by Pamela Aares
“Sabrina. What happened back there… It shouldn’t have happened. If you don’t want to work with me anymore, I understand. Maybe stopping now would be best.”
“You’re kidding, right? I can move my arm, Kaz. Move it.” She raised her arm above her head. “I don’t know what it is you’re doing, but there’s no way I’m quitting now.”
He didn’t want to tell her that breaking through the bodily layer of her problem was only the first step. Something else held her, some force he didn’t understand, a force she’d have to be much more prepared for if she wanted to face it and stand it down. But she was so happy in the moment that telling her what lay ahead could wait.
She jammed her hands to her hips. “And besides,” she said, peeking up at him from under her lashes, “I initiated that kiss. The responsibility for that isn’t on you.”
The energy that had passed between them wouldn’t be curbed by intentions and the assignment of responsibility. If she didn’t change her mind and they continued their work, he’d have to be on guard. He knew the power that working with the body could unfurl. She didn’t.
Over Sabrina’s shoulder, Kaz saw his grandmother standing on the porch near the gong. Watching him. Watching them.
“We should head up.” He nodded toward the porch.
“You’re back early,” Kaz said with a slight bow when they reached the steps. “This is Sabrina Tavonesi. Sabrina, this is my grandmother.”
His grandmother bowed, and Sabrina bowed in turn.
“I think I’m getting too old to sit on those cushions at the retreat, Kazi-san. The spirit might not age, but bones have a way of telling time. Two days of meditation will have to do.” She glanced to Sabrina. “Your friend must be hungry. I saw that you haven’t prepared anything for lunch.”
Her polite manner covered her disturbance, but Kaz knew she’d seen them kissing; the truth was in her voice.
“I thought cereal topped with noodles might do,” he said in a humorous tone, trying to break the tension.
To her credit, Sabrina laughed.
“I’ll have lunch ready in half an hour, Kazi.” Obaa-chan turned to Sabrina. “Would you like to help me?”
Great. Obaa-chan might be traditional and old-fashioned, but she was also nosy as hell.
Sabrina followed Kaz’s grandmother into the kitchen. Dressed in dark traditional Japanese garb, she looked like she was from another world, another time. And she instructed Sabrina much as Kaz had, with the same gentle directing tone, only without the flooding energy he stirred.
Sabrina touched her fingers to her lips. Though she’d initiated the kiss, she hadn’t been in any way prepared for the tumbling feeling in her heart that accompanied the swift shot of pleasure. Being touched by him seemed like sensual sorcery. But her touching him? Before her lips met his, she’d never imagined the power of such a kiss. Sure, she’d listened to the breathless tales of her girlfriends and cousins. And had thought all along she’d experienced the sort of kisses they were describing. She’d been wrong. Very wrong.
“When you finish, just put those onions in one of these bowls.”
Kaz’s grandmother’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She was still getting used to the elderly woman’s very formal British accent.
Sabrina held the knife and stared at the blade. A Japanese character was inscribed near the handle. She grasped the green onion and set the knife to it. And turned over in her mind questions about the mysterious power of the kiss she and Kaz had shared.
“Miss Tavonesi?”
The old lady’s gaze bored into Sabrina, and Sabrina blushed. But to her relief, Kaz’s grandmother simply scraped the onion pieces into an exquisite raku bowl in the middle of the polished wood counter and then handed Sabrina some mushrooms.
“Thin slices, Miss Tavonesi. Like this.”
With a deftness Sabrina could only imagine perfecting, the woman’s aged hands produced thin and perfect slices of neatly stacked mushrooms.
“Please call me Sabrina.”
She nodded. “And you may call me Obaa.” She narrowed her piercing gaze. “Kazi tells me you have a problem.”
Sabrina stopped slicing.
“He’s helping me with my arm,” she answered quickly. “I was…injured.”
“I saw the magazines at the grocery store. You were attacked.”
“Sort of.”
“If that’s sort of, I would not want to experience the real thing.”
Obaa emptied perfect cubes of tofu into a bowl and then peered at Sabrina.
“Yet I think your problem is perhaps more than just the pain in your arm.”
Sabrina didn’t like the unsettled feeling that coursed through her as Obaa held her in her gaze. It was as if Kaz’s wrinkled old grandmother were delving directly into her soul, seeing something there that Sabrina had yet to acknowledge, hadn’t sought to understand.
Kaz strode into the kitchen. “Don’t let her razz you.” He took the knife from Sabrina. “Or use you as slave labor. That’s what she has me for.”
He cut the mushrooms into perfect uniform slices. Seeing Kaz teasing and working beside his grandmother made Sabrina like him more. Maybe too much.
When the miso soup was ready, they sat down to eat at the kitchen table.
“Tell me about the movie Kaz tells me you are preparing to make,” Obaa said.
Sabrina realized she hadn’t thought about her film role since she’d arrived at the farm.
“It’s a story about a woman who falls into a dream and until she faces and battles the dark forces she meets there, she can’t escape and return to her normal life.”
Obaa raised a brow, looked over at Kaz and then back to Sabrina. Whatever message passed between them, she couldn’t read.
“What else do you do?”
“This isn’t a game show,” Kaz said as he poured Obaa another cup of green tea.
“I’m interested. And she’s the most interesting person we’ve had around here for months. All you talk about is baseball, baseball, baseball. I know you love it, but I’d like to hear about Sabrina.” She eyed Kaz and added, “And what happened to respect and defer to your elders?”
She smiled at Kaz, and he grinned back.
Eskimos might have a hundred words for snow, but evidently the Japanese had a hundred ways to smile. A hundred ways that they alone knew how to interpret.
Obaa turned back to Sabrina. “What else do you do in your life?”
“I’m on the board of an organization that rescues abused donkeys.”
Obaa’s face wrinkled with her frown. “Why would anyone abuse a donkey? They’re the sweetest and most loyal creatures.” Her gaze softened and she took on a faraway look. “But then, humans can be mean, can’t they?”
“Anytime you value one life over another, it’s a slippery slope,” Sabrina said. “That’s how something like Auschwitz can happen, or internment camps and wars and—” She stopped. She’d forgotten that Kaz had told her his family had been interned during the war.
Obaa reached out and tapped her fingers to Sabrina’s arm. She wore no rings or bracelets. Her only ornament was a finely carved hair comb tucked into the bun at the top of her head. “It’s all right, Sabrina. I am here now and those memories are far behind me.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“You were not the one to herd us from our homes and lock us away. Take us from our land. But you know the worst thing? Did Kaz tell you the worst thing?”
Sabrina shook her head. Kaz sat back in his chair. He may have heard this story a hundred times, but Sabrina wanted to hear it, needed to hear it.
“Our trees nearly died. If a couple of our neighbors hadn’t realized that we’d been taken, if they hadn’t turned on the irrigation, we would have lost everything.”
“Prejudice is a blurry lens,” Sabrina said, backpedaling and wishing she hadn’t brought up such a sensitive subject. “You don’t really see a person. It’s dangerous to both the person who holds it and the person b
eing misperceived.”
“Dangerous, yes,” Obaa said as she rose and began to clear the dishes from the table. “But there are so many ways to be blind.” She sent Kaz a slicing look. He lowered his gaze and stared down at the teacup in his hands.
Whatever hung between Kaz and his grandmother, Sabrina couldn’t guess at. But there was power there. A power as foreign as the lunch she’d just shared with them.
Chapter Eleven
After lunch Kaz excused himself and went off to tend to orchard chores. The work needed to be done and Sabrina needed to rest. And he needed to get his head back on straight. Just being around Sabrina shot a disorienting spin into his usually ordered world. After several hours his grandmother brought him a bento in the field.
He opened the first container and lifted a piece of smoked fish to his lips.
“See to your friend, Kazi-san. She’s been reading, pacing. I don’t like it. She has the signs of inen,” she said, using the old word for possession by a hungry ghost.
“I’ll be in.”
“The inen will demand payment,” she said as she walked away.
Hungry ghosts.
Just what he needed.
When Kaz returned to the house, it was late. Both his grandmother and Sabrina had gone up to bed. He shuffled the tax papers, but thoughts of Sabrina toyed at the edges of his awareness, like wolves wanting to come in and feed. He shouldn’t have kissed her. But he’d be lying if he told himself he wasn’t glad he had.
He spread the papers in front of him and opened a file on the computer. Hurling fastballs was a hell of a lot more satisfying than pushing papers. And no matter what column he put the numbers in, they weren’t going to add up to the farm being in the black.
After two grueling hours he was satisfied with the report. Their accountant could prepare the tax forms and send them in. He stretched his arms over his head, releasing some of his tension. Then he grabbed his phone and checked his messages.
Two calls from Stacy, calls he’d return later. Seeing her again had been the worst sort of shock. He’d hoped to have seen her looking strong and healthy, then he wouldn’t have had to worry about her, worry that she was back with the wrong crowd or back on drugs. Whatever she wanted from him, now was no time to step onto any kind of path with her. It’d taken years to close the wound that loving and losing her had opened. Years to come to terms with the fact that her family had considered him below their status.
Everyone knew that her father had sent her away to prevent Kaz and her from becoming too serious as a couple. Her father wanted better prospects for his daughter than what a Japanese-American farmer or a minor league baseball player could offer. He’d pulled out all the stops to separate Kaz and Stacy. He’d sent her off to boarding school and then to some sort of program in Europe. And the separation had worked.
But seeing her with Martin had disturbed him more than he wanted to admit. And Ortega’s presence that night had ratcheted up his unease. Stacy had a history of meth addiction; she’d had a drug problem when they’d dated. A problem he might’ve been able to encourage her to overcome.
He could only hope that she’d stayed clean since she’d left and that being back wouldn’t sink her into old habits.
Then he listened to a message from one of the guys who’d been called up to spring training from the Triple-A team, a left fielder. He’d face the same challenge Kaz would in two weeks.
He checked his calendar. Not two weeks. Nine days.
The messages ended. There was no call from his agent.
Giants’ management was savvy. They’d wait to see what he brought to the mound before making any offer. He’d have done the same.
A shuffling sound on the graveled path just beyond the double doors put Kaz’s body on alert.
He opened the doors and peered out into the back garden.
Nothing.
He listened a moment, but heard nothing else. He returned to the desk.
Finding the remnants of the meth lab had put him on edge. Crime in the Valley had shot up in the past three years. Crimes that farmers weren’t used to or ready for in any way. He’d done some research and discovered that tweakers stole and then sold anything they could get their hands on to buy a fix. Some meth addicts started labs like the one he’d discovered to make their own.
Kaz hadn’t mentioned finding the site to his grandmother; she had enough to deal with while his parents and brother were away. When she’d chosen not to go with them, Kaz had questioned her. Her friends were dead, she’d said. And going to Japan would just stir unhappy memories. But he suspected she’d known he’d need help. If she hadn’t cooked and tended to the garden, he’d have eaten crackers and noodles for three solid weeks. Someday he really would have to learn to cook.
The shuffling sounded again, louder.
He grabbed a bat from beside the desk and ran outside. A figure moved near the hedged roses. He tightened his fingers on the bat, raised it and circled the hedge from the opposite side. A bat wouldn’t do much against a gun, not in the dark. He lunged toward the figure and the person turned. It took all his force to keep the bat from coming down on Sabrina’s head.
“What the hell are you doing out here?”
She didn’t react, didn’t look startled. And then he realized she wasn’t awake.
He’d heard of people walking in their sleep, but had never seen a sleepwalker in action. His mind raced, sorting through what he could remember. Abruptly waking a sleepwalker could be dangerous—or was that just an old wives’ tale? He didn’t want to traumatize her, but if his shout hadn’t awakened her, what would?
He dropped the bat to the ground and put his hands on her arms.
“Sabrina,” he said gently, hoping that hearing her name might wake her.
“There you are, Kaz. I was wondering where you were.”
Relief swept him. She was awake; he didn’t need to worry about startling her.
“They’re chasing me,” she said.
He heard a faint singsong in her voice.
“I need your help. They want my body. They want to live in my body.”
His relief hardened into alarm. She was definitely not awake, but talking in her sleep. Yet her eyes were wide open. It appeared that she could see him, but as he bent closer, he saw a faint glaze in her eyes.
“I’m here, Sabrina.”
He took her by the arm, turned her toward the doors. She stopped, planted her feet.
“I knew you would be. But we have no time, Kaz. It’s over. They’ve already planted the seed in me. I’m dying, Kaz.”
“No, you’re safe. I’m here.”
“But you have no power. It’s over,” she repeated.
She lifted her arms and wrapped her hands around his neck. He resisted as she tried to pull him to her. A sad look came to her face.
“This is the only way, Kaz. They said so. A kiss. A kiss can free me.”
If he hadn’t been sure she was asleep, the situation might’ve been comical.
“Kiss me. It’s the only way.” She pulled his lips to hers.
He tried not to sink into the slow, mesmerizing kiss, not to be aroused by the delicious, sensual taste of her, not to be carried away by the slamming force of desire that ripped through him. But his lips and his body had minds of their own. Her hands roamed down his torso—and landed on the erection he couldn’t hold in check. Through the fabric of his jeans, she ran her hand down his shaft and then up, deepening her kiss and moaning softly against his lips. When she reached the throbbing tip and pressed her palm against it, he couldn’t suppress a groan.
“This is it, Kaz,” she murmured against his lips. “Touch me. Break their spell.” She rolled a finger across the tip of his shaft. “Mmmm,” she moaned. “It’s breaking. I feel the seed dissolving. You’re saving my life.”
Though pleasure rocked through him and he would’ve liked nothing better than to lay her down on the grass and have her, that wasn’t right, not right in any way. It took eve
ry bit of control he had to draw her hand away.
“Sabrina—”
She reached for him again and smothered his next words with her warm, amazing lips.
For a moment he savored the feel of her body against his, her lush breasts pressing against his chest, her hand stroking him, but he had to end the encounter and end it now. Still, he wanted to remember the feel of her. The heat of her.
“Sabrina.”
He pulled her arm from where it was wrapped around his neck and then took both her hands in his. “Will you come with me? To the bedroom?”
She nodded.
He guided her through the house, amazed that she could navigate so assuredly while fast asleep. The whole damn event amazed him. And he tried to ignore that the thin nightgown she wore did nothing to hide the curves of her body. If she’d been naked, the sight couldn’t have been any more erotic.
When they reached her bedroom, he pulled back the covers on the bed.
“Get in, Sabrina. They can’t reach you if you’re under the covers.”
“But they can, Kaz. You don’t know them. They’ll plant another one, another seed. They’re desperate. They need us for life.” She took his hand. “Stay with me. Please stay with me. They can’t harm me if you’re with me.”
The situation was beyond absurd. He considered clapping his hands or shouting to jolt her awake, but his grandmother’s room was two doors down. He didn’t relish explaining what he was doing in the guest room with Sabrina at midnight.
She held up the covers and motioned for him to join her. He kicked off his shoes and crawled in beside her. She frowned. “Too many clothes. Too many layers. You have to take them off.”
“Sabrina, I doubt that it matters. I’m here, aren’t I?” He said it smoothly, gently. Who knew what deeper drama the dream might prompt if he did something that jarred her?
“Their rules are very specific.”
She knelt on the bed and pulled her nightgown over her head and tossed it to the floor. He sucked in a breath. He’d been wrong—naked, her body was beyond beautiful. He had no word for the exquisite way her breasts curved, round and perfect, or for the gentle slope of her hips. He lowered his eyes to the dark triangle of hair between her thighs and willed himself not to come just looking at her.
