversation with talk of art until their food arrived. Kiara had to agree. The food was good enough to lick her fingers, but she resisted with a wink at Ayumi. The girl was overjoyed at their

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little secret, making Kiara wonder where her mother was. She didn't ask. "What do you do?” She had assumed this was a simple question, not prying in any way as people loved discussing what they did for a living, whether it was to complain about it or sing praises that they were lucky enough to be doing it at all. Jiro went stiff and quiet, and Ayumi began to hum pointedly while dipping her chicken in her sauce. “I...” she began. He waved two fingers. “I work in the family business.” His tone told her to drop it. She did. “Tell me more about you? Any family?" She hated talking about herself, but wanted the conversation to move smoothly. Besides, if she was forthcoming, maybe he would be. “Not much. My parents were killed hiking in the Chugach National Forest. An avalanche came down on them." "Alaska?” he questioned knowledgeably. She nodded with tears in her eyes, even after so many years. “Yes, I should have been there but I couldn't go. I was sick with a fever at the last minute before they flew out there. They left me with my cousin. My only living relative." "I'm sorry. That must hurt still after so long." "Yes, it feels like it was yesterday. They were so great, taking me everywhere, or as many places as my dad's money could afford. The Alaska adventure had been in the works for three years before we could go. I was disappointed, so angry with them for leaving me. I would have gone if I had to be carried on the plane." "Mmm." Not to be left out of the conversation, Ayumi spoke up. “I know how it feels to lose my parents too, Ms. Jackson. My parents were murdered. They—" "Ayumi, enough!” her brother growled. Kiara jumped. She stared at him in surprise, but he didn't appear to regret his meanness. Possibly he hurt just as bad as she did if their parents had been murdered. She studied Ayumi who sat sullen not sad in her chair. She shuffled apple pie and ice cream around on her plate, and Kiara suspected she had eaten too much before the dessert. A classic case of eyes bigger than the stomach, she guessed. After a while, Jiro spoke again, calmer, back to his quietly kind voice. “My family is into the import-export business. We shift around anything from cars to computers. You name it, we have our fingers into it. It is big business, and I help to keep things running smoothly. It's what I have always known I would do and what I have been doing since I lost my twin brother and my parents, as Ayumi so indelicately stated. Now, family is everything to me. Our honor, our traditions come before all else, except for Ayumi." Kiara tried to understand. “I'm so sorry for your loss. I can't even begin to imagine losing a sibling, let alone a twin. I can see how Ayumi has become everything to you. Do you mean if it was ever a question of your honor or Ayumi, you would choose her?" He grinned. She bit her lip and he noticed, his eyebrow flicking upward with interest. “Yes, that's exactly

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what I mean. However, caring for her is one and the same." What must it be like to be so absolutely loved that someone would die for me? Would give up everything to keep me safe? Kiara stood. “Well, I thank you very much, Ayumi, for taking me to lunch. It's getting late, and I must go." Jiro stood and bowed slightly. Kiara nodded her head. She thought he would settle the bill, but Ayumi clicked open her purse and pulled out a credit card. The cost of the meal and the tip was soon settled. On the sidewalk outside, Jiro asked, “May I offer you a ride home, Kiara?" She shook her head. “No, thank you. I have some other things to do. If you could take me back to the strip mall where we met up, that would be great." To her relief, he agreed without argument. She hugged Ayumi and shook his hand and was soon off on her trek to make money. At least her feet didn't hurt, and her belly was full. That was a huge bonus in itself. She was able to face the next few hours with a positive attitude that produced fifty-three dollars before she headed back to the city on the bus. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Three Kiara stepped off the bus two blocks from her street, after an hour and a half ride. Even from her distance away, she could see Odell and friends camped out on the front steps of her building. Her heart sank. Most Saturdays, he disappeared for hours and didn't return until late at night. On those special occasions, he didn't come back for days. Too soon, she walked up to the steps and greeted them all. Odell's friends didn't respect her because he didn't. One of the men looked her up and down with a sneer. She couldn't remember his name, nor did she try. “Damn, Kiara, you used to be hot, could bounce a quarter off that round ass. Now, you ain't worth shit. Odell, why do you keep her, man?" Odell laughed. “She can cook." Another guy slapped the first one in the back of the head. “Can't tell by looking at her." They all fell out laughing while Odell frowned, and Kiara tried to squeeze by. He grabbed her ankle nearly making her fall over backward. “Where are you going?" She hesitated. “In the house. I'm tired. I thought I would lay down a while before cleaning the house." "No.” He stood up. “Get down here. We're going to see my mother. And where's that cake I smelled before? She might like a treat." Kiara thought fast. If she admitted to taking it to her cousin, Odell would go off complaining she cared more about her family than his, which she did of course, but the admission need not be made. It would only set him off and cost her pain. She lied. “I screwed up on the measurements. I can make another real

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quick." "Fine. Hurry up." She scurried into the house trying to think what she would do for eggs. She had budgeted the dozen she picked up from the corner store as that twenty dollars wouldn't buy much food. Maybe if she skimped on Odell's morning omelet, she could make it work. Flipping on the oven with one hand, she dug the other into the utility drawer by the sink for a book of matches. When she found them, she dropped to her knees and reached into the broiler section of the stove to light the pilot. “One day, I will never have to do this again,” she muttered. The cake turned out well, and since she had made some money out in the county, she could maybe walk down to the grocery store a few blocks away to pick up a few cheaper items. Not many, though. She needed to start saving up for more bills. She sighed at the thought. Why couldn't one ever pay off the electric, the rent or any other ongoing bill? There should be a law. She was soon strolling slightly behind Odell as they headed to his mother's house. Odell had had a car last year, given to him when his great uncle had gotten too old to drive. But Odell, living for the moment, decided to sell it for two hundred dollars to buy tickets to a concert he had been longing to attend. Now she had to listen to his incessant complaints about how much his feet hurt walking and what an idiot he had been for selling the car. She had to agree, but didn't voice that opinion out loud. May, Odell's mother, lived just eight blocks from Kiara's apartment. That was both a blessing and curse. When Odell was in a mood, he wasn't above humping it to his mother's place for a day or two. When he wanted to pretend he wasn't a loser and could hold onto a woman from sheer love, he dragged her along. May wasn't fooled. "Kiara, baby!” she exclaimed when Kiara walked through the door. “I haven't seen you in ages. Come here, girl, and give me a hug.” She dragged Kiara into her arms, squeezing so tight it hurt. “Are you taking care of him, Kee?” she whispered. Kiara cringed. She hated being called Kee, and only hoped Odell hadn't heard. He took great pleasure in tormenting her with the nickname when he remembered it, which thankfully wasn't often. She gave a vague nod and mumbled something she figured sounded in the affirmative. Odell flopped on a chair near the TV and popped open the beer he had swiped from the frig. “Hey, Ma, you got a couple dollars until payday?" May rolled her eyes, “You know damn well you ain't got a job, Odell. Why can't you be like your brother? He's a dentist, went to school and everything." "Oh here we go,” he shouted. “Why can't you accept me for who I am? Why does it always have to be about me and Otis? Huh? Damn, I come to visit you and look what I get." As usual, May's attitude changed in a heartbeat. She jabbed her hips with her hands and glowered at Kiara. “Girl, I don't get why you stay with him. He's my son and I'll always love him, but I couldn't take it. That's why I left his father years ago. Like father, like son." "You gonna stop that talking about my father, Ma,” Odell threatened. Kiara sat down, rubbing her temple. Odell was all bark when it came to his mother. Like he said, she loved Otis more, but Odell was

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always trying to win her over. Too bad, he didn't get she would accept him if he didn't continue to remind her of her cheating husband. Kiara would be caught in the middle for the next hour until they ran out of insults to hurl at each other. She wondered if she could cut it short early. “May, how about some cake? I made it especially for you. Odell asked me to because he knows how you love my desserts." She sucked her teeth. “Sucking up is what I call it.” She waved her hand. “Go on in the kitchen. You'll find what you need. Give me a little small piece.” Kiara grinned. Small to May meant big and thick. She had made the mistake of taking the woman literally just once. Glad of the excuse to get out of the living room, she slid to the end of the plastic-covered couch and headed into the kitchen. Busy slicing, she hadn't heard anyone entering behind her until arms encircled her waist and a hard shaft pressed against her ass. She swallowed her disgust. “Hey, Otis." "Hey.” He tried to kiss her on the lips, but she turned her head. “Why do you reject me, Kiara? I could take care of you, give you everything you could ever want." She paused in her slicing, examining the man before her who looked so much like Odell, he could be his twin, except that Otis was three years older and three inches shorter. Once upon a time, she had decided to take him up on his offer, if only to get away from Odell. That had been the fourth time she ran away. Then too, Odell had found them, together in bed, and nearly beat his brother to death. Kiara had promised herself she would never again bring another person into her misery, to risk their lives. She would get away from Odell on her own. "You forget what happened the last time,” she reminded him. He stroked her face. “We can try again." "No.” She saw the back door slightly open and went to close it as an excuse to get away from him. Otis must have parked in the back. She peered out the window and spotted his Mercedes. Showy . “I don't have feelings for you like that. I didn't then, but I admit I was desperate. I'm not risking your life again, and you seemed to forget that May had a slight heart attack behind that." He sighed, choosing the biggest slice of cake for himself. “That's because she loves that fool. I'm the one who spent years in college to get a job I hate. Odell's name still drips from her lips every time I turn around. It's not enough." "Maybe you should buy her a house.” Kiara couldn't get over how two grown men whined endlessly about who their mother loved more. She would have thought at thirty-four and thirty-seven they would have matured enough. Still, Otis did take care of his mother. He paid all of her bills and drove her where she wanted to go. He dropped everything to come at her call. Maybe that was only to shove Odell out of the picture, but it was something. He laughed. “You know that woman is not leaving this neighborhood. I've tried to get her to come live with me, but she won't. Says my area is too uppity, that she would miss her friends. The sad thing about it is, half of them have passed already." "Mmm, yes, that is sad,” she agreed. “Maybe moving would solidify it in her mind, make it all the more real that she could join them next week or next year."

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"True.” He stood chewing cake and staring down at the table. Finally, he said, “I have an idea. We can be lovers. Odell never has to find out. I remember making love to you. Your body is so beautiful. Those breasts, playing with your nipples..." "Stop!” she screeched. “Don't you dare fantasize about me. We are over. It was a mistake to get involved with you in the first place, but I thought you could take me away. Then how could you, being we would come back here for May.” She shook her head. “Let it go, Otis, please.” Then she had another thought. “If you really want to help me, you can let me paint a mural or two in your office. The kids would love it." He frowned. “I don't have many child patients." "Then I'll do something adults would love. I could use the money.” She willed him to say yes. "I'll think about it.” His gaze dropped to her breasts, and she felt naked before him. She quickly gathered the plate filled with slices of cake and hurried toward the door. No matter what she said, Otis wouldn't stop trying to get back with her. He wanted what he couldn't have. He stopped her before she could get out. “Wait, here take this.” He put a wad of bills in her hand. Her eyes widened. She had never been in love with money or one of those people who did anything for it, but when a person is so desperate, temptation was easy to give in to. “No, I can't take that.” She held it out to him. “I said I would paint a few murals..." "You know I don't like that crap, Kiara. Take the money. You need it, and I've got it. No big deal." "It is a big deal,” she insisted. She set the cake on the table again and turned to shove the money into his pants pocket. “The first time your desires get out of hand, you'll feel I owe you, that I have an obligation to open my legs to you. I won't let myself get into a situation like that. Thank you. Really. But no thanks. I'll make it on my own.” She snatched up the plate and fled the room. When she entered the living room, Odell looked up from the TV. His eyes narrowed on her. “What have you been doing, and why are you rushing in here?" Common sense should have told him that she was rushing from an unwanted situation, but when his brother entered soon after Kiara, his mind conjured deception on Kiara's part. She knew the signs. His fingers tensed around his can of beer, squeezing so hard liquid sloshed over the top onto his pants. That sent his temper up another notch. Kiara sat down and quickly served May a slice of cake. “Nothing. I just wanted to give May this cake while it was still warm. It's best straight from the oven." He frowned. “Whatever." Otis came around the back of the couch and sat down in the love seat. His erection was so obvious, even his mother noticed. Odell surged up from the chair, knocking over the coffee table and the plate. May shouted, “Now look what you've done, Odell. Clean this mess up. You've ruined the cake." "Sorry, Ma.” He grabbed Kiara's hand and dragged her up from her seat. “Let rich boy over there do it. He ain't got nothing to do with himself since he doesn't have a girl. I do.” His meaning was clear. “Let's

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go, Kiara!" At the door, May stopped him. “Now you wait right there, Odell. Let me say goodbye to May properly.” May shuffled toward them. “Come here and give me a hug, Kiara." She glanced at Odell, and he nodded tight-lipped. In a fog, knowing what note her night would end on, she moved to hug May some feet away. Over May's shoulder, she saw worry on Otis’ face but ignored it. “Night, May." May squeezed her. “Leave him, baby,” she whispered in Kiara's ear. She pushed something in Kiara's pocket. “Take this and leave him. I know he's my son and I love him, but I'm scared that...” She didn't finish. The elderly woman sniffed, stiffened her back and patted Kiara's shoulder. “Okay, y'all come back and see me real soon." "Yes, ma'am,” was Kiara's wooden response. She joined Odell at the door. He pinched the back of her neck and guided her outside. All the way home, he grumbled under his breath. His nostrils flared as he blew out his frustration. Yet, his anger mounted with each step. Eight blocks seemed like eight steps, and she desperately wished it was longer. She found herself looking around them at the cracked streets, the marble steps they passed, darkened alleys, wishing someone would jump out and mug them. If only someone would just distract him like what had happened Friday when whoever had been at the door helped to calm his anger. No such luck. She stepped behind him into the darkened apartment, and like a magician, she spirited away the money May had pressed into her pocket. As yet, Odell had not discovered her hiding place. No doubt May had given him something to shut him up. She could only wish it was enough for him to go find a bar and leave her be. Instead, when she hung the keys on a hook and slipped out of her shoes, without him turning on a single light, his fist found its mark. She screamed and hit the floor. He followed her down, punching over and over. "Please, Odell,” she begged. “I'm sorry." "Whore,” he accused. “What were you doing in there, Kiara? Rubbing his dick to get him worked up?" "No, I wouldn't do that." "Fucking liar!” He smacked her again. “You forget the last time?” He banged her head on the floor and tore open her blouse. “You want dick, Kiara? I've got some for you.” He pinched her nipples and smacked at her breasts over and over. She cried and pleaded. Her denial meant nothing to him. He straddled her chest, resting his rear so heavily she could barely breathe. She heard his zipper descend and the rustle of his clothing. The next thing she knew, he shoved his shaft into her mouth and pushed deep. "Suck it!" Snot coating her top lip and tears wetting her hair, she obeyed. Twice, she fainted because she couldn't get enough air, but he kept pushing. He smacked her face until she came around, and then he shoved in again. Only after he had emptied himself inside her mouth did he stop.

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Kiara coughed and sputtered. Odell stood up, walked over her and headed into the bedroom. A few seconds later, she heard the creak of the bed. Before she could find the strength to rise, he was storing. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Four Kiara unrolled the bag in her lap and withdrew the new tube of umber paint. She arranged it carefully on her rough wooden desk and straightened the rest of her supplies already there. When she saw movement in her peripheral vision, she glanced up to see Jiro guiding his sister through the glass doors of the community center. With a hand that trembled only slightly, she made sure her hair was in place to hide her swollen cheek. A welcoming smile on her lips, she rose in almost slow motion. “Good morning." Jiro bowed. “Good morning. It's good to see you again, Kiara. I trust your weekend was good?" "Okay, I guess. Thanks.” She turned to Ayumi. “Are you ready to get started?" The little girl nodded vigorously. “Yes! And I have my supplies too.” She tugged at the small suitcase Jiro held. He raised an eyebrow at her, and she immediately dropped her hands to her sides and straightened. “Jiro-san, may I have my suitcase please?" He handed it over. Kiara studied his handsome face. Did he make her afraid of him? No, she saw kindness there. But courtesy and respect were a huge part of their culture. He wanted Ayumi to learn it in a country where young people many times flouted those qualities. His comment confirmed her thoughts. “I indulge her much more than I should.” He gently squeezed Ayumi's chin and cheeks. “She forgets herself, but I will raise her to be a proper woman.” He clasped his hands behind his back. “I have a few errands to run. I will return in a couple of hours. Eiji will stay until I return.” He gestured to the man Ayumi had said was her babysitter. The frown on Ayumi's face mirrored Kiara's disappointment that Jiro was leaving. She hid it and smiled. “Of course. We need to get started anyway. I like to keep to a schedule or my day will be shot.” She busied herself with opening paints and arranging Ayumi's easel. Jiro's long gait carried him in a few steps to the door. He stopped and came back to lean in close to her ear. “You're hurting.” It was a statement of fact, not a question. “I can make it stop." Her eyes grew wide in shock, but he said no more. He exited the building without looking back, and as she sat staring after him, Ayumi tugged her arm. “Ms. Jackson?" She turned unseeing eyes to the blank canvas in front of her. “Y-Yes?" "Will we get started now?" Kiara shook herself, trying to focus. Had he really said what she thought she heard, and meant it? The implications ran through her mind. She knew nothing of this man. He seemed to be kindness itself, but she

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sensed an unseen strength in him also. He had been vague about what he did for a living, only admitting what his family's business entailed. Even that had been less than revealing. She looked down at Ayumi who sat fidgeting to get started. Picking the girl's brain for information on her brother would be low. She sighed and returned to the task at hand. “Okay, Ayumi, first I want you to show me what you already know." For the next two hours, they worked together. Where most of her students were tuckered out after an hour, Ayumi hung in there. Kiara sensed an artist after her own heart. The girl definitely had talent, and Kiara would help her to develop it no matter what. “It's refreshing to meet someone with your ability, Ayumi. Most of my students just like the thought of drawing and painting, not the actual work that goes into being good." Ayumi's face flushed. “Thanks, Ms. Jackson." Kiara hesitated. “Would your brother allow you to call me Kiara?" Cute little slanted eyes widened. “Yes! I mean, I hope so. Ms. Kiara, how's that? It still shows respect, don't you think?" She nodded. “Yes, and if he has any complaints, I'll talk to him about it. Now, time's almost up, so let's clean up our mess." Ayumi obeyed and began dunking her brushes in a fresh glass of water Kiara had brought back from the bathroom not too long ago. “He likes you, you know." "Hmm?” Kiara didn't look away from the notes she was making on Ayumi's progress and what she wanted to do with her on Thursday. “Who likes who?" The girl gently touched her arm, and she looked up. “Jiro-san likes you. I can tell. He's had many girlfriends. He doesn't think I know, but at the family functions, they flock around him, trying to get his attention. If he gives one a nod, they will come to his room." Kiara flinched. That's not what I call a girlfriend. That's a whore . She forced a smile. “I think your brother's ... ah ... love life is his business, sweetie, not mine." Ayumi bit her bottom lip, staring down into the glass as she swirled the brush around. “I know, but I wanted you to see that you're different. You wouldn't be at a family function of course, but even if you were, he wouldn't give you a nod." It was ridiculous that Kiara felt offended at that. "I mean, he would treat you with more respect.” She looked up into Kiara's eyes. “Do you understand? He likes you." "Who likes her?” Jiro had appeared from nowhere it seemed. Ayumi paled. Kiara held up a painting Ayumi had begun of a young boy. “This guy. He likes me according to Ayumi. Do you agree?" Jiro chuckled, his eyes sparkling. “Hmm, what's not to like?"

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A shiver ran over her body. She imagined if her skin weren't so brown, she might look as pale as Ayumi at his words. For a man who was so careful about what he said and did, he sure seemed easy with the compliments. She almost believed Ayumi was right, that her brother liked her. A rich, sexy Japanese man. Yeah right. "Thank you,” she mumbled. “I'm nothing special, just a freelance art teacher.” She stood and busied her hands cleaning up, to avoid his gaze. He reached out to touch her arm. Shivers of delight zipped through her. “Don't say that. Never put yourself down. You are more than special, unique and beautiful.” He made as if he would tilt her chin up but put his hands behind his back. “I've never seen eyes so big and brown ... lips...” He cleared his throat and fell silent. She spun away to put some space between them and thought she heard him gasp. Had her hair blown back from her cheek? She glanced up at him, but his face remained impassive. “I ... um, the session went well with your sister. She's very talented, and I believe she will be a great artist some day. I hope you will take her ability seriously and allow her to continue to come." He didn't speak for a long time. She waited for the lecture, the accusation that she was weak or stupid. Her personal situation had garnered a range of reactions over the last three years she had been stuck with Odell. Whatever he had to say wouldn't be anything new. Steeling herself, she waited expectantly. "Regret is a powerful emotion,” he said simply. That took her off guard. “What?" His eyebrows went up as if to say how could she not understand what he meant. “Living with regret. Very powerful. It can affect you for years, maybe the rest of your life. So it is important to weigh your actions and words, decide what you can live with and what you cannot." Kiara blinked in confusion. She had no idea what in the world he was talking about. Of course she knew about regret. She regretted not going with her parents that time when they died and that she had yelled in anger at them, saying they thought more of each other than her. Maybe that was what Jiro meant. “Yes, regret can eat you up and make you miserable. I know that first hand." He nodded. “Exactly. And so when I offer to help you, you must think long and hard about what you can live with." Her eyes widened as she stared up at him. What exactly was he offering? A tremor started in her stomach and worked its way through her body. No, she was reading more into his words than she thought. Maybe he was like Otis, wanting to sleep with her, and so offering his help. She calmed down at that thought. He must be asking if he offered to help her, could she live with giving herself to him in exchange. Anger rose inside her. Who did he think he was offering her money in exchange for sex? Is that what he thought all women did? Did he have a thing for black women? Ayumi hadn't said the women flocking around him at the family functions were black. Then again, what were they even doing at a family function? She looked around to be sure his sister was out of earshot and placed her hands on her hips. “For your

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information, a lot of women may scramble to get your attention, and do anything to get your money, but I am not one of them. I am not going to sell you my body, so you can forget it. I didn't do it for a dentist, and I'm not doing it for a ... a ... whatever it is you really do!" Turning away from his stunned expression, she swallowed a few choice curse words. She gathered her things, ignoring the cries of her sore muscles and marched toward the closet to lock the easels and other supplies away. Regret did wash over her that the two students scheduled for the afternoon had called to cancel. Now she would not have that money because parents didn't pay when they didn't bring their children. Never mind that she had committed the time and could have filled the spot. Irritated, she yanked the string that turned on the light and began maneuvering her easels in a tight corner. When that was done, she examined her usual shelf where she stored her paints overnight. She had three students tomorrow, and with her body achy, she really wanted to leave her paints here. But lately, she felt someone had been going through her things. Nothing had gone missing ... yet. With a sigh, she slipped the case on the shelf and turned to exit the closet. Jiro stood in the exit, blocking the way. He had folded his arms across his wide chest. The muscles of his arms were so big, she found herself short of breath. Not from fear though, from desire. "For the record, I was not offering you money for your body." "Oh.” She felt like an idiot. She took a tentative step toward him, and he moved to the side. The bulk of his body took up most of the doorway even turned to the side. She had to squeeze by. Her hip brushed his thigh, and this time, she was certain he gasped. Hiding a smile, she continued out of the closet, hearing him follow. "Do you have other clients today or other work?” he asked. "No.” She should probably try to scrounge up some more work, but she didn't feel like it. A free afternoon was so rare, she decided to take advantage of it. Maybe a little brainstorming at the library might help her to come up with new ways to make money. "Great, then you can spend it with Ayumi and me,” he offered. “I try to spend as much time with her during the summer months as possible. Today, we will go to the beach. Before I came back, I picked up the picnic basket Cook made for us." Cook?“The beach? I haven't been there in years.” She shook her head. “Too busy chasing after the dollar." "Good, then you'll come.” He smiled, and she pretended his gentleness didn't make her want to cry. "I can't. I don't have a suit. Like I said, I haven't been in years.” By this time, they had rejoined Ayumi in the lobby with Eiji. Ayumi threw her arms around Kiara. “Did Jiro-san ask you about going to the beach with us, Ms. Kiara? Please say you'll come. Please? Jiro-san is boring at the beach. He doesn't do anything but read reports and talk on his cell phone. I want someone to come who will play with me." Kiara grimaced, but forced a smile. “I don't own a swimsuit, sweetie. Like I was telling your brother. I haven't been to the beach in a while."

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The facts didn't bother Ayumi. “That's okay. Jiro-san can buy you one." "Ayumi!” Jiro frowned. “That's very inappropriate." Unperturbed, Ayumi tapped her jaw thinking. “Well, it's a private beach, so what's wrong with a pair of shorts and a t-shirt? Come on, Ms. Kiara, you know you want to." Kiara laughed. “I guess I do want to. It's been so hot lately." The little girl wiggled her eyebrows. “Yes, it has. And we've got lots of food. Cook made all my favorites." "Okay, okay, I'll go.” She thought about whether it was safe to go back home to get a change of clothing. Normally, Odell went out during the day and only returned when he knew she was back from work. They could get in and out quickly, or she could. She would not allow Ayumi or her brother inside her tiny home. They would probably think it was no bigger than a closet at their house. Then again, she could be stereotyping the rich. Their house could be moderate-sized and Jiro just liked being carted around in a limo. Yeah right. Jiro, who had been standing by quietly while his sister did the convincing, moved up behind her. “Well then, it's settled. Let's go." Kiara dragged in a shuddering breath. He was so near, she felt the heat of his body, but he didn't touch her. Common sense told her to stop going out with these two, to keep everything on a professional level, but Jiro Fuschida spelled temptation, and right now, she didn't have the power to resist. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Five "Jiro." "Hmm?” He looked up, his eyes hidden behind his glasses. Kiara brushed sand from her fingers and legs, trying to force herself to broach the subject she had been thinking about ever since that morning. “What did you mean when you said you know I'm hurting and you can make it stop?" He reached out to stroke her hair, which hung across half her face. When he tucked it behind her ear, she moved away, but he quickly caught her chin. She didn't resist. His thumb brushed the bruise on her cheek before his fingers trailed down to her jaw and then to her neck. A chill shook her. "Five years ago,” he began, “a man who thought he deserved to get a large percentage of my family's holdings took it upon himself to take my mother, father and brother for ransom, to force my grandfather to pay him. I had flown to Fukuoka with Ayumi to check out a school for her there. By the time, I returned, my grandfather had already refused to pay anything and my parents and brother were dead." She put up a hand to cover his. “I'm so sorry, Jiro. I know how much that hurts, and to think your

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grandfather did nothing." His mouth tightened. She wondered if he considered her insulting his grandfather. “I'm sorry,” she said again, dropping her hand to her lap. She would have moved away, but he caught her hand. "What I have to live with,” he explained, “is that Grandfather asked me to get ... involved. I had refused. Now, it was too late and my family was dead because of me not him." She couldn't believe he would blame himself for a madman. And none of this explained why he had said what he did to her earlier. "Kiara, you must think about what you can live with, without regret, or with it, in order to live your life in safety.” He released her hand, and she stood, took her hair out from behind her ear and strolled over to where Ayumi built a sand castle. "Need some help?” she offered. Ayumi grinned. “Sure." They worked together shaping the sand, running back and forth with a bucket for more water and using cups to form towers and the keep. Ayumi dug the moat and then spent the better part of forty-five minutes trying to fill it. The water kept being absorbed into the sand. Finally, she gave up and sat back on her haunches. "Well, it still looks great. Don't you think, Ms. Kiara?" Kiara nodded. “Yes, I think we did well, if I do say so myself." Ayumi moved to stand. “Let's show it to Jiro-san. He'll be impressed." Kiara grabbed her arm. “Wait. Not just yet, okay?" The girl hesitated. Her wise little eyes bore into Kiara, making her squirm, like she knew all of Kiara's insecurities, just as her brother seemed to know. Ayumi's gaze dropped to the sand, and she idly scooped moist sand from the moat. “You found out what he does, didn't you? And now you don't like him." Kiara gasped. “W-What he does?" She nodded. “Yes, that he's an assassin, kills people for a living." Her head beginning to spin, Kiara put up a hand to her temple. She wanted to deny Ayumi's words, chalk them down to the active imagination of a nine-year-old, but she couldn't. Jiro had been hesitant about saying exactly what he did. And he had said he could help her, but she would need to be able to accept her decision without regret. Why would she need to think about regret if Jiro were only offering her a way out that didn't weigh on her conscious? Ayumi had said it so matter-of-factly. This type of lifestyle was apparently normal to her. To deliberately take another person's life was wrong. Assassin? That meant someone out there decided they wanted another dead, and they paid Jiro to do it. She glanced over her shoulder at him sitting calmly in his chair. As usual, she couldn't see his eyes, but he had seemed to be the nicest person she had ever met, if a little

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on the stiff side. Underneath it all, he was a ruthless killer. That goes to show what a poor judge of character she was. Taking for granted that Kiara accepted her brother's vocation, Ayumi stood and pulled Kiara to her feet. “Come on, let's go for a swim." They ran hand-in-hand to the water. Kiara echoed Ayumi's shriek at the chilly spray, and then they boldly splashed into it until they could dip down neck deep. Teeth chattering, Kiara stumbled backward when Ayumi flicked water on her and bumped into a hard chest. She turned to find Jiro gazing down at her wet T-shirt. "Oh, sorry.” She looked down too realizing her nipples were clearly defined. She crossed her arms over her chest and squatted again. "No harm done.” He smiled. “I decided to prove my little sister wrong when she said I never have any fun at the beach. I'm proud to say I did not take one phone call or read one report." Ayumi whooped and threw herself into her brother's arms. Kiara laughed. A Japanese Americanized girl probably threw his whole ordered life off kilter. She had a suspicion that no matter how much he tried, Ayumi would be her own woman when she grew up. She might respect his traditions, but embracing them was a different matter entirely. "Let's have a race,” Ayumi suggested. “I've been practicing my swimming and I'm pretty sure I can beat you, Jiro-san." He smirked. “I doubt that." "Well?” she challenged. His grin included Kiara. “All right. Will you join us, Kiara?" She shook her head. “Oh no, you two go ahead. In fact, if you go down a little ways and swim toward me, I will be the judge." They agreed and moved off while Kiara watched them. Jiro didn't show much affection in public, but she knew he adored Ayumi and vice versa. They stood teasing each other with words as Jiro enjoyed doing, neither in a hurry to race. Kiara glanced around the area. Ayumi had been right about the beach being private. Not a soul occupied it other than them. On the sand, looking hot and sweaty in a suit, Eiji stood at attention. She considered what Ayumi had told her and thought that Eiji wasn't a babysitter so much as a bodyguard. The knowledge chilled her. She wondered if he had a gun under his jacket and if that was why he didn't remove it in this heat. As perceptive as Ayumi was, she prayed that the girl was mistaken about Jiro. But how could she be? Surely he hadn't admitted it to her, had he? Was knowing all aspects of what her family was involved in a part of her upbringing even if she was too young to know? Questions swirled in her mind, including the question of whether she would tell Jiro she could no longer teach Ayumi if it turned out that he really did kill people for a living. That decision, accepting him as he was, was another challenge. And maybe it was what he was getting to when he asked her about living with her decisions. ****

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Ayumi looked up from her drawing. “Ms. Kiara?" "Hmm?" "I've enjoyed these last few weeks with you,” she said shyly. Kiara put down her notebook to smile at the girl. So had she, but she didn't admit how much. “Not just the lessons,” Ayumi admitted. “The lunches and the spending time together. I know we had to drag you along many times, but I think it was good for you too." Kiara dropped her gaze. “It was, but...” She hesitated to continue. How could she admit that Odell was pressuring her to drop her most profitable student? Why? Why did they have to go back to the apartment that last time for her to change her clothes? She had not imagined that Odell would be there. One look at Jiro, and he had hit the roof. Now she was a dirty whore selling herself to foreigners, according to him. "You think I'm some kind of fool, Kiara?” he had demanded, twisting her arm painfully. “Get your ass out there and tell him you ain't going, that you changed your mind." "But Odell, I already said—” she began. He smacked her with the back of his hand, hard enough to sting, not enough to bruise or swell. “Tell him you're not going. No, scratch that. Tell him you won't be able to teach his brat anymore either." Her eyes had widened in shock. “Odell, his money is what I gave you last night. You know how iffy my work is right now. Please, we can't afford not to have this student. I won't go anywhere with them from now on, okay? Let's just leave it at that." He had eyed her with disgust, playing with his goatee. “Okay, from now on you don't go anywhere with them, just teach the girl and that's it." "Great—" "And ... whatever he pays you, you give it directly to me. Otherwise, you quit." A little sunshine, just a little is all she wanted, and Odell wanted to snatch it away. What choice had she had? None. She had sent Ayumi and Jiro on their way saying she had forgotten an appointment she couldn't miss. They had argued for her to reschedule it, but she stood firm. Now here she was wondering how she would tell Ayumi that there would be no more outings with her. Ayumi's eyes sparkled. “So many times I hoped that my brother would settle down and get a girlfriend who would last for a while, one that was nice and who would spend time with me. For a while, I could pretend I had a mother like other girls." Kiara's head spun. There was no response that would be adequate or satisfying to the girl. She was in no position to even pretend to be a mother figure to Ayumi. Jiro and she were not dating. “Ayumi, you understand that I'm not dating Jiro. In fact, I have a boyfriend." "Not one that's any good." Her eyes widened, and then she became angry. For once, she saw the frustration Jiro had in handling

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Ayumi. “That's none of your business, and you shouldn't be commenting on what you don't know." Tears filled the girl's eyes. “I'm sorry. Don't be mad at me, Ms. Kiara. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I would never want to do that." Kiara said nothing. She closed her notebook and sat it on the desk. She glanced up to see that Eiji was in his usual spot, and she left Ayumi sitting in her chair while she crossed to the hall leading to the bathroom. Once inside, she let her tears fall. For a few minutes, she indulged in self-pity and then blew her nose, wiped her face and turned to go. A man blocked the exit. She cried out and stumbled back away from him. "See this, Ms. Jackson?” He held up a gun with a silencer on the end. Her chest constricted. “If you don't cooperate with me, I will put a bullet through your heart, and then I will put one in that pretty girl. Do you want that?" She couldn't find her voice, but shook her head. "Good.” He flipped unkempt blond hair back over his forehead. “I want you to lean out the door and call Ayumi to you. If the bodyguard looks suspicious, say you need Ayumi to bring your purse, because you have female issues. Got it?" Forcing herself to calm down, she swallowed. “Just take me, okay? Leave Ayumi out of this." He laughed. “Why would I do that? She is the prize, not you. Although I will take you too to keep her in line. I hate kids.” He waved the gun. “Do it now." Searching her mind for some way of escape, Kiara leaned out the bathroom door. She did not want to put Ayumi at risk, and wondered if she could somehow signal to Eiji that someone was in the bathroom with her. As she leaned out about to call, a girl she had seen around the center skipped up to the door. Kiara blocked the way. “Sorry, sweetie, there's a problem in here. Can you use the one on the second floor?" The girl nodded and hurried away. A jab in Kiara's back made her cry out. “Get on with it,” the man whispered. "A-Ayumi, c-can you bring me my purse please?” she called. The man behind her growled. “You can do better than that. She barely heard you. Call her again, and this time, stop the damn quivering in your voice." She swallowed, willing Jiro to come, but they still had an hour to go in the lesson. She remembered surmising whether he took off to kill someone in between dropping Ayumi off and picking her up. Surely, it didn't work that neatly. In the weeks she had known him, she had deftly avoided confronting him about his work. The joy of the moments in his presence, living for even such a short period without fear, had been indescribable. Now she wasn't so sure, not with a gun pressed in her back. "Ayumi,” she called out louder, “please bring me my purse." Eiji rounded the corner alert. She forced a smile. “Okay?” She knew he spoke little English. She nodded. “Female problems.” At his confusion and the pressure in her back, she pointed downward

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toward her vagina. Eiji went so pale she thought he would faint. Ayumi bounded around the corner with her purse, an eager look in her eyes. Kiara guessed she was happy she was not mad at the girl anymore. Guilt hit her hard. When they were both inside with the door firmly shut and locked quietly by the man with the weapon, Kiara gathered Ayumi in her arms, muttering, “I'm sorry, baby. I'm so sorry." Ayumi seemed calmer than she was, but she held onto Kiara, unmoving. Only after the gunman led them both around the stalls did she realize the bathroom had been built with another door inside. Once through it, she discovered the ladies room connected directly with the men's room. At the other exit, which let out into a different hallway, the man unlocked the door and she saw that he had put up an Out of Service sign on the door. He tucked his gun away, and took Kiara's arm in a firm grip. Determining that she would do whatever it took to get Ayumi to safety, she was about to stomp the guy's foot when she felt a prick in her arm. She yelped, looked down, and her world spun into darkness. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Six Kiara woke with a thick tongue and her head still spinning. She shoved herself to a sitting position on the side of a creaky cot. Across from her, sitting on a duplicate cot, sat Ayumi with tears on her pale cheeks. Kiara hurried across the narrow gap and gathered the girl in her arms. “Don't cry, baby. We'll get out of here. I promise." Ayumi wiggled in her arms to get away. “Kiara, I-I...” She noticed Ayumi had forgotten to use Ms . "What is it, sweetie?” She held Ayumi back from her to look into the frightened dark eyes. Tremors in the small body made Kiara want to cry herself. Ayumi's mouth opened and closed twice before her words would come. “I had an accident. I was so afraid that you were ... that you were..." Kiara glanced down to see Ayumi's dress wet. She pulled her close again. “Oh no, those jackasses.” She gasped and bit her lip. “I'm sorry." Ayumi clung to her, sniffed and wiped her nose. “I'm just glad you're okay.” Her humor seemed to return quickly. “Don't be scared, Kiara. Jiro-san will rescue us, and when he does, those men are dead." Her stomach dropped. “Men? There's more than one?" She nodded. “Yes, three from what I could see. I could only catch a few words because they speak too fast, and I haven't practiced German too much. Too boring. Now French, that's—" "Ayumi!” Kiara interrupted. “You speak German? They're speaking German?” Her head spun at the implications. Not that she could figure out what implications knowing this brought. Part of her over stimulated mind was impressed that a nine-year-old spoke at least three languages. Kiara looked at her watch. Eight p.m. She had been out for hours. Poor Ayumi had been sitting in her wet clothes that long. Seeming to realize that she had missed a couple meals, her stomach growled. She

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stood and crossed to the door on unsteady legs. A steel door with a deadbolt kept them inside. She banged on it. “Hello? Is anyone there?" Almost immediately, the door opened. She had to jump back to keep from being hit in the face. A burly man with thick black hair and too much facial hair entered. Ayumi had been right. There was more than one. “What do you want?” His rude gaze raked over her. She glanced down to make sure she was decent. "Ayumi needs a change of clothing, and we both need food. I don't know how long you intend to keep us here, but I'd think you would—" He advanced on her, grabbed her by the collar and breathed funky breath in her face. “And I'd think you would keep your mouth shut and not antagonize your captors." Kiara clicked her teeth together sending pain along her jaw. Fear took hold of her body until she thought she might have an accident of her own. The man lifted a hand to her face, and she cried out and ducked. He laughed and pushed her back. Without another word, he left, slamming the door. Soon the door opened again, and the first man entered followed by another. The third man, shorter and younger than the other two, grabbed Ayumi by the arm. Kiara tried to stop him from pulling her out of the room. "No!” Kiara screamed. “She stays with me. Don't hurt her.” The first man shoved her so hard, she fell on the cot Ayumi had occupied earlier. "Don't you worry, pretty woman, I will take care of you.” The door slammed shut but didn't lock. Ayumi's terrified screams cut into her heart. The man advanced on Kiara with his hand on the button of his pants. “You're expendable. I've always wondered what it would be like to fuck a black woman. Now's my chance. Although you're a little underweight.” He frowned. “Still, puss is puss, huh?" She tried to kick him in the nuts, but he caught her ankles and pushed them apart on the bed. He knelt down on her shin and she screamed in pain. “Stop, you're hurting me." "Be nice, damn it,” he yelled. “Just once, and I'll let you go. How's that? I don't like my lovers fighting me.” Could have fooled me. She fought harder, but he was too strong. He tore her blouse open and rubbed her breast through her bra. She bit his neck when he laid flat against her. He drew back and raised his hand to slap her, but stopped. His hesitation meant his injury as far as she was concerned. She kneed him in the nuts as hard as she could. He crumbled into a ball, holding his crotch. Kiara shoved him off her and launched herself toward the door. She wrenched it open and ran out to find herself in a wide open space like a warehouse. Searching the area for other rooms or a hall, she stopped. The man from the room behind her caught up, banging into her from behind. They dropped to the floor together. In a rage, he tore at her blouse until it was shreds. He ripped her bra from her body, and in a sort of detached way, she felt the cold cement floor against her naked breasts. She cried, pleading for him to stop, but he moved on to her pants. His strength seemed to know no bounds as he fought to get her pants undone without turning her over to face him.

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"No.” Her voice came out small and hoarse. He reached inside her loosened pants and squeezed her ass, then rubbed his hard-on against her. She whimpered. Shots rang out. Shouts she didn't recognize sounded all over the place. The man at her back sat up, and then another shot and his body jerked. He fell down on top of her, his mouth against her cheek. Warm sticky blood trailed from his lips to her face. He was dead. Sniffling, Kiara tried to free herself from the heavy body on top of her, but she didn't have the strength to roll him off let alone lift him. Running feet echoed in the open space, and she heard Ayumi yell, “Jiro!" Kiara lay her head down to wait, praying he didn't hate her for letting his sister get caught and leave her there to die alone. The next instant, the man on top of her was pulled off, and hands lifted her. She tried to cover her breasts, but her arms wouldn't move. " Anata,” Jiro said gently, “let me help you.” He wrapped a jacket around her shoulders and closed it over her chest before picking her up into his arms. “Ayumi, stay at my side." Vaguely, Kiara felt Ayumi brush her back as she took hold of her brother's shirt to hold onto. Together they walked out of the warehouse to the parking lot outside. When Jiro placed her in his car and buckled her in, her head dipped, and she slipped into unconsciousness. **** Kiara woke in a room she didn't recognize. Panic set in with the thought that she had been recaptured. She cried out and tried to sit up, but Jiro was there to calm her. “Easy, anata . You're safe now." She tried not to cry at his caress along her cheek. “It's Kiara. Why do you keep calling me that?" He had the grace to look embarrassed. “It's an endearment among lovers. I shouldn't have used it." Taking hold of his hand, she looked into his eyes. “Jiro, I'm sorry. I let those men capture Ayumi. She ... she..." He moved so she could see his sister curled in a nearby chair, asleep. “She's safe as well. Don't worry. This was not your fault. I blame Eiji for not keeping a closer watch. He will pay for his failure. Your task is to rest and get better." Fear gripped her. “You're going to kill him, just like you killed those men." "Can you honestly tell me they didn't deserve to die?” The corners of his mouth turned down, and his eyebrows knit together. “One was foolish enough to put his hands on you. He deserved to be afraid and tormented for what he put you through. Instead, he is simply out of his misery." She gaped in shock at the man she had known to be so controlled and kind at all times. The hatred she saw now in his eyes terrified her. Had she had doubts all this time that he could kill, those doubts were gone. Jiro had pulled the trigger to end the life of the man who tried to rape her. Her breathing became short and rapid. Her head spun. She tried to put up a hand to push her hair from her face, but she realized that one arm lay in a cast, secure against her body in a sling. The struggle had resulted in a broken arm, and a drip of medicine, probably a pain killer, went into the other arm.

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Jiro stroked her hair from her face. “Don't be afraid of me, Kiara. I would never hurt you.” His warm breath heated her face, and the deep timbre of his voice helped her to calm down. He kissed her cheek. She thought about pulling away but didn't. Encouraged, he covered her mouth with his own. His head tilted to the side, his tongue slipped between her lips to curl with hers. She kissed him back, just this once. Her emotions swirled, her heart pounded. She was lost in his flavor, in his tenderness as he nuzzled her neck and slid a hand down under the covers to tease on erect nipple. She arched into his palm, aching for more. He moved back to her mouth and sucked at first her bottom lip and then the top before delving into her warm mouth again. Finally, he drew away just a little to watch her. “You are so beautiful. I ache for you. I'll give you whatever you want.” His hand on her breast slid lower. He lifted the hospital gown and rested his hand against her mound. "No, don't. Please." He stopped. “Tell me what you want, Kiara. Shall I kill him for you? I will." Her eyes grew wide. She knew what he meant. He offered to kill Odell. This wasn't reality; it couldn't be. She closed her eyes, trying to quiet her racing thoughts. She shook her head. “You can't do that. I hate him with every fiber of my being, and if he was run over by a steam roller, I would not shed a tear. But I can't ask you to kill him. I could never order someone's death." He sat up. She thought she saw pain in his eyes, but his serene expression was in place. “As you wish." She sniffed, dragged in a deep breath and blew it out. “Jiro, I can't do this. I-I can't live in this above the law type of existence you have. I cannot accept that you kill people for a living. At first, I ignored it, pretended it wasn't true. But after tonight, how can I? I am so thankful that you saved me and Ayumi. I will owe you for that forever, I suppose." "No, I was simply taking care of you. You don't owe me." She held up a hand to his lips. He fell silent. She wanted to stroke his mouth, to feel it on hers again, and beg him to explore her body as he had begun to earlier. But this was goodbye, and she had to say it quickly or she would break down in tears. "I want you to take Ayumi and go, please. I can't teach her anymore.” A lump rose in her throat. She blinked away the tears forming. “It's best that I don't see either of you again. Thank you for all you've done. When I get out of here, I will call with the number to another artist. She truly is as good as I am." "Kiara..." She turned her face into her pillow, refusing to look at him again. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw him straighten, give a stiff bow and turn to move around the bed. A murmur and rustle of clothing told her he had lifted Ayumi. The sound of the door opening and closing sent her into body-racking sobs. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Seven

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Kiara's only consolation in arriving home from the hospital was that she was too bruised and broken for Odell to bother with hurting her. He grumbled about thinking she had run off again and about her not cooking him his dinner, but she ignored him completely and went to bed. The future prospect of her life had brightened all of a moment with Jiro and Ayumi in it. Now the darkness descended yet again. But, like always, she would pick herself up and keep going. Six weeks after the incident with the kidnappers, she approached Odell about their financial situation. “Odell, I don't have my best paying student anymore, and it's getting to be too much work to go around trying to scare up some money from odd jobs. The store where I get my art supplies has an opening I want to apply for. If not there, then somewhere else. We need the money." He turned away slowly and then zipped around to squeeze her neck in a cruel grip. “You're trying to say I need to get a job, bitch?" She fought to breathe. “No, Odell. I'm not. I just wanted to tell you I have to work. I-I can't hold a job when you beat me!" His eyes narrowed in disgust. “Now you're blaming me for your problem holding down a job!" Tears spilled down her cheeks. As if it came from someone else, she heard her awkward gasps echoing in the small room. “Please..." "Shut up!” he growled. He shoved her away from him. “I'm tired of you, Kiara. I'm tired of all your shit, your complaints. All I want is a decent home where we don't have the lights or the phone turned off every fucking minute." "Then get a job yourself!” She could have fainted at her boldness. Mouthing off to Odell got her one thing and one thing only—a busted lip and a swollen eye. “I'm sorry. I didn't mean that.” She reached a hand out to stroke his chest. “Come on, baby, I just want to do my part to keep things flowing in our house. You can understand that, can't you?" His gaze dropped to her breasts, and he frowned. “I stopped wanting you a long time ago, Kiara.” She knew this mood, one set to hurt her feelings with every word he uttered. He leaned in close to her lips, as if that tempted her. It didn't. She only wished the lips less than an inch from hers were Jiro's and not Odell's. “You know why I keep you around? To pay the bills and suck me off. That's it. In fact, why don't you get on your knees and do it right now. You do that without complaint, and I'll let you get that job. But you'll bring me every check—the whole check." He waited for her decision. For a full minute she stood staring at him, stumped at how a person could be so completely selfish. She knew from experience when she had to give him her money, it meant bills would continue to go unpaid. He would blow every penny, leaving her nothing and then blame her for hassle from bill collectors. His eyebrow went up expectantly. She dropped to her knees, and sniffling, she unbuttoned his pants. The Rocky and Bullwinkle boxers had been a gift from her. He found no problem in wearing them, except on certain nights when he went out in bikini briefs. She was not stupid. She knew what that meant. Pulling down the material, she looked up at him, a plea in her eyes. His expression remained unyielding, his lips compressed. “Do it now."

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She took him in her mouth, closed her eyes and battled nausea. He threw his head back, moaning. She dreamed of another place, another time. Even as he released in her mouth, forcing her to swallow, she knew tonight would be another attempt at escape. The last twenty dollars in her purse would go to alcohol. When he was content and unconscious, she would slip away. Kiara eased out of the bed, wincing when an empty beer bottle clattered to the floor. Odell's snoring didn't pause. She dressed quickly and stuffed a bag with a few changes of clothing before creeping to the front door. Without regret, she opened the door and left. After walking the highway for hours, she caught a ride with a woman heading south. Kiara figured maybe if she went as far south as possible, just maybe Odell wouldn't find her. For a man without a job, he had plenty of friends—friends who seemed to know how to track down anyone. "This time will be different,” she insisted to no one in particular. At a diner in the middle of nowhere, in a small town she had never been to, she started a new life. She glanced at the help wanted sign in the window and jerked open the door. A bell jingled, announcing her arrival. “Be right with you,” a woman in a too tight waitress uniform called as she carried a pot of coffee to two men in the corner. Kiara shook her head. Just like in a TV show. Weird . Clutching her bag close to her side, Kiara waited with a hip pressed to the back of a booth. She examined the walls—boring pictures, cheap and unattractive. She considered the poor quality of the furnishings. The likelihood of the owner springing for her to paint murals was slim. Yet, an idea was forming in her mind of a sixties motif with records and hoop skirts, a jukebox and motorcycles, all painted on the dull white walls. The waitress finally finished with her customer and sauntered over. “Haven't seen you around here before. Passing through?" Kiara nodded. “Yes. Well, I was. I need a job." "Ever waitress before?" She shook her head. “No, but I learn fast. If you give me a chance, I promise I'll give it my all, and I'll work any shift you need, overtime too.” She hadn't meant to sound so desperate. The woman studied her. Kiara dipped her head so that her hair fell forward on her face. Irritation registered in the woman's expression. “You running away?" "I—" "References?" She sighed. “No, I have no references.” She turned to go. “Thanks for your time." "Wait.” She pulled at Kiara's arm, and she flinched. She dreamed of the day that wouldn't happen. Straightening her back and lifting her chin, she paused. “I had a girl who just quit. Hell, I would quit if I could. Okay, you're hired on a trial basis. But the moment you have a man coming around here causing trouble, you're gone. I've had enough drama in my own life to last a lifetime. I've been down that road of abuse, and I don't want to relive it through you. Got it?"

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Kiara hid a frown. One would think if the woman had been abused by the man in her life, she would have more compassion for someone else in that situation. She guessed not. Everyone responded to life's issues differently. "Yes,” she affirmed. “I got it." **** Six months. Six glorious months, she was free, working at the diner and pocketing her money. No one stole from her. The most trouble she had had to deal with was prejudiced white men and women who came into the diner occasionally. Not the locals, but those passing through. She ignored their snide remarks and kept on going. Francine, the head waitress that had hired her, patted her shoulder. “Don't let them get to you, Kiara. The women are just jealous you're so beautiful, and the men want to get with you." Kiara laughed, her heart light, or as close to light as it could be. She had come to the conclusion over the last few months that she had grown to love Jiro and Ayumi. Her heart ached for Jiro nightly, but the course she had chosen was the best she could make. “Me beautiful?” She grinned. “Yeah, right." Francine spun her around. “Look at you. You've put on weight. When you came in here, you were skin and bones. I think you've picked up a good twenty pounds or so. Got yourself a butt now." One of the local men—sixty-five if she had to guess—whistled. “Yeah, nice butt too." Francine rolled her eyes. “More men than that old fart have noticed.” She indicated the black man at the end of the counter. Kiara had caught Junior's eyes on her more than once. She knew he liked her, but she was not interested. He looked like a good guy, but so had Odell in the beginning. "Sorry, I don't think so,” she told Francine. "Come on, girl, you're young and fresh. You need a man.” She winked. “'Sides, I've known Junior since he was five years old when his father came through here and dropped him with his grandmother. Haven't seen the man since. Give Junior a chance." Kiara dropped the conversation as her shift was over. Convincing Francine she didn't care if the woman had known him fifty years was impossible. She scooted around the counter and gathered her purse and a sweater. “Night everyone." Francine grumbled, but said no more. She waved Kiara off. The night was cool. Kiara slipped on her sweater and walked a little faster. Soon fall would turn to winter, her least favorite season. She had four blocks to go to get to her three room duplex. The place wasn't much, but it was hers. She always got a thrill heading home, no matter how exhausted she was. "Kiara?” Someone called from behind her. She turned and saw Junior following shyly. She sighed. “Hi, Junior." He caught up. “Can I walk you the rest of the way home?" Resisting the grumble rising in her throat, she nodded. Junior wasn't handsome, but he wasn't ugly either.

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He had an ordinary face, plain with dark brown skin and little acne scars on both cheeks. About her height, he had a thin frame. Even after gaining the twenty or so pounds Francine said she had, Kiara was pretty sure, she was heavier than Junior. "Uh, I was thinking that you might like to go to dinner with me sometime,” he offered. “We could go over to that new restaurant a mile down the road and see a movie too. Or if you don't like movies, we could go dancing at a club I know of." She shivered when a breeze blew right through her clothing. Glancing around, she felt someone watched them. But that feeling came often, so she didn't give it much thought. The narrow lane at the side of the road didn't hide much, and past the railing was just brush and weeds. Another few yards would be a small dirt road that led to her home. "I'm sorry, Junior. I'm just not interested in seeing anyone right now,” she explained. “I came out of a bad relationship before I got here, and I just need some serious recovery time. You can understand that, right?" His expression fell. “Yes, I guess I can. Awhile back, I dated this girl with some serious issues. The trials she put me through would shock you." She grinned. “Not." They walked on together, chitchatting about this and that. Kiara thought Junior was a good guy. Maybe they could be friends. That wouldn't be so bad, as she could use someone to talk to, someone who understood what she had gone through. From what he began to tell her of his ex-girlfriend, she had been an abuser as well. At the turn in to her street, Kiara paused. Someone had darted away from her door. Her heart pounded, and she was glad she wasn't alone, although she didn't think Junior could be of much help. She grabbed his arm. “Junior, I think someone's down there.” The street was rather dark, the street lights being too few and far between. Her companion stopped. They stood watching her door, unmoving until her neighbor stepped into view, lighting a cigarette. She heard Junior let out the breath he was holding along with her. She laughed. “We're real brave, aren't we?" He puffed out a scrawny chest, flared his nostrils and made a funny face. “Don't worry, I'll protect you." Snorting in laughter, she covered her mouth. Soon they drew up to her door. Her neighbor waved and disappeared into his house in the next duplex. Her adjoined neighbor she knew had flown to California to visit her son. With the chill tonight, Kiara wished she had gone too. "Well, this is me, Junior. Thanks for walking me home.” She squeezed his arm. “And listen, we can be friends if you like." "Yeah. Yeah, I'd like that.” He grinned. “And a guy can hope for more later." "Goodnight.” She realized there would be no friendship. If a man was so busy wondering when the friendship would become more, he wouldn't be a friend. She shut the door gently on him since he seemed disinclined to walk away. Bolting the door with one hand, she hung up her keys on the hook she had drilled into the wall as soon

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as she moved in. Without hitting the light switch, she found the place where she had painted a country scene and gently stroked the fawn there on her way to the bedroom. Within twenty minutes, she was dressed for bed and had picked out a book to read until she fell asleep. A sudden banging on the door sent her over the edge of the bed to the floor. Her heart slammed against her chest. She grabbed the baseball bat beside the closet and stood still listening to the hammering. "Kiara,” came a muffled cry. She gasped. Junior? He sounded terrified. She hurried into the living room and flipped on the light. When she unbolted the door, it banged hard against the wall and Junior's body was thrown inside. Having fallen to the floor, Kiara looked up to find Odell in the doorway. Vomit rose in her throat. "No, no, no,” she cried out. Junior lay in a heap, unconscious at her feet. Both his eyes were swollen shut, and blood covered the front of his shirt. He was so still, she feared he was dead. Odell stepped into the room and slammed the door. “Yes, yes, yes. Bitch! Did you think you could get away from me, Kiara?” He shook his finger in her face, taunting her. “It took me some time and money, but I finally found you. Actually, I had to work like a dog to gather enough to pay the private investigator." So he didn't have friends who knew people like he had claimed all the other times he found her. He paced across the room, looking over the space. “It was harder this time too because every time I turned around, the guy I hired would just change his mind and not help me. You're going to pay for that frustration.” He patted the front of his pants. “Over and over again, you'll pay. And then I'll beat your face in until you're dead. How do you like that, Kiara?" She dropped her gaze to the floor and then to where the bat had flown when Odell burst in. She gauged whether she could reach it before he got to her. She had to try. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Eight "J-Jiro?" "Kiara, anata .” His voice sent shivers through her body. Not until she heard it, did she realize just how much she missed him. Her hands shook as she tried to maintain a hold on the phone. She sniffed and swallowed before speaking again. “Jiro, I need your help. Please." The line was silent. "Are you there?” Tears filled her eyes thinking he didn't want anything to do with her after she had dropped him and his sister.

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"I'm here.” He spoke softly. “What's wrong?" How could she explain what she had done, what had happened? She glanced down at the bodies on the floor and backed away until she hit the wall between her bedroom and the bathroom. “Jiro, I think they're dead. Both of them.” Blood dripped in her eye from her forehead, and she brushed it away. The reality of her actions hit her hard, and she dropped the phone on the floor before retching uncontrollably. She stumbled into the bathroom and slid down to the cold tiled floor. Resting her head on the side of the tub, she waited for her spinning head to clear. Sobs wracked her body until she shook from head to toe, curling against the confusion and pain. "Ms. Jackson?" She jumped at the unfamiliar voice, looking blindly around the bathroom for the bat that couldn't be there when she had left it covered in blood in the living room. A man stepped into the open doorway, averting his eyes. “Ms. Jackson, I work for Jiro Fuschida. I'm here to clean things up. He'll be here in a couple hours. If you would stay in here or the bedroom until I'm finished, that would be best." She stared. “W-What? Clean up?” Impossibly, she was thinking of a maid. This muscle bound man was nobody's maid. “I don't understand." He hesitated. “Mr. Fuschida had me working here in this state for a while." "Let me guess,” she interrupted. “For six months?" He didn't confirm it. “Like I said, I will do the clean up. You'll be happy to know that one of the men is still alive." She pressed a hand to her mouth, feeling like she would vomit again. Her stomach had to be empty by now. Jiro had had someone watching her. Why couldn't he come to the house earlier, before Odell had slammed his fist into the side of her head? And before she had cracked the bat across his. Suddenly, she realized what the man had said. Only one of the men remained alive. Clawing her way to her feet, she braced herself for the news of just which man was still breathing. She was either a murderer or the cause of an innocent man being killed, someone whose only crime had been to be attracted to her. If Odell was alive, it might mean she was not free of him, probably never would be. The living room was a disaster area. The space, only big enough for a love seat, now held that piece of furniture upside down. A flashback surged through her mind, of Odell shoving her over it to land flat on her back with him squeezing her by the neck. She shoved the thought aside. Blood spattered the wall, and a bucket sat beneath it, but there was no sign of either Odell or Junior. She noticed the side door stood open, and beyond it a car was parked a few inches away. That area was not a driveway, and some ridiculous thought hit her that her neighbor's wife would have a fit tomorrow morning because of her smashed flowerbed. But where would she be? In jail? The Japanese man who worked for Jiro stepped inside carrying trash bags. “Ms. Jackson,” he began.

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She rubbed her hands along her thighs, only now realizing she was still in her stained nightgown. “I just wanted to know which man is alive, and which is d-de..." He dug around in his shirt pocket and pulled out a tiny notebook. She had the feeling he didn't really have to look at his notes. He knew just what had been going on in her life. The feeling that nothing was private was terrifying. “Odell Boyd, alive." Kiara's knees crumbled. She hit the floor hard, her face scraping the carpet. Probably with the same lack of emotion he announced everything else, the man moved over top her, grasped her around the waist and carried her against his hip into the bedroom. He deposited her on the bed. At the door, with his hand on the knob, he said, “Please stay here until Fuschida-san arrives." She had no choice. She couldn't find the energy to roll over, let alone get up. **** Jiro arrived with efficiency and authority. He had a woman with him, making Kiara wonder if he had found a girlfriend who would stick awhile. But he offered no introduction except to tell Kiara the woman's name. Five minutes after she heard it, she couldn't recall what he had said it was. "Kiara.” He touched her cheek when she had nodded off after he began to talk to her. “Wake up for a moment. We have to settle some things, and then I will let you rest. I promise." She stared up at him, wondering what he thought of how she looked. Night after night, she dreamed of seeing him again, seeing desire in his eyes when he saw her. His expression was impassive. "After you get cleaned up and dressed, we'll leave here and go to a hotel. You'll sleep as long as you want. When you wake up, I'll arrange for you to get something to eat. Then you'll have a few decisions to make. Is that clear?” He had said it all gently and with understanding in his tone, but it still seemed like a command. Her mind wasn't working properly. He nodded as if she had agreed, stood and crossed to her bedroom door. He and the woman spoke in Japanese before he left her there, closing the door behind him. Kiara blinked at the woman. She offered a shy smile and crossed the room to pull Kiara's nightgown over her head. "What are you doing?” Kiara mumbled. The woman didn't answer. She tossed the nightgown away and twisted to grab a washcloth in a basin of warm sudsy water, Kiara hadn't noticed before. Very methodical, she washed Kiara and then helped her into clean clothes. After she had helped her brush her teeth, the woman picked up her supplies and left the room. A moment later, Jiro came back in to the room. He smiled and stroked her hair. “Ready to go?" "As ready as I will ever be. She swallowed. “Jiro, what are you going to do with Junior? Did you call the police? This has to be reported." "Leave everything up to me. Your task is to rest and to recover." ****

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Kiara figured she wouldn't sleep a wink, but after she had drank down the warm milk Jiro had given her as if she were a child, she had dropped off to sleep. Now, in the early morning sunshine, she wouldn't be surprised to learn that he had drugged it to knock her out. She had just finished dressing, when a knock sounded at her hotel room door. Upon opening it, she found Jiro standing in the hall with a waiter and a covered cart beside him. Gesturing for them to enter, she turned away. When the waiter had finished setting up breakfast, Jiro pulled out a chair at the table in the corner for her to sit down. “Have something to eat. I'm told you were ill before I arrived. You must be starving." She hesitated. Here was a man completely different from Odell. She imagined he would not dream of having a woman take care of him, pay his bills. Jiro would consider himself the most dishonorable of men not to see to the needs of the women in his life. Instead of sitting down, she stood where she was, lost in thought. “Before I got involved with Odell, I was independent. I knew early on that my cousin resented having to take care of me, so the first chance I got to get away and stand on my own two feet, I took it. Money my parents left me went to my getting my Bachelors degree in fine arts. I did okay with that for a while." Tears filled her eyes, and she tried her best to blink them away only to have them flood her lids and spill down her cheeks. “First I had to work like a dog for nothing because Odell took away everything, including my dignity. And now you want me to depend on you. Admit it!" He strode over to her, took her hand and guided her to the table. “What I want you to do is eat something, even if it's only a small bit of egg.” He poured out a half glass of orange juice and sat it in front of her. “I want to you drink this. It's delicious, fresh-squeezed without pulp.” He smiled. Only the rich. Glancing pointedly at her plate, he dipped his head forward. “And then we will talk." She would never win. There was no use trying to fight against him. Resolute, she filled her plate. Jiro had been right of course. Not only was the juice delicious, so was everything else she sampled. And before she knew it, her belly was full. She had been more hungry than she realized. When she finally placed her fork beside her plate and wiped her mouth with her napkin, Jiro nodded in satisfaction. "I want you to know, Kiara, that whatever decision you make today, I will honor your wishes.” He compressed his lips a minute before speaking again. She got the impression the one decision she might make that he didn't like, was a hard one for him to swallow. “I will do whatever you ask. However, I want you to be sure that you will have no regrets." She started. “Regrets? So you expect me to ask you to kill Odell, since he didn't die from me hitting him over the head?" "That is merely one possibility." "And the others?" "You could go back to your present life, working in that diner where you were.” She gasped, but he continued. “As all the other failed attempts, you could try to start somewhere new, expecting that he

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won't find you. And yet he does." A shiver ran through her, and her tears threatened to start up again. She waited silently, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. She wouldn't have know what to say at that point anyway. Better to just sit and listen to what he had to offer. Asking him to kill Odell was most certainly off the table. Wasn't it? "Another option might be...” He cleared his throat. “Another might be if you were to become my mistress. I would take care of you. You would live on my property and be guarded by my men. This would entail a complete removal from the lifestyle that Odell is used to finding you in. We move in vastly different circles. In essence, you would be safe from him forever." His mistress!In truth, she couldn't have expected more than that. They hadn't known each other long, and the only sure thing between them was that they were sexually attracted to one another. She let her gaze roam over his taut muscles, clearly defined after he had removed his jacket. A woman could lose herself in a man as strong—as magnetic—as Jiro. That's what she was so terrified of. Still, unreasonably, she felt insulted at the suggestion, like she wasn't worth anything more than that position in his life. Jiro seemed to read her mind. “It's not that I don't care enough for you to make you more than my lover, but it's wise for us both to take it slower than that. Under normal circumstances, we would date, but you need my protection. I have an estate, several in fact, where you can live. Ayumi lives there also and a few others in my family's employ." "What would your family think about it?" "It's not uncommon to have mistresses, although most of the time, they live somewhere else or in one of the smaller houses, not in the main house.” His lips pressed into a straight line, determination entering his expression. “You will be—are—different." "Says you.” She sighed. These people were out of her league, even Ayumi. Their money allowed them to live a life she could not even dream of. His description of his estate made her think of the show on TV she used to watch when it first debuted called Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous. And would his grandfather also be there, a man she imagined was steeped in traditions. What kind of slap in the face would Jiro be giving the old man bringing home a black woman to live in his house? Yet, this was her only option. She could not give an order to kill Odell even if she did wish he was dead. That would make her a killer. She gasped, remembering Jiro's profession. Her stomach churned, and the food she had just downed felt like it was coming back up. I'm in negotiations to give away my body to a cold-blooded killer. Even as she thought it, she knew she would do it. She would give herself to Jiro. Just the thought excited her, made her wish she was lying with him right now, in bed. She parted her lips in a soft gasp, and a thrill hit her seeing that Jiro noticed. He was affected also. Maybe he was praying she would decide on being his mistress. How could she live with this? This decision too meant possible regrets, turning her head when she knew he was off on an assignment to murder someone. And opening her arms and her bed to him when he returned. It was all too much, too unreal. "All roads lead to...” She didn't finish the sentence. There was no point. “Okay, I've made my decision,” she told him quietly. “I will be your lover."

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[Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Nine They arrived late, too late to see Ayumi awake. No more than the housekeeper greeted them, who seemed a little gruff. If Kiara's eyes widened any more at the decor, they would pop. For all their money, and even living in America for so long, the house was decorated in traditional Japanese styles, simplistic yet tasteful. She marveled at the rice paper lamps and Shoji screens. Paintings and tapestries on the walls showed the Zen brushstroke to which she would have drifted over to if Jiro hadn't caught her, and turned her back toward the hall leading to her room. "Tomorrow,” he told her. “I promise, I will take you on the grand tour. “Tonight, we get to know one another." She shivered, knowing what he alluded to. The hour being late, she hadn't expected to jump right into bed with him the second they hit the door, but just as he must feel, she couldn't wait to get her hands on his body. Ever since she had agreed to this arrangement, she had had visions of Jiro naked, wondering if his body was as hot as she thought it was. Not that she wasn't nervous. She was terrified. For three years, she had been told she was unattractive, too skinny and her boobs weren't enough to get a man up. The thought of having come all this way only to find Jiro wasn't attracted to her was a real fear. He led her to her bedroom and stepped in behind her. “This is your room. Mine is down the hall and around the corner." She blinked. “You're saying we have separate rooms, not even near each other?” She had glimpsed the end of the hall as they approached her bedroom. It was a long way off. She could only imagine how long the second hall was. "You don't always want me in your bed. Hmm? During your woman's time?" Thinking about it, she realized what he meant. Her period. His ways were different. Surely, a husband and wife didn't have separate rooms. Would she and Jiro, if they were married? She decided not to ask. When she said nothing, he pulled her close and lifted her chin. “I have wanted to kiss you for a long time. Seems like forever.” His mouth touched hers in the gentlest of kisses. She melted against his body, savoring his hard strength. Soon, his tongue pushed between her lips. He slid a hand down to her rear and squeezed. Lifting her high and tight against him made her rise to her tiptoes. With his mouth on hers, he pushed her head back to deepen the kiss. He devoured her mouth, moaning hungrily and squeezing her so much, she became afraid. She struggled in his arms, shoving at his chest. Finally breaking the kiss, she turned her head. “Please stop. Let me go." He put her down and stepped back, but he didn't remove his hands from her arms. “I didn't mean to make you afraid. I never want you to think I would hurt you. But..."

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Her gaze flew to his. “But?" He brushed her lips with his thumb and then her cheek. He moved away, clasping his hands behind his back as he stared out into the dark night past her window. “I need you to understand what being my lover means." We have sex. Isn't that it? Running his hands over his bare head, he sighed heavily. “We've come a long way, Kiara. My people. But being my mistress means you are here to please me. Entirely and in every way.” He turned to face her. She had the feeling he wasn't laying it out quite as much as he needed her to understand. Again, he brushed her cheek in a caress that made her shiver. She longed for him. His hand moved down to the collar of her blouse. “Take off your clothes." His words were gentle, but they were also a command. Like a bucket of cold water thrown over her head, she knew instantly what he had been trying to say. She belonged to him, and she ... or rather he ... could not allow her fears to get in the way of her pleasing him. With trembling hands, and wanting to cry, she removed her clothing. Soon she stood naked in front of him, awaiting his judgment on her body. Too afraid and too angry to look at him, she stared at the floor. His intake of breath didn't reveal whether he was shocked at how much he desired her or appalled at her ugliness. For a long while he said nothing, just stood there staring. She clamped her lips together and balled her fists at her sides. “Just say it!” she snapped. "Say what?" She grunted. “Say that you find me too skinny, and that my breasts are so small, they're almost nonexistent. Say my curves are too slight, and legs are too thin." "Hmm.” He muttered words in Japanese. She thought if she lasted here, even if it was as a servant or something, she would learn his language. He strolled around her body, paused at her backside, and then came around to face her. “Your skin alone intrigues me. The dark chocolate areola around your nipples, the creamy brown of the skin over your flat belly, even the black curls at your mound set off your extraordinary color." He flicked a thumb across her nipple and pinched the rigid peak until she moaned. She would have moved into his arms, but he held up a hand to make her stay. Resentment hit her, but she said nothing. "Perhaps,” he said before leaning in to taste one of her nipples and then the other, “you have missed the fact that Asians are normally small. Hmm? Our women are even shorter than you are, smaller bones sometimes. I have had many women, and all have matched your size as you are now." "Before I gained some weight." He nodded. “Yes." "What if I..."

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"You won't. As I have tried to make clear to you, Kiara, I will take care of you.” He cupped her cheek and stepped close so that her nipples brushed his shirt front. She trembled. “I will be sure that you are well-fed, and that you are never so unhappy that you become an unhealthy weight again. Do you trust me?" She stuttered over an answer. Did she trust him? In the last few years, she hadn't trusted anyone not to hurt her. As much as she was able, she depended on herself, providing whatever resources she needed, even if her abilities were limited. “You've made clear to me that I belong to you, that I'm little more than property, just because I agreed to be your mistress. I had no idea that in your eyes this wasn't just two people deciding to enjoy each other. I didn't say I was selling you my body in exchange for you owning me and taking care of me. I can get a job." He stepped back and tucked his hands behind his back again. The man had excessive amounts of self-control. She was beginning to feel uncomfortable with him standing there still fully dressed. He wanted her to see who had all the power. Her resentment increased. "Do you change your mind?” he asked. She crossed her arms over her breasts and squeezed her legs together. The move didn't help one bit. “I want you to see me as your equal. I want this to be about two people who decided to become lovers to please each other." "And if I refuse?" She gaped at him. “I..." The same gentle kindness was present in his eyes. He smiled encouragingly, making her doubt. But he was a killer. She had to remember that. This serene gentleman before her was what? An illusion? Or also a part of him? "You have to know how important it is to me to be sure. That I'm not going to break one of your unspoken rules some time in the future and suffer the consequences of it." "What consequences do you think I would use?" She looked away. “I don't know." He lifted her chin so that she had to look into his eyes. “Tell me." "You might beat me ... or ... you might make me leave. That second part is possible anyway. Ayumi says—” She covered her mouth. "What does she say?” He tapped her lips. “Tell me, please." "She said at family functions, the women flock around you. You nod to one and she comes to your room. The next time, it will be a different one. She said you don't have girlfriends long. Don't tell her I told you what she said. I didn't mean to say anything." He stepped up close and kissed her lips. Kiara tilted her head farther back and nuzzled into him. She couldn't help how much she desired him. For a few moments, he seemed to have forgotten the conversation as he explored her body with his mouth, nipping at her shoulder, kissing the valley between

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her breasts. One hand braced her against his body while the over slid over her butt. He eased a finger between her cheeks to massage her rear opening. Kiara gasped at the erotic sensation. He placed pressure there, and she found herself nearing an orgasm. She lost the strength to hold up her head. It fell back, and her groans of pleasure filled the room. Finally, he stopped raining hungry kisses along her throat to look down into her eyes. “Do you like what I'm doing, Kiara?" She shuddered. “Yes." "Good. That would be the most I would do to ‘punish’ you for breaking a rule. I will not beat you—ever. You are too sweet, too beautiful for that. At any time, you are free to leave me, although I hope you won't. We can be very good together. And true, I cannot predict the future, whether either of our desires for the other will last. We can only enjoy now." "But?" "But I am who I am. You can accept that, or not. It is up to you.” He waited patiently for her to comment while his gaze swept her body. She wondered if she could ever seduce him into doing something he didn't want to do. Probably not likely. "I will stay." He stepped back and extended a hand. She placed hers in his and together they walked to the bed. He lay her down and quickly began to undress himself. When the bed creaked under his weight, she shivered in anticipation. She thought he might kiss her, but he bent to her navel and stuck his tongue in. He slid a hand beneath her to lift her to his mouth. Nipping gently, he worked his way down to her apex. A groan escaped her when he didn't pause, but kept going. He spread her legs to tease and suck her swollen bud. "Mmm,” he muttered. He latched on to suck harder. Kiara's hips rose off the bed. She whimpered and squirmed under the amazing assault on her body. To think she had almost walked away from this. She was so wet, he easily stuck two fingers inside her to work them in and out. She gyrated her hips to his rhythm, wanting to beg him to do it faster and harder, but not able to utter a word beyond moans. He released her nubbin to lean back and watch her. His thumb replaced his mouth, and he worked it firmly, rubbing and teasing. A climax rose inside, the heat and pressure too much to stand. She was going to come. "Jiro!" "Come now,” he demanded, as if she did or didn't will it. He worked his fingers faster, shoving deeper. The muscles inside her moist tunnel contracted and pushed against his fingers. She caught hold of his wrist to shove him deeper, up to his knuckles. The repeated bump against her button took her higher. Then from nowhere, waves of passion rolled over her body. The pleasure exploded. Her juices flowed down around his hand as she rode him crying out uncontrollably. “Yes! Don't ever let it stop!"

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As if it never did intend to stop, her orgasm took over her body, making her shudder with aftershocks again and again. She went limp, just letting it take her while Jiro continued to pump. Finally, when she was calmer, he pulled out and began to lick his hand. After he had lapped up every drop, he buried his head between her legs to eat there. She spread wider to give him better access and held the back of his head. “What are you doing to me, Jiro?” she murmured. "Enjoying what's mine,” he told her with glittering eyes. Finished, he flipped her over and stroked her rear, kissing it between pats. “Has a man ever entered you back here, Kiara?" "Once or t-twice.” She bit her lip. Not once had she enjoyed it, although the thought that it could be good never left her. She longed for it to fulfill her fantasies. Jiro kissed her cheeks and pressed a moistened thumb between them. He rolled it over her hole. She gasped, pushed back toward him. Slowly—wonderfully—he penetrated her opening. "Oh.” She clutched the sheets, her climax building. He pulled out. “No, please, Jiro." "Not yet. Come here.” He didn't give her the chance to move. He lifted her bodily from the bed and guided her to a bare part of the wall. “Put your hands up against it." She did and felt his stiff shaft against her back. Using his fingers, he worked her hole. She poked out her butt, taking him deeper. When he felt her muscles were relaxed enough, he bent his knees and replaced his hand with his tool. Kiara cried out. "Jiro!" "It's okay. Take it slowly. Relax.” He worked his way in with an arm across her chest to hold her still. Kiara's hands shook on the wall, it hurt so good. She rested her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes, willing her body to take him, take all of him. He was thick and long. She thought she might faint as he eased a long ways in and a long ways out. She couldn't help but rise up to her tiptoes to accommodate him. Feeling his gaze on her face, she looked up at him and found his eyes so intense, so dark. His lips were parted slightly and his breathing was shallow. "D-Do you like it?” she rasped. He kissed her. “I can't begin to say how much.” He moved his mouth to her ear, warming her skin. “You're so tight, I'm ready to explode inside you. Mmm, Kiara,” he moaned. He plucked at her nipple, capturing it between his fingers, and he kissed her shoulder while their bodies moved in unison. His mouth moving to her throat, he lowered his hands to her hips. "Hold on,” he demanded. She braced herself, and he plunged hard into her, gripping her hips as he pounded. She screamed. Her legs gave out but he held her up. In and out his rod plunged. Her orgasm threatened. Tears spilled down her cheeks. Juices from her vagina flowed at the stimulation.

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Jiro wrapped one arm around her and slammed a hand against the wall. He roared almost like an animal, and she felt the warm gush inside her rear. Seconds later, she came too moaning and sagging in his strong hold. By the time the waves of passion eased, Kiara was spent. Jiro pulled out of her and lifted her in his arms. He carried her to the bathroom, and together they washed their bodies in the shower. Soon after he had tucked her into her bed, kissed her forehead and dressed while watching her blink against sleep. "You're leaving?” she asked. "I could come back later if you feel you want more.” He smiled. “I thought you were worn out." She was, but she had hopped for cuddling until they slept. She was afraid to ask for him. “Yes, I am." He smiled. “Fine, then I will see you in the morning.” And he was gone. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Ten "Ms. Kiara!” Ayumi boomed. The young girl threw herself into Kiara's arms. “I've missed you. Did you miss me? Is that why you came back?" Kiara laughed. “Of course. I missed you very much." Ayumi winked to the annoyance of the man who had been walking alongside her in the hall. “And you missed my brother, right?" Kiara held up a hand, forefinger and thumb together to measure a half inch of space between them. “A teensy bit." "Good.” Ayumi linked arms with her. “Come on, I'll show you where you can get breakfast. I've already eaten since it's after ten.” Kiara didn't miss the reproving look for her sleeping in. She couldn't help it. Her body had been so sore that morning, she didn't want to move. "Sorry, late night. I didn't realize you knew I was coming." Ayumi nodded. “Yes, I was awake when my brother got the call to come get you.” She lowered her voice. “But don't tell him I was listening outside of his office. He would be so mad at me." Kiara glanced back over her shoulder at the man following them. If his dislike were anymore apparent, she thought he might stick his tongue out at her. “Who's that?” she whispered to Ayumi. The girl rolled her eyes. “My instructor. I've gotten nothing done today because I was too busy wondering when you would wake up. Can we do art lessons again? I've been practicing. I know I have improved since the last time you saw my work." "Didn't Jiro get you a new teacher?"

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Ayumi grinned. “No, we both knew you would come back to us. We were willing to wait." Kiara didn't know how to take that. Were they so used to getting what they wanted, it never occurred to them that she might have simply moved on forever? She hadn't forgotten that Jiro had stationed a man to watch over her. He had known all along where she was. For a moment, she wondered if Jiro had told Odell where to find her in order to push her toward himself, but then she didn't think that was his style. He would know Odell would hurt her. She reminded herself to ask what his men had done with Junior and if he let Odell go. A servant opened the dining room door as they approached. Kiara expected to find tables of food just waiting for her, but there was nothing there except a place setting and a pot she figured was full of coffee or tea. "I think I'm too late.” She frowned, her stomach growling. She wondered where the kitchen was and if it was okay to go in and make herself some butter and toast, anything to tide her over until lunch time. Ayumi giggled. She turned to the man who had opened the door for them and spoke to him in Japanese. He bowed his head and said something back. “Ms. Kiara, just tell Goro what you want. I told him as soon as possible, he needs to get someone working in here who speaks English, so they can serve you better." Kiara smiled and sat down. “Thanks, sweetie. I'm glad, because I'm starving.” Ayumi threw her arms around Kiara's neck and squeezed. Someone cleared their throat. Kiara and Ayumi looked up to see an old man standing in the doorway. The look in his eyes wasn't hatred. It was indifference. In an instant, Kiara was reduced to nothing. His gaze, which had been passing over her rather than examining her, moved to Ayumi. He said something clipped, and she stood almost at attention, bowing her head slightly. " Hai, ojiisan,” she mumbled. “Grandfather, this is Kiara—" The instructor who had followed them into the room said something that made Ayumi turn beet red. Kiara wondered what was going on, but no one was speaking English. She thought for a people who valued custom, they should have at least shown common courtesy. She guessed it was their house. They could speak any way they wanted." Tears filled Ayumi's eyes, and she turned to Kiara. “Grandfather hasn't had his breakfast yet. You must leave the room until he is finished. Do not speak directly to him. He doesn't think there will be anything for you to say to him, but if ever you need to, you should find a servant who will speak for you." Kiara stared. Of all the houses Jiro said he owned, he had brought her to the one where his grandfather lived, a man who thought she was beneath him being his grandson's mistress. Fighting her own tears, and wanting nothing more than to tell the old prune off, she shoved back her chair to stand. With her head held high, she stomped to the door. Her stomach growled its protest, but she ignored it. Hearing a clink of dishes, she turned in time to see the servant cleaning up the place setting although she had not even touched it. She did cry then and ran in the general direction of her room. As she ran, tears blinding her, somewhere behind her she heard Ayumi yell, “Get out of my way. I'm going to find my brother. He should know Ms. Kiara is upset."

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Kiara barreled into her room and slammed the door behind her. She looked around for her suitcase, thinking this whole situation was a mistake. At least she had had one night with Jiro. That was something to keep her warm on cold nights, if not to fill her lonely heart. Her stomach growled again. She slapped at it. “Just shut up. Who knows when you'll get any food in you. Besides, we're used to it." The door opened, and Jiro stood in the doorjamb. Her heart, which had been beating fast since she had run down the hall a minute ago, kicked up another notch. He looked good enough to eat. A flash of their activities from the night before went through her mind. She wondered how often he liked to have sex and tamped down the thought. He crossed his arms. “Where are you going?" "I...” She frowned. “I don't know, but my self-esteem isn't so low that I will take the kind of treatment I just got. I'll find something. I always do." "I don't want you to leave." She could have growled at him like a wild animal, but didn't. “Of course you don't want me to. You want to continue to use my body for your pleasure. Convenient cootchie, ready and waiting." His eyebrows rose at her choice of words, and she turned away. He walked up behind her. “You enjoyed it as much as I did,” he whispered, squeezing her butt and reminding her of last night. A moan escaped her lips before she could catch herself. “Whether I did or didn't is beside the point. Are you honestly going to stand there and ask me to accept that your grandfather treated me like gum stuck to the bottom of his shoe? Like gum he was too good to scrape off?" He tugged the pants she had been folding and refolding from her fingers and turned her to face him. Tucking her body close to his, he pressed her head down on his shoulder. “I'm saying what you and I have is between us, not my grandfather. Just as I explained last night, or attempted to, we are what we are." Gently, he stroked her hair until she felt like crying. Instead she muffled her emotions, trying to focus on his words. "I cannot change my grandfather. I can only help you to adjust easier.” He bent to kiss her lips. She turned her head and moved out of his arms. "So you'll let him get away with treating me like that?” She stuffed the rest of her clothing into her suitcase and shut it. Before she could do any more, he took her hands. “Don't go, Kiara. I always want you to do just what you feel is best for you. I will not pressure you to make the decisions I want. But..." "But what?” She was still angry, but she longed for him to make some type of declaration about his feelings for her. Something told her hell would freeze over before he did that. She was after all just a mistress, never a real girlfriend or potential wife. She sank down to the bed on that thought. Never a potential wife .

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He squatted in front of her. “Stay." She looked into his eyes, so sexy, so tender. How could that be? She expected an apology if not from his grandfather, then from him. Yet she wouldn't get it. He would not apologize for who he was, who his family was. As he had said, the choice was hers to be his mistress, a choice that seemed limited from the start. She wanted to rail and fuss about how he expected her to respect his culture, but what about hers? She was an American woman, and everyone knew they were on equal standing with any man, from anywhere. Every woman around the world should feel the same about herself. That fact didn't change Jiro and his family. While she sat thinking it over, someone knocked on the door and Jiro called for them to enter. A servant rolled a cart into the room. Before he removed the covering, Kiara smelled bacon and sausage. Her stomach rumbled. The entire two shelves of space on the cart were covered with different breakfast foods, from eggs to pastries. She tried not to salivate. The servant bowed and left the room. Jiro kissed both of her hands and crossed to dress a plate with various foods. Kiara didn't move, but her eyes grew wide when he offered the plate to her. “I know you must be hungry." Tears started up again. She ducked her head, took the plate with a murmured “thanks” before tucking into the food. He sat down beside her watching but saying nothing. Kiara ignored him. She still didn't know what she would do. Now that she had a chance to think about it, where would she go? She had no money. All of a second she considered asking Jiro for enough money for her to move out of state, but even if he did, what would stop Odell from tracking her? She could change her name. Well ... if she had whatever contacts were needed to do that with no paper trail. I could ask Jiro to kill Odell. The thought shocked her, made her drop her fork with a clatter on her plate. Her hands shook. “Jiro, you could ... could...” The words refused to move past her tongue. As much as she wished Odell was dead, she couldn't ask another to make it happen. He seemed to know what she had been about to say and stroked her cheek. “Even had you been able to say what I think you were about to, I wouldn't." Her eyes widened. “Why not? You said you would do what I asked." "Because you haven't moved past regret. You would resent me for doing it and never forgive yourself for asking me to. If the time comes that you are strong enough to handle it, then I will." "How do I know you haven't already?” He took a long time to answer. Panic rose in her stomach. "I would rather not say." She gasped and jumped up from the bed. Terror filled her that he could want to kill her at some point in the future. She yanked her suitcase from the bed, but hadn't sealed it properly so everything fell in a heap on the floor. “I have to get out of here."

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"Kiara..." Dropping everything, she bolted for the door, and skittered out into the hall. A servant who had been walking along, darted aside as she careened past him. Ahead, Ayumi bounced from a room along the hallway. “Ms. Kiara, are you feeling better? You want to go for a walk on the grounds with me? I'll show you—" Kiara didn't stop. “I'm sorry, Ayumi,” she called out. Jiro's steps sounded in the hall behind her. “Kiara, wait. Let me explain." She kept going. The front door came into view. She picked up speed. Before she knew it the door was open and she launched herself though it, only to land in strong arms. The man whose eyes she looked up into was confused. Instead of speaking to her, he looked over her and spoke to Jiro coming up behind her. Kiara struggled in the man's hold, but his grip might as well be steel for all she could budge his fingers from her arm. “Am I your prisoner now, Jiro?” she demanded. He visibly changed from the familiar lover when they were alone, to the man all business in public. She found that she hated that look. He clasped his hands together behind his back, and uttered something to the man holding her. She was ushered inside and the door closed behind her. Kiara swallowed the humiliation she felt, standing rigid in the lobby. Servants came and went, casting curious glances her way. Jiro turned to walk toward what she found was his study, and the man brought her along with him. Soon the two of them were left alone, probably with the man who had forced her into the office, off to tell his buddies about it so they could laugh together about the silly black woman who thought she could get away from the Fuschida family. She felt like the biggest fool around. Jiro didn't care about her. She was a body he was interested in owning, for the time being. She just wanted to know what he intended to do with her once his desire cooled. Jiro positioned himself on the edge of his desk and crossed his arms. Kiara stood before him, waiting for his explanation. "You are not my prisoner,” he began. “You can leave here any time you want—" "I just tried." "In the proper way, with arrangements made for your mode of travel, where you will live and your clothes packed.” He dropped his arms. “But I want you to stay, Kiara. I can take care of you." "And what if I don't want to be taken care of?” She frowned. “I asked you before. What if I want to get a job? How about that?" He sighed, brushed a hand across his brow and glanced around the room as if he was looking for inspiration to deal with this difficult woman. “A woman under my protection cannot work. It would be an insult to myself and my family."

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"What!” She stared at him. “Plenty of Japanese women work. Your family is living in the dark ages! And you have servants here working, the housekeeper for one. Your cook is female." "I said a woman under my protection,” he snapped, becoming impatient with her. He took a few calming breaths, but his intense gaze never left hers. She fidgeted. She had never seen him angry, and was nervous. Even the time he rescued her from the kidnappers, she hadn't seen him angry. As soon as he took her in his arms, he had been tender. She closed her mind to the thought. "So you killed Odell?" "I beat him to within an inch of his life, but unfortunately, he is still alive.” He looked down at the knuckles of his right hand and rubbed them. Kiara took a step back. Jiro's gaze flew to hers. He closed the space between them in two strides, to pull her into his arms. He lifted her chin to kiss her lips. “Stay, Kiara. Don't leave me." As terrified as she was, she couldn't go. Maybe she had become like the women who ran back to the abuser. But Jiro hadn't hurt her in any way. Hopefully, that would remain true for the duration of their time together. “Okay, I will,” she whispered. “For now." [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Eleven "Kiara, do you like it here?” Ayumi asked her while they walked along the tree-lined paths of her family's property. She had given the girl permission to call her simply Kiara when they were in private, and Ayumi used it every chance she got. Kiara smiled. She had been in residence for three months, and while it wasn't the ideal situation, especially when she and Ayumi both were somewhat depressed when Jiro had to go out of town on business, it was the safest she had ever felt in her life. “This is like living on constant vacation,” she admitted. “As long as I keep out of sight of your grandfather." Ayumi rolled her eyes. “Yes, I'm really sorry about how he treated you when you first came. Sometimes, it makes me angry how our ways are. I'm not supposed to have too much exposure to the western way of doing things because Grandfather thinks it will corrupt me. But I've seen that women aren't treated out there,"—she gestured toward the gates leading off the property—"as they are here. We live in our own world, and it's not right." "You've apologized enough for the entire family.” Kiara laughed. “Jiro is good to me. He never raises his voice, never hurts me in any way. That is priceless." Her companion gave her sidelong look. Kiara knew that expression. Only ten, having had her birthday a couple weeks back, Ayumi was wise beyond her years. She knew without being told that Kiara had been abused, and that she still had a problem with Jiro's line of work. They walked on in silence, Kiara lifting her face to the warm sunlight. Birds chirped and leaves rustled at a slight breeze. Despite whatever reservations still lurked inside her, she couldn't help the anticipation she felt inside. Jiro would be back tonight from his latest trip, in time for some type of function. Ayumi always called them family get-togethers, but from what Kiara had gleaned, more than family would be present.

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Either way, Jiro would no doubt be in her bed again. She had missed him more than she wanted to. "Kiara?" "Hmm?" Ayumi hesitated. “I understand how you might feel suffocated by the rules the men in my family put on you." A warning went off in Kiara's head. “How so?" "Well...” She glanced around, then took Kiara's hand to pull her off the path. They picked their way through the trees to a small clearing with a bench in its center. Had Ayumi not brought her here, she would not have known it existed. The trees were so thick, that no one could see in until they pushed their way through to it. “I discovered this place after I found out my mother was killed." Kiara gasped. “You were only four years old." She nodded. “I know, and I didn't really understand what was going on. Jiro-san said she wouldn't be back, that she had gone to rest with our ancestors, to watch over me. I was so mad at him for saying that. Someone left the door open, and I ran and ran.” She stroked the bench seat like an old friend. “My face was all scratched, but I found this place. It's a safe hideout for me. Maybe my mom led me here. She comforted me, and I fell asleep. After a long time, Jiro-san found me and took me home. That night he promised he would always take care of me, no matter what. I know now that it was also when he decided to become an assassin." Kiara dropped onto the bench. Jiro and his grandfather thought they were shielding Ayumi from the dangers of the western world, but she knew so much already about death and killing. How could that be healthy? “I don't understand. I would think he would not do that type of work because it was risky.” She didn't want to outline how risky, like the fact that someone could retaliate and kill him or his family. She shivered at the thought. She had already seen firsthand the guards present at all times on the grounds. "It's because of what happened to my parents,” she explained. “My other brother, Jiro-san's twin, was supposed to protect them, to handle the threat against my family. He wouldn't do it, and Jiro-san was the second son. When Ichiro-san died, the responsibility fell on Jiro-san. He promised Grandfather that he would get the people responsible for my parents’ and my brother's deaths." "How do you know that?" She had the grace to blush. “I listen at doors sometimes.” A laugh escaped her, and she covered her mouth. "What?" Ayumi giggled for a few minutes before answering. “You know how all the decorations are Japanese style?" Kiara nodded. “Yes?" "We used to have the paper walls too, between rooms. Grandfather is stuck in the old ways. Well, it was because I kept hearing things I shouldn't that he let Jiro-san arrange for the real walls we have now.

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To keep my nose where it doesn't belong. That's what Grandfather said." Kiara laughed. All kids did the same, she didn't doubt, but her grandfather had done right by putting up walls that were harder for her to hear through. Then again, she had already heard enough and apparently, she was still learning more. "You said you sometimes feel suffocated by the rules,” Kiara reminded her. “What did you mean?" Ayumi ducked, bit her lip and jumped from her seat. Kiara resisted dissolving into laughter again. Something had the girl almost jumping out of her skin. Normally, she'd bounce off the walls knowing Jiro would be back soon. She twirled about the clearing edge, touching a fingertip to branches along the way. Finally, she stopped and faced Kiara. “I like a boy." "You like a boy?” Kiara searched her mind. Ayumi was never away from a family member or her bodyguard. She had a private instructor. When would she have ever come in contact with a boy her age? Kiara prayed the girl hadn't developed a crush on a servant, but she couldn't remember seeing any Ayumi's age. She had no thoughts of the family being better than the servants, but Ayumi's family did. Her grandfather would order someone's death. She shivered at the thought, not knowing really if he was that ‘trigger happy'. “What boy, Ayumi?" "Do you remember my birthday party?” She seemed about to chew her lip off. Kiara pulled it from between her teeth with a nod. “My cousin came, the one who lives in Los Angeles. Grandfather hates it, but they live freer than we do. He says they're almost Americanized, that the only way he can tell the difference is that they still have slanted eyes.” She chuckled. Kiara frowned. “Are you telling me you have a crush on your cousin?" "Ew, no!” She made a face like she would throw up, reminding Kiara that no matter how mature Ayumi behaved, she was still a young child. “Not my cousin, his friend. Remember, he brought his friend with him?" Kiara stiffened. “His blond haired, blue-eyed friend?" She nodded miserably. “I've been talking to him on the phone." "What! Ayumi, you realize you're only ten years old. You're too young to have a boyfriend.” Kiara tried not to lecture, or to let on that her fear was more for the fact that the boy was white than anything else. As busy as Ayumi was in personality, she was still an innocent. No doubt she had been drawn by the contrast in the boy's looks to hers. Part of what excites me about Jiro, I know that. Among other things. But the girl's grandfather, and her brother for that matter, would hit the roof. Jiro was not as hard-nosed as his grandfather, but he was still all Japanese. It was likely he would cut off the innocent friendship and hurt poor Ayumi in the process, damaging their great relationship. "Sweetie,” Kiara began. “Your brother would hit the roof if he heard that you had a crush on a wh ... uh ... that boy. What am I saying? He lives in Los Angeles, you said. Maybe occasional phone calls are okay."

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"He's going to be here tonight,” she blurted. "Ayumi..." She launched herself into Kiara's arms. “Can you tell Jiro-san to let me be friends with him, Kiara? We have the kiddie dance, and Luke already asked me to dance with him. And also, we can join up to be partners in the chess tournament later. Everybody's staying over, so I thought I could go horseback riding with him too." You're ten. This is not date weekend!Kiara took a deep breath and put Ayumi back into her seat beside her. “Sweetie, I don't know what influence you think I have over your brother, but believe me, I can't tell him to do anything. And as I said, you're ten. You can be friends, but..." Ayumi grunted and bounced impatiently. Kiara did one of Jiro's tricks by raising her eyebrow. The girl settled immediately. She felt guilty afterward for using the trick. Ayumi should feel she could be free with Kiara, and she wanted that for her. "Kiara, the fact that you live in our house tells me my brother thinks you're great." "Why is that?" She smiled. “Because when my adult cousins and uncles come, if they bring a woman who's ... you know ... they don't stay in our house. Grandfather won't allow it." This was news to Kiara. “Where do they stay?" "In the guest house.” She pointed over her shoulder, although nothing but trees was viewable. Kiara remembered seeing a house not quite as large as the main house, but close, on the grounds at the back. She had meant to ask Jiro who lived there, but forgot to. When he walked with her in the evenings, he never took her that way, and so far, she had managed to avoid horseback riding. The stables were in that direction also. Jiro's lands went on for many acres. She wondered how the guards could keep watch over it all. "Oh,” she muttered. “Well, that still doesn't prove that he will let you be friends with this boy. I will have to think about how to handle this and talk to him later. You, young lady, calm down. You're still very young and have a long road ahead of you. There's plenty of time later for liking boys." She was shocked to see the stubborn set to Ayumi's mouth and hoped she had handled the situation right. Teaching kids art didn't equate to her knowing how to raise them, or to handle situations like this. She worried that she should make sure to tell Jiro but at the same time, she didn't want to break Ayumi's trust. Jiro surely wouldn't let the girl get too close with her cousin's friend. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Twelve The house was filled to capacity with guests. Kiara had been wide-eyed most of the afternoon and into the evening at the variety of dresses and styles. She knew from what Ayumi had told her that while the

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guests could arrive in western clothing popular in America, at the formal evening, all would honor Ayumi's grandfather with more traditional clothing. She shuffled over to her full length mirror to take in her own outfit. Her verdict was official. The kimono did not suit her, and she was becoming increasingly annoyed that her thighs could not move farther apart in the restrictive costume. She only hoped the festivities didn't last all night. Maybe she could slip away early. For the millionth time, she wobbled over to the window to look out. Her room had a narrow view of the driveway, and she couldn't help watching for when Jiro arrived. He was late. Somewhere in the house, a gong sounded and music began playing. Kiara knew from Ayumi's birthday party that the music playing now was Minyo , Japanese folksongs. Her family would sing heartily for a few rounds, and then it would change to Shakuhachi , the flutelike instrument one of her uncles liked to play. Kiara preferred his playing. The music spoke to her soul. She left her room reluctantly and followed the voices toward a room decked everywhere in beautiful scented flowers. The fragrance almost made her head spin. Tables around the room were laden with dishes of maki rolls, miso soup and teriyaki chicken. Seeing the chicken, she was relieved. As yet, she hadn't developed a taste for sushi, no matter how many kinds the housekeeper and her staff had laid out. No one acknowledged her, but then not many acknowledged certain of the women either. She had a feeling she knew who they were. Mistresses or just someone to warm the rich business men's beds for the night. She was surprised to see that there were plenty of other races present, including black. Apparently Grandfather respected those he did business with, even if they weren't Japanese. Yet, all were dressed in the traditional garb. " Kanpai!” someone yelled. Teacups rose. Kiara followed suit. Something Japanese she didn't catch was said and all raised their cups to Grandfather. She spotted the old man near the head of the room, surrounded by other pompous old men who looked like they were just as firmly wedged into the past as he was. After too many toasts by men determined to impress Jiro's grandfather, the assembly finally began to drift to different parts of the house. Grandfather disappeared with his devotees, and the music started up again. Kiara glanced around trying to spot Ayumi, but saw that none of the children seemed to be present. She touched a female servant's arm to ask. “Do you know where Ayumi and the other kids are?" The woman barely acknowledged her. “The children are not allowed in this gathering. They have their own celebration in the back.” With that, she walked away. Kiara would have gone to search for Ayumi except someone linked his fingers with hers. She gasped and looked around to find an older man, foreign but not Japanese, grinning at her. He might not speak English, but she didn't need to speak his language to know a proposition when she heard one. She tugged at her hand, but the man held on, moving closer. His breath smelled stale, and she barely ducked away from a kiss while he wrapped an arm about her waist. "Please, I am with someone,” she told him.

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He giggled like an idiot. When his hand lowered to her ass, she lifted her arm to elbow him in the side. Someone calling out caught both their attention before she could make contact. Jiro stood with the sternest look she had ever seen on his face. His eyes were black slits, and his nostrils were flared. His lips had all but disappeared they were so tight. Her heart pounded in excitement and fear. She was glad to see him, and scared that he assumed she wanted this old creep to touch her. His eyebrows shot up. Someone whispered something to the man holding her too fast for her to catch, a person who hadn't said anything before Jiro showed up. The man's hands dropped to his sides. Jiro crooked a finger to her, indicating that she should come to him. Kiara wasn't about to shame him in front of everyone and refuse to go. She shuffled up to him and stared straight ahead at his chest. Odell used to get a special pleasure out of humiliating her in front of others. A few times, he had even hit her in front of his friends. She had cried while they laughed and called her stupid and ugly. These memories fresh in her mind, she stood still, waiting for the hammer to fall from Jiro. This situation had never arisen. There was no telling what his reaction would be. He brought his hands up to her waist, and she jumped. The music started. A woman's voice sang a modern love song, and Jiro pulled Kiara tight against his body. He kissed her neck. “You didn't invite him to touch you?" "No, never." "Good, because you're mine. I do not share my woman. Do you understand?" She tried to pull away, resenting his tone and his words, but he held on. When she wouldn't look at him, he forced her head up. “I said, do you understand?" "Yes.” Tears spilled down her cheeks. He flipped her around so that she faced the door and swatted her butt. “Go to your room, and wait for me. I'll be there shortly." As Kiara worked through the crowd to the door, she saw the knowing looks for those who would look her in the eyes. The others turned their noses up as she passed by them. She didn't realize how close Jiro was behind her until she drew alongside the man who had touched her. Jiro stepped around her, blocking her view of the man and said something to him. He gestured to a door leading to the gardens. The man preceded him out into the dark night. Kiara took a step in that direction, but the crowd closed the gap. From the look of it, she would have to make a scene to get through, so she turned and left by the door into the hall. Instead of heading right toward her bedroom, she turned left to the front door. When she stepped outside, the chilly fall air cut through her clothing. A guard eyed her briefly before tucking a cigarette between his lips and disappearing into the night. She ran on tiptoe around the house to the side where Jiro had gone with the man. Hearing no sounds except the call of an owl and the muffled music and laughter from inside, she searched the area. A path led back to the guest house and the stables. She followed it. Shouts reached her ears. As she drew nearer, someone cried out. She stopped, shaking from head to

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toe, and not from the cold. Around a bend, lights from the guest house came into view. In an upstairs window where someone had forgotten to draw the blinds, a pretty Asian woman stripped sensuously. She no doubt had an audience in the room where she was, and one lingering in the trees too unless Kiara missed her guess at what the stilled hulk was nearby. She moved past him. At a tree halfway between the guest house and the stables, Kiara came across Jiro. He stood in front of the man who had touched her with two guards at his side. The man was bent forward holding his stomach. She cried out and slapped a hand over her mouth. Jiro turned to look her way. She couldn't see his expression, but imagined the anger that must have registered there. She bolted, running as fast as her clothing allowed. Jiro caught her before she had taken half a dozen steps and swept her up into his arms. She fought against his strength, but it was pointless. "Put me down, Jiro,” she demanded. "Why? So you can leave me? No! You disobeyed me, Kiara.” His voice was so harsh, she didn't recognize it. “I told you to go to your room." "I'm not a child for you to boss around,” was her snappy comeback. "And you should know better than to make your pointless stance when I have a house full of guests!” He kicked open the front door just as one of her shoes fell off. A maid, who had appeared out of nowhere, picked it up and followed them down the hall. Several people milling around saw. She hid her face in his chest, humiliation spreading throughout her body. When they were in her room, the maid placed the shoe just inside and closed the door on her way out. Jiro dumped Kiara on the bed. She scrambled to a sitting position in time to see him undoing his belt. Fear tightened her chest. “What are you doing?" "Take off your clothes." Her eyes grew wide. “Jiro—" "Take them off now !" She struggled out of the layer upon layer of clothing and dropped them on the bed. In matching lacy panties and bra, she waited silently with her hands clenched in front of her. He soon stood bare from the waist up and pinned her in place with an angry glare. She looked down to see that the knuckles of his right hand were deep red. "Y-You hit that man,” she whispered. "He knew you belonged to me. Everyone here knows which woman is available and which is not. He disrespected me when he touched you. And you,"—he took hold of her chin to force her to look up at him—"you dishonored me when you disobeyed me. I told you very plainly from the start that I would care for you, but you must not break my rules. Did I not say that to you, Kiara?" She closed her eyes. “Now you'll hit me like you did him." He growled. She felt his fingers, cold from being outside, slipping over her skin. He unsnapped her bra and let it fall to the floor. Her panties followed.

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A tremor rushed through her body when he pulled her tight. Her nipples grazed his chest, sending ripples of pleasure over her despite her fear. Jiro kissed her earlobe. “You silly woman. You still don't get it,” he whispered in her ear. “I'm not going to beat you. I won't abuse your precious body.” He ran his hand down over her ass, squeezing gently. “But you will obey. Won't you?" He moved to kiss her lips and pushed his fingers between her ass cheeks to massage her hole. Kiara whimpered, melting into his arms. She let her head fall back while he feathered kisses along her neck. She wasn't sure when he had loosened his pants, but in another moment, he checked that she was wet enough and he lifted her onto his erection. His shaft eased all the way to the hilt. She cried out her pleasure. "Kiara,” he groaned. Deep inside then all the way out before thrusting harder, he took her. She didn't know how he kept his balance but he did standing at the side of the bed with her legs wrapped around him. "Kiara,” he said again. “Say it." She wanted to tell him no, to tell him he didn't own her, but how could she utter the words when she wasn't happy if he wasn't at home? When one touch sent her airborne, greedy for more. He tangled his hand in her hair and pulled her head back. “Kiara!" She cried out. Fresh tears started down her cheeks. “Yes." "Yes, you will obey me,” he coached. "Yes, I will obey you.” Her climax crashed down over her, as if he had been the one holding it back. She shook and whimpered, calling out his name until the intensity eased. Gently, he lifted her off his rod and placed her on the bed. He bent down to gather their clothes from the bed and floor before tossing them on a chair. Clicking off the lamp, he joined her on the bed. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Thirteen The next morning, Kiara searched the grounds for Ayumi, but found the girl nowhere. She questioned the servants and learned Ayumi had gone off on her horse with Luke. Luckily, Jiro had been called into a meeting with his grandfather, so he hadn't been looking for the girl. Kiara switched the dress she had chosen to wear that morning for a pair of comfortable slacks and tennis shoes. If it killed her, she would ride a horse and find Jiro's sister before he knew what was up. Arriving at the stables, Kiara glanced around. A stable hand walked up to her. “May I help you, miss?" She nodded. “Yes, I'd like to borrow a horse to ride, please. Also, can you tell me which way Ayumi went?"

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"Yes, yes.” He pointed and said something very quickly. "I'm sorry, could you run that by me one more time?" The man saddled a horse, guided it out onto the path in the direction she should go. To save her embarrassment, he placed a stool at the side of the horse and held the reins while she prayed her leg muscles were strong enough to slip a foot in the stirrup and hoist her body up and over the horse. He patted the kinky blond mane and spoke soothingly to the animal. Kiara's stomach dropped. She thought she might spew out the shrimp and rice she had consumed twenty minutes ago, but swallowed repeatedly to keep it down. Finally, she was on her way, bobbing and dipping from side to side and gripping the reins so hard, the horse complained. “Sorry.” She gasped as her stomach bubbled. Giving into dizziness when she rounded a turn passing out of sight of the stables, she rested her cheek on the horse's neck. "Just take me to Ayumi, girl." Two hours later, she sat on a rock waiting for someone to rescue her. She prayed Ayumi had returned to the house by another path, and that she herself would be missed. “More likely, if Jiro stays shut in with his grandfather, I'm screwed.” She wondered how the other mistresses dealt with the cold shoulder they were given. Maybe if they had been around a while, they had formed friendships. She vowed to find out which women had her lowered status in the Fuschida household and to make friends with them. She would at least have someone to talk to when Ayumi and Jiro were busy with their guests. The sky grew dark with thick grey clouds. Lightning sparked intermittently, and she was sure she heard a distant rumble. “Great." She shoved up to her feet and moved to untie her mare from the branch where she'd left her. A crack of thunder split the sky. The horse reared up in terror on its hind legs. Kiara jumped backward, smacked her ankle on the side of the rock and crumbled to the ground in pain. By the time she got her head to clear of confusion brought on by her injury, she looked up to see the horse galloping away. Panic choked her cry. Limping, she plodded along the way she had come earlier. Only after passing a fork in the road maybe a mile back did she remember she had veered along a different path to look for Ayumi. The day steadily darkening to night, she shuffled back to the fork in the road and stood trying to picture how she would have come to it the first time. She couldn't remember. She chose one and followed it. The rain came soon after. A check of her watch showed it to be going on eight-thirty. The sun was most firmly down and with the storm, the night sky was blacker. The moon had half hidden itself, so that it was hard for her to find her way. Tears flooded her eyes, mixing with the rain. She shivered with the drop in temperature and sodden clothing. At midnight, she heard the shouts, people in the trees and calling. She thought they were calling for her until she drew up closer. They called for Ayumi. Her heart sunk, and she cried harder. Reaching the grounds immediately surrounding the house, Kiara rested against a tree. She planned to change her clothes, find an umbrella and help look for the girl she loved like her little sister. Worry tugged at her as she stumbled toward the main house. "Don't worry,” someone was telling Grandfather, “we will find her. The woman, she guessed, was one of

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the business associates’ wives. Others’ conversation was not discernable. Kiara considered asking for an update from Ayumi's grandfather, but when his cold eyes swept over her, her tongue froze. He said something to the person beside him, and the man who had just moved to his side turned to face Kiara. "You!” the man spat. “Where is she?" Kiara's stared in shock. “I-I don't know. I went looking for her." "Liar!” Grandfather shouted. It was a testament to his fear over Ayumi's welfare that made him speak directly to her. He stiffened his back and turned away to say something to the man again. "She left a message for her brother where he would not find it right away." Kiara closed her eyes. The girl was too clever for her own good. The man continued. “The note says for Fuschida-chan to trust her just like you trust her. So I ask you once again. Where is she?" This is ridiculous. Ayumi is no lovesick teenager. If only they had given her some freedom. Maybe she just desperately needed to get away.Kiara's art lessons had continually taken a back seat whenever Jiro was not at home. No one valued the art but him, and Kiara had been nervous about starting trouble by telling him. Ayumi hadn't seemed to care as much either. Now Kiara realized it was because of her fascination with Luke. She kicked herself mentally for her stupidity. The storm outside raged on, rattling the windows. Kiara rushed away from the angry men to her private bathroom. She dry heaved over the toilet until the last of her energy had been spent. At that point, she rested her head on her arm above the rim. The bathroom door opened. She peeked up through slits to see Jiro. Her stomach roiled again. "You knew about this?” he asked softly. "No.” She focused on the trail of water she had left on the tiled floor and on the carpet in her room. "You knew about Ayumi's ... interest in the boy?" Oh no!“Yes." Without another word, Jiro left the bathroom and walked out of the bedroom, shutting the door behind him. He didn't slam it as she expected, but snapped it closed with barely a sound. Yet, it might as well have been a gunshot to Kiara. She dragged herself up from the floor, ran bath water as warm as she could stand it and stripped down. A half hour later, she was dressed in dry clothes, but sneezing uncontrollably. She sat on the side of her bed to wait. **** Sunlight warmed her face, and Kiara sat up in bed, realizing it was morning. She looked down to find someone had undressed her and put her under the covers. Pain shot through her skull, and her throat was scratchy. She could barely take in any air through one nostril. A cold. She moaned.

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Pushing her legs over the side of the bed to the floor, she glanced at the clock. Eleven-thirty. No one had come to tell her whether they had found Ayumi. On unsteady legs, she wobbled to the bathroom only to come to the realization that the person who had undressed her had removed her panties and bra as well. That had to be Jiro. At least if he was angry, he cared enough to put her to bed, unless of course he was avoiding having her death on his hands from pneumonia. She hoped the former was the case. Dressed and still not feeling whole, she left her room. The house was quiet. She strolled toward the dining room, hearing voices in that direction. At the slit in the door, she spotted her young student and sighed with relief. Ayumi had two spots of red on her cheeks, and she stared down at her plate, not eating her food. Kiara would have gone in except she heard Grandfather speak. She hesitated. A moment later and Jiro spoke to his grandfather. They were a family, she thought, feeling left out. And she wasn't allowed to join them. A tickle started in her throat. She slapped a hand over her mouth and hurried down the hall. She made it to the front door before a cough exploded from her throat, and a stream of sneezes soon followed. Weakness stole over her limbs. Her eyelids drooped, and disoriented, she began thinking of lying down on the floor. Someone stepped up behind her. “Miss?" Kiara spun around too fast. She swayed. “What?” This was the woman who had calmly put her shoe in her room the night Jiro carried her in there, and the one who had barely said two words at the party when Kiara questioned her. A genius could figure out the woman disliked Kiara, so she felt no compunctions about being anything but rude. Her mood, and her health didn't allow for it. "Fuschida-san has asked me to tell you to return to bed, and for me to get you something to eat. What would you like?” The woman meant Jiro, she guessed. Kiara didn't like being commanded to bed, but she figured someone would have to carry her if she didn't go. Grumbling, she returned to her room, requesting only toast and coffee. She lay there for fifteen minutes, and then the maid returned with a tray. Kiara watched her prepare the coffee after Kiara had told her how she liked it. Searching her mind for the woman's name produced nothing. Obviously she had never been told. "Um, sorry, I don't think I ever learned your name,” she began. The woman didn't look up. “Miki,” she mumbled. “Here is your toast and coffee. Will there be anything else?” The question had been asked grudgingly. "Yes,” Kiara began but then sneezed five or six times before she could continue. “Excuse me. I wanted to ask if I'm in the doghouse with Jiro." Miki blinked large round eyes Kiara thought meant she was mixed, and rubbed her hands down the front of the plain black dress she wore. She looked like she was about to turn away without a word, but she paused. “Fuschida-san—" "Jiro?" She nodded. “He is very angry with you. You did not tell him of the problem with Ayumi-san, and he and his grandfather were terrified for her safety. That is a big deal. She is precious to them both, having lost her parents and her other brother."

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Kiara thought about that for a minute. “I'm very sorry for my poor judgment, and if I had to do it over again, I would tell Jiro. I love Ayumi too. Does this mean I will get the colder shoulder than usual?" Miki didn't seem to know what she meant by that, so she didn't bother answering. Kiara blurted out, “Does this mean, I'll have to wait longer for Jiro to visit me?" Two spots of red showed on Miki's cheeks. Kiara wasn't overly sorry for putting them there. The satisfaction she had heard in Miki's tone when she told Kiara that Jiro was angry with her was apparent. Miki took her time answering, with a look so superior on her face, Kiara knew it would not be good news. She considered the options. Jiro would move her to the guest house or, he might cut off any relationship she had with Ayumi. Either way, she dreaded hearing anything. "Fuschida-chan has been pushing for his grandson to choose a bride.” She paused for effect. Kiara's stomach did somersaults. “In a few days, the women most eligible will arrive, and Fuschida-san has promised his grandfather that he will make his decision within a week after that.” Miki leaned in very close to Kiara, crossing some boundaries, Kiara was sure. “Everyone knows that Jiro-san is a highly honorable man. He will not keep a mistress while he is married.” With those cryptic words, the maid left in triumph. Kiara sat on the side of her bed with her toast and coffee even less appealing than it had been a few seconds ago. She was going to be sent away. Not that she didn't want to be independent again, but the fact of the matter was that she loved Jiro. One infraction, and he had written her off. He didn't even have the decency to tell her to her face. When he held a grudge, he held it for real. He had moved quickly to work with his grandfather to bring those ladies here. "Or maybe he had been planning it all along. After all, the women would have had to prepare. No woman would appreciate last minute notice that she was being considered as Jiro's wife, although it was no doubt a great match. The man's family was rich beyond any woman's dreams. “And the sexiest, most perfect lover in existence.” Tears sprang to her eyes. I'm not going to cry! She did, making breathing much harder. Between the lump in her throat and the swollen membranes in her nostrils, she was a horrible mess by the time her door opened again. Seeing Jiro standing in the doorway, she panicked and flipped over to cover her face. Her tray tilted, and her cup overturned. Hot coffee burned her thigh, and she screeched in pain. Jiro closed the space between them in a single stride. He lifted her away from the spill and deposited her onto his lap a safe distance away. With fingers that excited her too much, he lifted her dress and tended to the reddened skin with a cloth. The burn wasn't major, just a penny-sized sore spot that would no doubt ache for a day or two and then heal. Jiro dropped the cloth, but continued to explore her soft brown skin. She trembled in his arms. The only barrier to his exploring further along her leg to the warm spot she knew had grown moist, was that she had begun to cough uncontrollably. Jiro held her in place with an arm at her waist and patted her back with his other hand. He said nothing, making her wonder if she was receiving the silent treatment. "So is this how it will be until your potential wives arrive?” she asked when the coughing and sneezing

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subsided. He stiffened. She had taken him by surprise. He moved her off his lap. With a hand under her chin, he lifted her head and leaned down as though to kiss her, but paused. She was germy after all. He kissed the top of her head, stroked her hair and walked to the door. A hand on the doorknob, he said. “Stay in bed. Someone will come in to pack your things later." [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Fourteen Kiara slid her legs over the side of her new bed and glanced around her new room. She had prepared herself to be tossed out in the street for what happened with Ayumi, at best maybe moved to the guest house with the other mistresses. But Jiro had not treated her as the others had been treated. She had been moved to a small cottage still on his property. She would return to the main house to have her meals, but she had her own space where she could relax in a private sitting room, watch TV or even go for walks out of the immediate sight of those in the main house. She was satisfied for now. As much as she tried to avoid thinking about it, she knew that this peaceful existence was temporary. The women Grandfather had called for to be potential mates for Jiro were still coming. And even if Jiro wasn't an honorable man who wouldn't have a mistress and a wife, she wouldn't stay with a married man. She slipped into the shower, for the first time in three days, feeling like she could stand without wobbling or her head spinning. Jiro hadn't been back to her room except to check that she was settled in. As before, he kissed the top of her head, hugged her and disappeared. He had kept his words few, except to give her her new rules. Resentment filled her in memory of it. "You will no longer teach Ayumi drawing and painting. I will locate a new teacher for her. It's best that the interaction between the two of you is limited,” he went on. "So what you're saying is I am not allowed to speak to her. She can't acknowledge my existence!” she had yelled. “What am I beneath her? Not worthy to breathe the same air as she does?" His countenance had darkened. “Do not be dramatic, Kiara." She had leaped from her bed and stood in her nightie with her hands on her hips. “Don't be dramatic? Hah! Ever since I got here, I've been treated like a second class citizen. Your servants don't even respect me, and as far as I can tell, they never will!” Her legs ached. She thought she might fall over any second and lose the dignity she tried to maintain in the face of this argument. He frowned. “Has anyone been rude to you or refused to help you? Tell me which one, and I will deal with him or her." She grumbled. He was missing the point entirely. “You don't get it, Jiro. I'm nothing, nobody! Everyone here looks down on me, and now it's much worse. They all know my time is just about up, and they show it. Not in what they say or even not helping me. It's-It's the look in their eyes, the attitude—" At that point, she had taken a nose dive toward the floor. Jiro caught her in time and lifted her to place in the bed. He tucked her beneath the covers and kissed the top of her head. This gentleness on his part

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was what had made up for all the dislike she sensed in the others. Jiro had obviously flaunted his family's culture and what Grandfather wanted in order to make her his mistress. He had made sure she had everything she could want, and refused to personally put her on level with the other mistresses by not putting her in the guest house. Beyond all this, she still loved Jiro with all her heart. But she just didn't see a future for them. Now that she was feeling better and could hold a thought in her mind, she would begin planning where she would go after Jiro chose his new wife. She dressed and headed up to the main house for breakfast. She had waited until ten, hoping everyone had already eaten. Her maid had been happy to tell her that the potential brides had arrived the day before. Kiara peeked in the dining room to find it empty. She moved to the opposite doorway that led to the kitchen and knocked. Then she chose a place to sit and dropped into the seat. A few minutes later, a servant took her order and returned shortly after with her plate. For the first time in days, she had something other than soup. Tucking into her buttered eggs, she closed her eyes to savor the flavor. Finally, her taste buds were working again, and her nose was unclogged. Half way through her meal, the door opened and a small beautiful woman entered. She was dressed in the traditional Japanese garb, and made the clothes that Kiara had found restrictive look amazing. She stopped just inside the doorway upon spotting Kiara. Her glittering dark eyes narrowed. “Who are you? Not a late candidate?” Her gaze swept Kiara from head to toe, taking in her turtle neck and slacks. “I have already examined the others and found them wanting. I have decided that I will be Jiro Fuschida's wife." Kiara stared in shock. The woman had balls, that was for sure. But Kiara had to admit, the woman was beautiful, extremely so. Her figure though squat, was perfectly shaped, her breasts full and her hips curved. Her lips held just enough pink and thickness to entice Jiro. She had straight black hair that extended down to her waist. Seeing it, Kiara lifted a hand to her shoulder length hair, which had become slightly kinky while she had been ill. She had intended to ask Jiro to arrange for her to go to a salon soon. Now, in front of this woman, she felt dowdy and ugly. "I am Kiara,” she began, placing her fork down on her plate. “I am Jiro's—" "Mistress!” the woman spat. She lifted her nose in the air, turned on her heel and shuffled over to the kitchen door. She knocked. When a servant answered, the woman indicated Kiara at the table. She said something sure to be an insult in Japanese. The servant moved to Kiara's side. “Miss, please. If you will come back later, then—" "No!” Kiara returned to her eggs and continued to eat. This is America, damn it. She wouldn't stand another second of being treated like crap. Jiro could kiss her ass, and so could his uppity grandfather. She shoveled another bite of food into her mouth. The woman gasped, placing a hand over her chest. She turned trembling to the servant and muttered something. The servant hurried from the room. Moments later, the dining room door burst open. The man who had yelled at Kiara the night Ayumi had gone missing flew through the opening. "You!” His nostrils couldn't flare any wider, she was sure. “You have been tolerated up until now because Fuschida-chan wants to indulge his grandson, but this is too much. You ignore our culture, dishonor this house! Enough is enough. You will get up from that table and leave here immediately!” He

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slammed his fist on the table. Her plate jumped, and her glass nearly overturned. The man hovered over Kiara, his build bulky, and his face red. She had no idea of the kind of person he was, whether he would lay a hand on a woman, but just by his stance she was reminded of Odell's abuse. All this time in Jiro's home she had stood up for herself in a few tiny instances without fear of being hurt. Now the old fears surfaced, and she could barely move let alone stand up for herself. She waited for the hammer to fall, the pain to follow. His face grew mottled. “Did you hear me? I said—" "Enough!" All eyes turned to the doorway. Jiro stood there with several beautiful women behind him. His face was a mask of anger. The man berating Kiara snapped his mouth closed and took a step back. He bowed, mumbling to Jiro. Her love stepped past the man, practically elbowing him aside. He caught Kiara beneath her chin and lifted it to examine her face. “Are you okay? He didn't touch you?" She shook her head. “No." "But he frightened you?" She didn't answer, not wanting to admit it. The tremor in her limbs made the fact hard to hide. Jiro didn't wait for an answer, he pointed to her plate. “Finish your meal. Then we will talk." The man tried to protest, but Jiro silenced him with a look. Kiara was no longer hungry but with all the drama and Jiro sweeping in as her hero, she couldn't actually say so. She choked down the last few bites and finished off her juice while everyone stood silently watching. Talk about being on display . She pushed her plate away after wiping her mouth. Jiro offered his hand. With her head held high, she took it, stood and followed him out of the room with as much dignity as possible. While she didn't spare any of the others more than a glance, she knew they were about ready to combust as angry as they were that Jiro had defended her. Jiro escorted her out of the front door and around to the path that would lead them into the trees. After walking for awhile, she figured out that he was leading her toward the place Ayumi had taken her, hidden in the trees. They sat on the bench in the midst of the tiny clearing with Jiro silent at her side. Kiara glanced over at his handsome face. She had to admit that she missed him. He hadn't visited her bed for days. She longed to hop on his lap and kiss his lips numb. Jiro put his hand out, and she set hers in his palm. He carried her hand to his lips, kissed her gently and held on. "I thought this would work out,” he said. She gasped. “Jiro..." "Come here.” He held out his arms. She stood and slid onto his lap. Jiro covered her mouth with a kiss that set her body on fire. He ran his hand along her inner thigh and stopped just before her apex. Peppering kisses along her throat, he trailed down toward her breast. When he teased her nipple, she moaned, squirming to get closer to him, but he drew back. His breathing was harsh as he rested his face in the valley between her breasts. “I want to keep you forever,” he muttered almost angrily.

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It was the closest he had come to telling her he loved her. She knew how his people were. While they had a word for love, they almost never used it. Still, her heart longed for him to say it. Just because Jiro felt affection for her or whatever he felt, didn't mean he loved her or that he thought her worthy of being his wife. She longed for him to be like American men, the good ones, but the fact remained that he wasn't. And no amount of demanding it would change him. Jiro placed her on her feet and stood. He glanced around and turned toward a direction that led away from the house. She followed silently, picking her way through the trees. When they reached a well-worn path, Jiro tucked his hands behind his back and walked proud and silent. Kiara didn't push him to speak. Spending time with him was enough for now. "If it was entirely up to me,” he said after a while, “I would allow you to spend time with Ayumi. I see that you care for her. I was angry for a while because you did not tell me of her obsession, but I realize you would do nothing to hurt her." Kiara nodded. “Of course not. She's like the little sister I never had." He went on in a calm and unemotional voice. “Grandfather is her official guardian, not me, although I have direct care of her. I make all the decisions regarding Ayumi, but he asked that you not be allowed to interact with her. This is not an unreasonable request as a child her age wouldn't consort with mistresses." He fell silent. Kiara struggled not to cry. Here again, she was faced with her low level in the society of the Fuschida household. "You are more than a mere mistress.” He almost snapped the words out. Where Kiara had wanted to cry, now she wanted to laugh. Jiro wasn't used to the touchy feeling expressions. He no doubt felt embarrassed to admit to her or anyone else that she was more than a body for sexual pleasure to him. It warmed her but didn't take away the issues facing them. She didn't want to discuss leaving him. "We've been together a while now, but I feel like I don't know you,” she told him. “What you do ... Is it difficult? I mean does it bother you to take another's life?" "Kiara.” His voice held a warning. "Please,” she begged. “I need to know, Jiro. I want to know you better." "You want to feel like there is some redeeming quality in me,” he insisted. “It helps your own conscious to think that I lose sleep nights because of the lives I've taken over the years." She stopped walking, glared at him with her hands on her hips. “Well do you?" "If I say I do not?” His face remained impassive. "You make it hard to get to know you. All we've done is make love and go on a few shopping trips,” she grumbled. “Why can't you open up? Why can't you tell me what your fears are, if you have insecurities like regular people? Maybe you're a machine. All feeling is dead, or became so after you killed the tenth person!" He approached her, his eyes narrowed and his eyebrows lowered. She lifted her chin, standing her ground. This time, he would not intimidate her. If nothing else, she had grown stronger while living in

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Jiro's house, under his care. His mouth curved upward on one side. She imagined he guessed what she had been thinking, that she wouldn't be bullied by his unhappy look. It seemed to please him. “Kiara, as much as you desire it, I cannot be the man you want me to be. I am what I am." "But you want me to be a woman I could never be, too,” she insisted. “You want me to be this obedient little thing that knows ‘her place', and I can't be that person. I am what I am." His expression turned sad. “You're right.” He drew her into his arms, holding her tight and kissing the top of her head. “My pride told me I could have anything I wanted. I wanted you and despite what my grandfather said, I was determined to have you. Even now, I want to take you far away to hold on to you." She shook, tears flowing down her cheeks. “But you won't. One of the maids said you're very honorable. She said you won't cheat on your wife by keeping a mistress." Jiro kissed her for a long moment and raised his head. He caressed her tears away from her cheeks. “I will admit to being tempted to forget everything and everyone—my culture, my family." That was a big deal. She stared up into his eyes. His words went a long way to convincing her that he loved her. She nuzzled closer. Just a little longer in his arms, to hear his deep voice with its sexy accent. "Come.” He turned her back toward the house. “I must return to my guests." She told herself the tone in his voice was that of depression at the prospect of looking over the beautiful women, bred to obey him, to offer herself to his every desire. [Back to Table of Contents]

Chapter Fifteen The one week wife selecting process was either not true or Jiro was taking longer than he had agreed to choose his bride. Kiara was both relieved and frustrated. The torment and stress of seeing the women fawn over him wore on her nerves, but the nights spent in his arms were all a woman could ask for. Kiara stretched in bed, glancing over at Jiro. She loved watching him sleep. His lashes were longer than hers, curling on his cheeks and making him seem like an innocent boy rather than a sometimes cold man. She wondered if he would have straight black hair if he hadn't shaved his head, and she wondered what their baby would look like if they had one together. But that wasn't likely. Jiro had made sure she had protection. There would be no accidents, or rather no little blessings to take with her when she left. He opened his eyes suddenly and smiled. “How long have you been watching me?" "Not long,” she lied. He gave her a disbelieving look and opened his arms. She settled against his chest, squirming when she felt he was erect. The man's sexual appetite knew no bounds. “You're always hard in the morning. "It's a male thing. You wouldn't understand,” he said in what he probably thought was a black man's way

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of saying it. He came off sounding silly, and Kiara laughed. She wasn't aware the man had that much of a sense of humor. He was normally so serious. "Uh, huh,” she laughed. “Sure." Jiro kissed her head. “Kiara, are you too sore to take me again before I have to leave?" She shook her head and reached down between them to take him in her hand. He groaned. She squeezed gently while running her palm up and down his length. His member quivered, igniting memories of Jiro driving deep and hard inside her. No amount of soreness could deny her that once again. Besides, their separation was looming. She wanted all she could get. Jiro eased her over to her back and positioned himself between her legs. She expected him to enter her already moist center, but instead, he slid lower, kissing along her stomach, caressing her breasts. He tweaked the rigid peaks while she moaned and covered his hands. "Yes.” She lifted her hips to him when his mouth reached her apex. His tongue teased her button. He sucked it into his mouth and then let it slide out. He lapped at her juices, dipping his tongue inside and withdrawing. She pulled his head toward her. He pushed her hands to her sides, holding them in place. "No, lie still. Let me pleasure you.” His eyes had darkened. He buried his face between her thighs, and she was lost as he ate, greedy and wild, noisy to the point that she was coming with the erotic sound alone. He nuzzled her with his nose. “Mmm, you're delicious,” he told her. She prayed he would never stop. Jiro covered her swollen bud and sucked. His hot mouth coaxed her desires to volcanic levels. She screamed, knowing no one would hear in her own little house. “Jiro!" "Come,” he demanded. Her body exploded. She writhed, fighting his hold on her wrists. The waves crashed over her abdomen, arrowing down to her wet apex. Jiro greedily licked up every drop she offered him. What a turn-on, to know her lover enjoyed her flavor like she was his favorite dessert. She arched her hips, pushing up to his mouth. He didn't stop licking and teasing her nub until she was climaxing for the second and then the third time. "Once again,” he demanded, like her body was his to command. Yet, the hot thing obeyed the man like her mind never had. She came and came. Only when she gasped for a needed breath did he stop, resting his moist cheek against her thigh. He glanced up at her, struggling to regulate his own breath. “Did you like that?" "You know I did." "I need to come,” he told her, an eyebrow rising in question. She nodded. “Let me ride?" "Not this time.” He climbed up higher, resting his thick erection at her entrance. “I want to thrust and pump." "You want to dominate me,” she told him. “You love me on my back in the missionary position."

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"Is that a crime?” Now both his eyebrows shot upward. He wasn't angry. Jiro was not ashamed of what he liked or what he wanted. He would never force her, but the man was all about claiming what was his. Neither of them could deny her body was one of the things he owned without question. He pushed in without warning. She bit her lip, her eyes closing automatically. His strokes were long and slow, easing all the way in and all the way out. She felt him watching her face as he normally did. He liked to see the expressions flit across her face. At first, he had encouraged her to watch him in return, but that had been impossible. Making love with Jiro was too much, the pleasure too intense not to lose all sense of time and space. His tool, thick and long, filled her to capacity and pushed her past that point until she wept at the pain and pleasure combined. He took it slow until her muscles relaxed, and then he thrust hard and fast. His hips slapped against hers. His balls banged her rear each time he drove inside. She cried out his name, pleaded with him, for what she didn't know. He grunted and groaned, sweat beading and then dripping down his forehead. Still he drove in and out. Don't let it stop, she cried silently. Jiro lifted one of her legs and pushed it over his shoulder to rest on the opposite one. The move caused him to slam against her ass and heightened the experience. She fought for a breath. “Jiro!" "Hold on, Kiara,” he encouraged. She was roaring toward another orgasm, but he wanted her to hold on. As far as she knew, no man could hold on as long as Jiro. He could pound at her yet still not come until he was good and ready. She loved his control. Jiro liked to keep the pleasure going for long minutes until both of them were nearly out of their minds. "Jiro, I need to come,” she screamed. He squeezed one of her ass cheeks while he pumped. That did it. Her thighs quivered, pressure built deep inside. She gave in. Her climax burst forth. Simultaneously, she felt the hot flow of Jiro's seed filling her womb. She wiggled beneath him, doing her best to milk out every single drop. After a few trembling thrusts, he collapsed on top of her, his lips pressed against her neck. “Kiara.” A world of feeling inhabited that single word. **** Kiara hid in the library, where it seemed none of Jiro's potential wives bothered to go. She strolled along the rows of books stretching from floor to ceiling in search of something to help her pass the day. Jiro had taken her into town to get her hair done and allowed her to shop for a few hours. But that had been days ago. Now, she was having a time finding something to do. "Kiara!” Ayumi's excited voice startled Kiara. She swung around to see the young girl standing just inside the door. Before Kiara could utter a word, Ayumi flew across the room and into her arms. “I've missed you so much. How can we live on the same property and not see each other for two weeks?" Kiara laughed while hugging her close. “I don't know, but your brother and grandfather have managed it well. Most of my days are spent down at my cottage, near the lake. It is nice though." Ayumi agreed. “Yes, that is nice. I've been told to stay away from that area, but when I saw you come in here, I ditched my new art teacher to sneak in to say hi."

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Jealousy hit Kiara over Ayumi's new instructor. “Is she any good?" Ayumi shrugged. “She's okay, but not as good as you. She's kind of too sweet, and she keeps reminding me to tell Jiro-san that I'm happy with her. I think she's more interested in impressing him than me.” The girl rolled her eyes. “Another woman trying to get my brother." "Like there aren't enough already.” Kiara's eyes widened, and she covered her mouth, embarrassed. “Sorry, I shouldn't have said that." "Don't worry. Everybody knows you're the only one for Jiro-san,” Ayumi asserted. “Those other women are too boring. Jiro-san likes someone to keep him on his toes.” Ayumi's face suddenly fell, and she looked down at the floor. “Kiara, I'm sorry for what happened when I went off with Luke. I didn't realize you would get into so much trouble." Kiara hugged her. She pulled the girl over to a loveseat and sat her down. “What happened? Where did you go?" "Luke and I never left the property.” She rolled her eyes again. “He was too scared. Talk about just a pretty face!" Kiara laughed. "We took the horses and road out of sight of the stables. Then we hid them in the old barn that nobody uses anymore. Jiro-san was supposed to have it torn down, but he hasn't yet. Then we went over to the guesthouse and played board games." "The guesthouse!” Kiara remembered seeing the woman in the window stripping down the other night. She hoped Ayumi and her friend hadn't been privy to activity like that over there. “Sweetie, that's not the kind of place you want to hang out." "Don't worry.” She patted Kiara's hand as if she were a child herself. “We actually went down to the basement. There's this passage that leads to a bomb shelter. I should take you down to see it sometime. Anyway, it wasn't until Luke fell asleep and I started realizing he wasn't all that smart that I got bored with him. After that, I came back to the house." Her offhanded comment about Luke not being smart enough bothered Kiara, but she was young. Her fascination with him was over, and he had been sent home never to be invited back. Hopefully the entire experience had taught her something about not worrying her family and the consequences of her words and actions. Voices in the hall caught Kiara's attention. She jumped to her feet. “Ayumi, you better get out of here. If we're caught together, we'll both be in trouble." Ayumi nodded, gave Kiara a final hug and hurried for the door. She stopped and turned back. “Well I'm going to sneak and visit you at your cottage, Kiara. I don't care what anyone says." "Ayumi,” Kiara began, but the girl disappeared. A moment later, her loud greeting using the word Kiara recognized as that used for her grandfather reached Kiara's ears. Kiara glanced around the room. She spotted a door leading outside and hurried over to it to let herself out. As soon as her feet touched the gravel on the driveway and turned toward the direction of her cottage, a

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hand covered her mouth. An arm hoisted her up off her feet and ground her against a hard body. Not again. Please! A car pulled up alongside her, and the man holding her, shoved her inside. The car pulled off. Kiara elbowed the man's ribs and kicked as hard as she could. Her efforts were pointless. The man yanked her hands behind her back, tied them securely and then stuffed her mouth with a cloth. She had been abducted yet again. Life with Jiro had too many issues. She wondered when and how the men had gotten past all the guards on the property. And then a new idea hit her. At night the grounds were crawling with Jiro's men. In the daylight, as it was now, the possibilities of someone getting by them was impossible. That could mean only one thing, she thought. The men may have been following Grandfather's orders. Just yesterday, she had overheard an intense conversation between Jiro and his grandfather. From the few words she could figure out, Jiro was still dragging his feet about choosing a wife. Her guess was he had decided to take matters into his hands. He would get rid of Jiro's temptation— her! For what felt like hours, the car careened down whatever streets it traveled on. Kiara continued to work against her bonds while the man who had grabbed her had moved to the front see with his buddy. Kiara listened, trying to make out their words, but somehow she thought they were speaking a different language other than Japanese. Yet, their accent was distinctly Asian. Finally, the swaying of the car ceased. The back door opened, and the man pulled her out. She stumbled a few feet before gaining her balance and looking around. They were inside an underground parking lot. One of the men stood guard with a gun at the ready. Kiara's eyes widened at the sight of it. She took a few steps back, but the other man yanked her forward, shoving his grim face close to hers. He gestured to a duffle bag at his feet that she hadn't noticed them removing from the car. "In this bag is all you need to take care of yourself, find a place to live. If you stay away from Fuschida-san, not try to contact him, you will get a bonus. You and your friend can live a comfortable life, away from the Fuschida family." Kiara couldn't believe her ears. She stood there blinking, head feeling like it would explode with all the thoughts vying for attention. She didn't need wonder any longer. Grandfather had arranged this whole kidnapping, and now he was trying to buy her off to keep her away from his grandson. The man in front of her untied her hands and removed the gag from her mouth. He stuffed everything in the car, and he and his cohort slid into the sleek black vehicle before pulling off. Only after they were gone, and she was left in a daze with the duffle bag, did she remember the man had said she and her friend could live a comfortable life with the money Grandfather had given her. What friend were they talking about? "What's up, Kiara?" She turned around almost in slow motion to find Odell. [Back to Table of Contents]

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Chapter Sixteen Kiara's mind refused to believe that Grandfather could be so cruel as to tell Odell where to find her, yet here the jerk was. The fact that the old man had done his homework, finding out about her past, should have told him of how Odell used to abuse her. This situation was a testament to how far the man would go to get her out of his grandson's life. She guessed he hoped Odell would kill her this time, ensuring she would never darken their doorstep again, and eliminating the need to pay her more money to stay away. The hurt that a person could be that depraved, as depraved as Odell himself was, tore at her insides. "Leave me alone, Odell,” she told him and picked up her bag. He darted forward and snatched the bag away, a challenge in his eyes. “Now what? Yeah, I know everything, how you been a rich Japanese guy's whore all this time. I wondered why I couldn't find you, why my P.I. always found a reason to be out of town permanently before he located you. What happened, you hook up with the Asian mob?" She frowned. “I don't know what you're talking about.” She spun away and began walking toward the exit. "What are you going to do without the money they gave you, Kiara?” he called after her. She didn't look back. “I've made it on my own many times before with nothing in my pockets. I can do it again.” Weariness stole over her limbs. Odell was true to form. He would steal the money given to her and leave her with nothing. But just as she said, she would always make it. She just hoped this time he had lost interest in her. Maybe he was here just to get his hands on the money, and he would disappear. No such luck. “Where do you think you're going?” He caught up to dig his thick fingers into her arm. “I know those guys are going to contact you in a few days to give you more money. I'm going to be there." Jerking her arm free, she faced him. “No, you're not. I'm done with you. Get lost, Odell! You got what you came for. There's the money. Now go spend it, and leave me alone." For her smart mouth, she got a slap across the face that landed her on her ass on the greasy ground. Her cheek stung. She worked her jaw, blinking away tears as she stood. “Don't you touch me again,” she whispered, standing slowly. He swung again but she ducked, spun away and began running in the opposite direction. The parking structure curved upward. She headed higher to another level, intending to locate a door or elevator that would take her back to ground level and out to freedom. "Get back here!” Odell was in hot pursuit. Kiara ran faster, looking around for anything that would help her fight him off. Of course, there was nothing. The only thing present in such a neat place were cars. She wished she could break into one and run his ass over with it. That wouldn't work. If she stopped even for a second, he would be on her. As it was, she was running uphill and wasn't as fast as he was. Fear gave her an added burst of speed, but it wouldn't last. An exit door came into view when she rounded a corner. Kiara pushed to get to it, hearing Odell's footsteps close behind. She reached for the knob and found her entire body slammed into the door. Odell grabbed her hair to jerk her head back. “What the fuck, Kiara, did you think you could get away

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from me?" Her head spinning, a thought of Jiro's handsome face slid across her memory. Her heart longed for him, but he was out of reach, probably didn't know she was gone yet. She could imagine that Grandfather had manufactured a letter supposedly written by her saying she was leaving. There was a good chance Jiro wouldn't come looking for her. He would more likely believe she had wanted to leave and that it was the best way given he would have sent her away eventually. While her chest constricted thinking of never seeing him again, her anger rose also. Odell thought he could take away her freedom. He had better be prepared to kill her because she wasn't giving it up. She lifted her foot and slammed it down on his. He cried out. His hold on her loosened. She put a foot up to brace on the wall and shoved backward hard. The two of them went down to the floor when Odell lost his balance. She heard the smack of the back of his head hitting the cement. She whirled away and stood not to run but to kick him in his side. "Ah! You bitch!” he screamed. She kicked again. He rolled away and gained his feet. She looked around for a weapon. There was still nothing. “What you going to do, Kiara? Huh? You've done it now. I'm pissed. You need to relearn your place, and I'm prepared to teach you." "Fuck you, Odell!” she spat. She raised her hands, ready to scratch his eyes out if he came close. For the first time, he looked unsure. “I'll kill you, in your sleep if I have to, but I will. My lover asked me if I wanted him to kill you, and I said no because I didn't believe in taking a person's life, even your sorry life. But I'm over that! If you touch me once more, I'm going to end your life. You can count on it." "Not if I end yours first!” He came at her with a punch to her jaw and another following in her stomach. She sank to her knees. He moved around behind her and threw his full weight on top of her so they were both flat on the ground. “You look good, Kiara,” he muttered in her ear. “Gained some weight while you were gone. Maybe I should get me a little taste right here. Bet you've been missing dick as big as mine ‘cause I bet his was microscopic, huh?" She spit out blood, laughing. “Don't fool yourself, Odell. He was way bigger than you, and he knew how to use it." He raged, hurting her eardrums. With an arm around her neck, he yanked her up some from the ground so he could tear open her blouse. She tucked her chin close to her chest, bringing the meat of his arm up to her mouth. Without a second thought, she bit deep and hard. Odell screamed. Kiara felt his skin tear and his flesh give way to her sharp teeth. All the strength left Odell's body. His hold went limp. Kiara pulled up a knee and shoved. He rolled off her to his side. She scrambled to her feet and stood over him. Tears ran down his face as he nursed his torn arm. Kiara spat blood into his face, reared back and kicked the side of his head as hard as she could. Odell's eyes closed. He was finally still. Footsteps on the stairs made her jump. Someone opened the door and stopped with an exclamation at seeing Odell on the ground covered in blood. The man looked at her, and she could imagine she looked just as bad. Where were you all this time , she wondered resentfully. "Ar-Are you okay?” he asked. Tears slid down her cheeks. “He attacked me,” she murmured. “I don't know where the strength came

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from to hurt him. I think ... I think you should call the police." The man bobbed his head, yanking his cell phone from his jacket. Soon other people began appearing from nowhere. Kiara heard sirens in the distance. On unsteady legs, she moved around Odell's body and retrieved the duffle bag. Someone had produced a chair for her to sit on. She sank into it and rested her head on her bag to wait. **** Kiara tugged her blouse down over her hips and picked up her brush to bring some order to her hair. She could hardly believe it had been a year since she last saw Jiro, and she still missed him with everything inside. But her life now was simpler if more satisfying. She managed a small art supply store, a fun job if ever there was one. Grandfather's money had provided her a place to live in a random city, away from everyone she had ever known. The difference this time, of course, was that Odell would never again be bothering her. The court had determined that her actions were self-defense. She was a completely free woman. She stared at her reflection in the mirror. Still thinner than was probably healthy, but doing okay. And one day, she would stop hurting over loving and losing Jiro. Maybe she would even meet someone new, who had a normal job, from a normal background. She shrugged. “Well, that's not today. Let's go, woman. You have to open the store.” A smile stretched her lips. She had not accepted any additional money from Grandfather's men to take care of herself, but did accept just enough to have work done on her jaw and her teeth. Now she was as good as new. Out on the street, outside her apartment, she caught a cab, an occasional luxury, and gave instructions for the man to take her to Forty-ninth and Coleman. In the artistic quarter, she shared shop space with others like her who either sold paintings or sculptures or craft supplies. Kiara's shop was all about painting and drawing. She had everything the aspiring artist would need, including holding small classes monthly to teach students. No one as interesting as Jiro had come in as yet. Kiara was just getting settled in at work, when her favorite customer came in. Her heart went out to this woman because she saw the same haunted look in her eyes that had been in hers for too long. “Morning, Toni. How are you?” Kiara asked brightly. The woman's response was barely a twitch of her lips. “Hi, Kiara. I just need a little blue cobalt. You said you would have it in on Tuesday.” Kiara knew the escape painting was. Blue cobalt was essential to painting tranquil scenes, she had found. "Of course, sweetie. Let me get it.” She shuffled through boxes she hadn't unpacked yet. “I was forced to get this other brand I feel is just as good, but a little pricier because my regular supplier had some kind of issue and...” She trailed off at the stricken look on Toni's face. “What's wrong?" "Pricier?” she squeaked. With a pain in her chest, Kiara watched Toni count out coins on the counter. Tears sprung to her eyes. “Don't worry about it. I can let you have it on credit." Toni shook her head. “No, you have to make a living too. It's been hard for all us artists lately. I can do without it. I'll just hustle a little this afternoon.” Toni lifted a hand to her short-cropped hair. A noticeable bald spot sat just above her ear. She tugged on the surrounding locks, trying to cover it.

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Kiara pretended to drop something on the floor and ducked down. Her body shook with sobs. She knew that look. At some imagined infraction, Toni's boyfriend had probably hacked off her hair to punish her. When she had herself in hand, she wiped her face and stood. She reached across to Toni and gathered her in her arms. “Baby, leave him. You can come stay with me. You'll be safe, I promise." Toni pulled away. “I-I..." "Don't stand there and tell me you don't know what I'm talking about,” Kiara insisted. “I know the signs. And I know the escape found in painting. At least temporarily." She looked down at her hands. “I have tried, again and again. He finds me. Every time. I don't know how. I dream of ... Never mind. This is my problem, but thank you for the offer." The bell over the door rang. Kiara jumped along with Toni. She knew the woman's expression was as nervous as hers was with them discussing Toni's situation. But there in the door was a sight for sore eyes. Jiro's wide shoulders, his muscular body seemed less so, and dark skin circled his eyes, but he was just as handsome as always. She gasped. At her gasp, Toni turned to look at her. “Is that the one that hurt you?” she asked fearfully. Kiara shook her head. “No. That's the one who rescued me, helped me to believe in myself and grow enough to fight back." The envy in Toni's sigh was clear. “Lucky.” She gathered her change up from the counter still mesmerized by Jiro's presence. Kiara dragged her own gaze from him long enough to scribble “No Charge” on a slip of paper and wrap two tubes of paint in it before inching it into Toni's large purse. She would have a happy surprise later. “Thank you for your help, Kiara. I'll come in later after I've made the money.” She turned and hurried from the store. Jiro, who had held the door open for Toni, walked across to stand in front of Kiara. His gaze wandered over her body from head to toe, and she tried to see herself mentally as he must be seeing. Too thin, rumpled second-hand clothing, hair that wouldn't behave in the humid weather and just plain worn out. "You are even more beautiful than the image I have held in my mind,” he said. She gaped. He stroked her cheek, surprising her with the public display. “I have missed you." She stepped back. “Jiro, you shouldn't touch me. I'm sure your wife wouldn't like it." For a long time, he didn't say anything. She wanted to sink through the floor for reminding him. Just one more touch, a hug, a kiss. But no, she had to remind him that he was not hers anymore, as if he had ever really been. Her heart shattered anew. Why couldn't she just get over the man? Her life hadn't been perfect with him. His servants thought she was worthless. His grandfather had set her up to be killed. Jiro himself was a killer and wouldn't change. He leaned down and kissed the tip of her nose. “Sweet Kiara. How have I survived these last twelve months apart from you? I thought you no longer wanted to be with me, until..." She stared up at him. “Until what?"

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"Until Grandfather was on his dead bed.” The anguish was plain in his voice. “He told me the note you left was false, that he had sent you away with money, but that you refused the bulk of it." She nodded, lifting her chin. “I took enough to get an apartment and used some to buy this place and take care of some medical problems." His eyes grew wide. “Medical problems?” His shocked stare dropped to her belly and she gasped. "No, not that. I am surprised you didn't check up on me like last time.” She didn't feel the need to explain. “I'm very sorry to hear about your grandfather. He passed?" Jiro nodded. “Yes, heart failure. As much as it hurts me to lose another family member, I realize it is now time for change." She had looked away, wondering if a comforting hug would be out of order. At his words, she focused on him. “What kind of change?" "A change that brings us into the twenty-first century, a change that brings me here to ask you to come back to me. I am not wrong in thinking you still care for me?" Care. Not love. She sighed. “So you're not married? And your profession, has that changed as well?" He grew quiet for a moment, his face unreadable. “I am not married, nor am I engaged." "But you do work as an assassin? You will continue to take on cases that have you traveling around the world to kill others.” She pressed her lips together, turned away to face her counter. Not seeing what was before her, she continued unpacking the supplies she had ordered. "Kiara..." Grateful that no other customers had arrived so early in the morning, she was glad there was no one to overhear their conversation. “I killed Odell." "I didn't have you followed, but I did send someone to ... limit his activities, only to find that he was dead. I learned the circumstances and was proud of you. I wish that you had allowed me to take care of it for you." "It wasn't planned,” she snapped. “Your grandfather had me snatched away, and on the same day made sure Odell was waiting. I fought for my life!" His hands dropped onto her shoulders. The heat of his body so close behind her made her tremble with longing to be curled beneath him, making love until she was exhausted. He kissed the top of her head. “Kiara, I'm so sorry. I would keep all pain away from you, if you let me." "I don't need you to take care of me, Jiro. I'm stronger now. I can take care of myself. I can support myself without too much trouble. But..." He grabbed onto her last word. “But?" "But I won't fight another abusive man who thinks he can run over a woman just because she's weaker, because he doesn't know how to handle his anger or let go of his obsession."

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"What? I've never abused you, Kiara. I would never." "Not you.” She turned to face him. “I want to hire you, to kill someone." His eyes grew wide. She wanted to laugh. Things had certainly changed, not necessarily for the better. But she was not willing to walk away and live a life of luxury with Jiro while Toni remained stuck in the pain she had to deal with. No one should have to. And if Jiro was determined to stay in his current profession, then she would make use of it, in some positive way. Her stomach still roiled at the thought, but she knew the answer to his question of regrets now. She would not regret this decision. Not one day. "That woman who was in here earlier. Her boyfriend is like Odell. I want you to end his pathetic existence.” She stepped into his arms. In a daze, Jiro hugged her close, and she rested her face against his chest. “Before you ask, I will have no regrets. I want him dead!" Jiro grasped her face between both his hands. He kissed her lips for a long minute, and she gave into him, loving his touch, loving him. "You'll come back to me?” he half begged. She hesitated, not looking up at him. “I'm unsure of how you feel about me, Jiro, or even what capacity I will be there with you. I know I can't change you. I've come to accept that, but a relationship is a two way street and—" "I love you with all my heart. Marry me! Be my wife, Kiara.” He lifted her chin, staring down at her with glowing eyes. "Yes,” she breathed. “Yes, I will." The End

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Loving Jiro

Loving Jiro

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Loving Jiro

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Loving Bella

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