by Maura Seger
His explanation only worsened Erin's dismay. Her vivid memories of the many young men she had seen die despite their desperate struggles to hold on to life made suicide seem a particularly obscene act. She could not hide her repugnance as she said, "You sound as though you approve of men killing themselves."
"No, I do not. But if I have learned anything in Japan, it is that making too swift value judgments about other people's way of life is usually an expression of bigotry. Bushido has worked well for hundreds, perhaps thousands of years. It is well worth trying to understand."
His obvious sincerity softened her outrage. More gently she asked, "But isn't it also extremely difficult to ever reach past the surface and achieve even the slightest grasp of what is really going on underneath? I've been in Japan only a few days, yet already I feel as though I could easily spend the rest of my life trying to get to know these people."
Storm shot her an assessing glance. "Are you saying you would consider staying here?"
"Why, no . . . that is, I can't stay, even if I did want to. My business is in the States."
"I thought all that was left were your two ships?"
"Yes, but once I get them back, I'll need to set up an office somewhere, perhaps in San Francisco." Aware that he might easily belittle her aspirations, she said stiffly, "You may as well know that I intend to stay in the Japan trade. Whatever the difficulties, it provides the best opportunity for me."
"I don't dispute that," Storm informed her mildly. "But why do you automatically presume you have to be based somewhere like San Francisco? You can run such a venture just as successfully from this end. I do."
"It's different for you." Unwilling to admit the problems she had encountered with the merchants, she saw no reason to elaborate. But Storm understood her all too clearly.
"Perhaps I should have warned you about how Japanese men regard doing business with a woman. But I was sure you wouldn't believe me. It seemed to be a lesson you had to learn on your own."
The knowledge that he was fully aware of her predicament strained Erin's already overburdened temper. Angrily she snapped, "Dare I hope there is nothing more you believe I need to be taught?"
"That depends," he muttered, his bronzed hands tightening on the reins.
Erin's eyes were drawn to them irresistibly. All too clearly she remembered how they felt moving over her body. Hardly aware that she did so, she asked, "On what?"
His mouth thinned to a sardonic line. "On how well you please me, of course." As she turned away quickly to hide her embarrassment, he continued remorselessly, "I may as well warn you right now that you are up against considerable competition. Japanese women are raised from birth to serve men in all possible ways."
Against her better judgment, Erin snapped, "I suppose that is one custom you do not hesitate to approve?"
"Hardly. What could be more delightful than for a man to find himself in a country where every female is devoted to fulfilling his slightest whim? Frankly, my dear, you couldn't have landed in a better place. From what I can see, your education in that area has been sadly lacking."
Long years of self-discipline enabled her to bite back the sharp retort that trembled on the tip of her tongue. But it could not wipe out her increasing nervousness as they neared Storm's home. The full implications of what she was doing were only just beginning to sink in.
Once she entered that house, she would be subject to anything he might choose to demand. Her ignorance about precisely what went on between a man and a woman behind bedroom doors did not prevent her from realizing that she could be badly hurt. Not only her body, but her heart and spirit could suffer enormously.
Her throat tightened painfully as she fought against an almost overwhelming upsurge of fear. Faith in her own instincts made her believe that Storm was not truly capable of harming her. But what if she were wrong? What if the romantic fantasies she had already resolved to disregard were affecting her more than she thought?
Glancing up at him, she was surprised to find his eyes focused on her narrowly. "It's a bit late to have second thoughts."
"I wasn't…"
He laughed mockingly. "Of course you were. Whatever else you may be, you are hardly stupid. However, just to be sure there are no misunderstandings between us, let me spell out the situation. Once you step inside my home, I will take that to mean that you are in full agreement with our arrangement and I will behave accordingly. You will have no opportunity to change your mind or to try to back out."
As Erin tried to interrupt to insist she had no such intention of doing either, he ignored her and went on relentlessly, "Nor will there be anyone to rescue you. If you have any ideas about appealing to Ned for help, forget them. He is far too aware of the need to maintain good relations with the business community to risk my anger. Besides, by coming here of your own free will, you have provided him and anyone else you might appeal to with a built-in excuse for refusing you aid."
His gaze swept over her lingeringly, taking in every delicate line and gentle curve of her slender body. "The prideful belle of Boston is about to become a fallen woman. I wonder how you will react to the experience."
Prideful? Was that how he thought of her? Perhaps he was right. Certainly it was pride that enabled her to face him expressionlessly, all her fears hidden behind a frozen mask.
"I daresay I will react as well as I have to other grim experiences in recent years. Nothing you can do can be worse than the sight of a young man bleeding to death from severed limbs, or the stench of decay so thick as to be suffocating, or the sounds of dozens of soldiers screaming in agony until their throats were raw."
She hadn't meant to reveal so much of what her life had been like during the war, but when she had done so, she was glad. Whatever else she might have accomplished, she had at least managed to silence Storm. Beneath his tan, his skin was oddly gray. She did not dare look at him closely enough to try to read the expression in his eyes, but she suspected his callous bravado was at least dented. He did not attempt to provoke her further as they completed the journey through Yokohama and arrived in front of his home.
Chapter Eight
Erin studied the house curiously. The day before, she had been too upset to take in much about it. Now she made up for that with a careful appraisal that missed little of the subtle interworkings of nature and craftsmanship. Once past the perimeter wall, it was immediately apparent that what appeared bare and uninviting from the roadway was in fact a refuge of remarkable beauty and comfort.
Given as she was to preferring uncluttered spaces and simple designs, Erin had no difficulty appreciating the clean lines and discreet ornamentation of the house. It did not disturb her that two of the four outside walls were nothing more than sliding screens built around a dark wood frame. The idea of being able to open the entire residence to the sun and air delighted her. Nor did the unpainted plank walls of the remaining two sides look unappealing. She recognized how the subtle weathering of the wood had created patterns no artist could ever duplicate.
Small, enchanting details were revealed wherever she chose to look. The lintel above the entrance was made from a twisted, bleached piece of driftwood. Its austere lines were echoed in the brush strokes of a water-color decorating the sliding door of an alcove just off the vestibule.
On a low lacquer table, an earthenware jug held a single sprig of maple leaves, their glowing russet tone adding warmth to the paleness of the straw mats covering the floor and the oiled paper squares set in the ceiling to form a skylight.
The disparaging comments of Westerners who found Japanese architecture uncomfortably austere came back to her as she marveled at her own response. Far from being put off by the almost total absence of furniture or other ornamentation, she found the house soothing and peaceful. It was a refuge from the cluttered morass of day-to-day existence. No wonder Storm had chosen to live here rather than in the crowded Western enclave.
She was about to say as much when the sudden appearance of a woman hur
rying from the back of the house cut her off. Erin watched with growing dismay as the kimono-clad beauty smiled shyly before bowing first to Storm and then to her.
In softly accented English, she said, "I am so sorry I was not here to receive you. Please forgive me."
"That's quite all right," Storm assured her, his voice gentle as he eyed the woman's bent head. "Odetsu, this is Erin Conroy. She will be staying here."
Turning to Erin, he said, "Odetsu is my housekeeper and easily the most valued member of my staff. She never raises her voice - above a whisper, but she could give any master sergeant lessons on getting things done."
Though he spoke humorously, his manner made it clear that he held the young Japanese woman in high esteem. Erin could hardly blame him. With her delicate features set off by huge almond-shaped eyes, high cheekbones and a full mouth, her honeyed skin and her sleek black hair coiled at the nape of her slender neck, Odetsu was breathtakingly beautiful.
Her ivory kimono embroidered with cloud, wave and shell motifs and secured by a scarlet sash emphasized the perfection of her slender form. Every motion she made was graceful, as though she were a flawless blossom blown gently by the wind. Her air of deference and self-effacement was unmistakable, as was her genuine concern that her employer might be put out by her failure to be at the door waiting to greet him.
"Please," she murmured as she bowed yet again, "allow me to welcome your guest." Addressing Erin directly for the first time, she added softly, "If you like, I will show you to your room now."
"I'm sure Miss Conroy is anxious to get settled," Storm said mockingly. "I will leave her in your capable hands. See to it that she is ready to dine with me tonight."
Without another look at his outraged guest, who was having a more-than-difficult time coping with such blatantly male pomposity, he strode off. The deep-throated chuckle that floated behind him only added to her disgust. Erin's hands were tightly clenched and her sky-blue eyes glittered dangerously as she snapped, "It isn't necessary for you to see to anything, Odetsu. Just tell me where my room is and I will take care of myself."
If she had struck the girl, she could not have provoked a more shocked response. Odetsu's vermilion-hued mouth trembled as her eyes took on the look of a wounded doe's.
"Please," she whispered, "I have done something to give offense?"
Baffled by such an extreme reaction, Erin shook her head. "No, of course not. I only meant that there is no need for you to worry about me, when I'm sure you have plenty to do elsewhere."
"That does not matter," Odetsu said with gentle firmness. "Davin-san said to look after you. Therefore, I will do so."
Erin eyed her uncomfortably, suspecting that if Davin-san told her to walk through fire, she would promptly immolate herself. Such slavish devotion was disconcerting under the best of circumstances. When it came from an undeniably beautiful woman and was directed toward a man whom Erin could not help but want for herself, she was hard pressed to deal with it.
"I really don't need any help," she began tentatively, "but if you insist. . ."
Odetsu did. Beneath her gentle, serene demeanor lurked a streak of stubbornness not even Erin could overcome. Within minutes she had guided her to the spacious chamber she would occupy, seen to the unpacking of her trunk, ordered a bath prepared and sent a bashful serving girl for a tray of green tea and rice cakes.
Delighted by her room, which like the rest of the house was classically Japanese in style, Erin would have been perfectly content to be left alone to get acquainted with her new surroundings. But that was not to be the case. To her dismay, Odetsu gently but firmly insisted on helping her off with her clothes.
As she did so, she kept up a soothing stream of questions about Western fashion, which had the effect of distracting Erin so thoroughly that she barely had time to note that every scrap of covering was removed from her before she was wrapped in an exquisitely soft silk robe and led over to a low table on which the tray of refreshments had been set.
Following Odetsu's lead, she settled down on her knees before it, finding the position uncomfortable but tolerable. As she sipped the tea and nibbled politely at a cake, the Japanese woman took down her hair and gently brushed it free of tangles.
"How beautiful," Odetsu said with apparent sincerity. "I have never seen hair like this. It is almost as dark as mine, but it catches the light in a different way." She studied it for a moment before declaring, "Davin-san is right. You should wear it down so that it flows over your skin like silk."
Erin swallowed the sip of tea she had just taken too hastily and coughed. She did not doubt for a moment that Storm was perfectly capable of speaking of her in such intimate terms. But the thought of what else he might have said to his housekeeper made her flush.
Was Odetsu aware of her true reason for being in his home? If so, it was difficult to understand why she was being so friendly and kind. Even the best-trained Western housekeeper would look down her nose at a woman in Erin's position.
But if Odetsu saw anything the least untoward about it, she hid it well. Against her will, Erin found herself relaxing as the tensions of the last few days slid away. When her bath was ready, she went into it unhesitantly.
The separate room paneled in aromatic cedar planks and dominated by a huge, steaming tub was only one more delightful discovery in a house that seemed to possess an endless supply of them.
Guided by Odetsu, Erin washed thoroughly before entering the water. The extremely high temperature made her gasp, but she found herself quickly adjusting to it. Muscles she hadn't even realized were clenched relaxed and became fluid as she leaned back against the rim of the tub, letting her body float languidly. Breathing deeply, she savored the fragrance of jasmine incense burning nearby.
She was dimly aware of Odetsu moving about the chamber, keeping a close eye on her to make sure she didn't remain too long in the extremely hot water. But the sounds she made were carefully muted and did not intrude on Erin's thoughts. Reluctant though she was to do anything to disturb her unexpected serenity, she could not help but consider what lay ahead in the next few hours.
The contradictory feelings Storm never failed to set off in her were once again at work. The mere thought of being made a woman by him was enough to make her tremble with excitement even as she had to fight against the sense of panic that threatened to rob her of all courage.
Briefly she wondered if it would do any good to ask him for more time. Everything she knew about him convinced her it would not. Once set on a course, he was not likely to be deterred for any reason. Nor could she honestly claim to want any delay. Each slowly passing moment was enough of a torment without wishing to extend them further.
At last Odetsu came to fetch her from the tub, gently toweling her dry as she exclaimed with concern over the bruises and abrasions left from her encounter with the ronin. At her insistence, Erin allowed a soothing salve to be rubbed into her limbs before she was dressed.
As she stood naked in the center of the room, giggling servant girls appeared with a magnificent silk robe in shades of violet darkening to mauve at the hem. The color brought out the delicate rose hue of her complexion and gave an added sparkle to crystal blue eyes already bright with emotions she did not care to identify.
Although she had long ago given up the habit of lacing, she was still a bit dismayed to realize that the robe was meant to be slipped on without benefit of undergarments. Yet despite this, it proved a perfect fit.
The scoop neckline revealed the high curve of her breasts, but was not so low-cut as to make her uncomfortable. The wide sleeves fell gracefully down her slender arms to conceal her hands. A broad sash emphasized the narrow span of her waist and the ripe curve of her hips.
It was only when she moved that Erin recognized the full attraction of the garment. Slit up the front, it opened with each step, revealing a creamy expanse of slender legs clear to her thighs.
Unable to still her protest, she said, "I'd prefer to wear something else. Some
of my own clothes, or perhaps a kimono like yours."
Odetsu shook her head firmly. "Davin-san does not like Western styles in his home, and my clothes would not be comfortable for you."
Erin could hardly argue with that. Though Odetsu's garments were beautifully made, they so tightly restricted her movements as to leave her all but hobbled. Having heard of the Chinese custom of binding women's feet, she had to give the Japanese credit for going one better and tethering the entire body.
The sash Odetsu called an obi was so wide that it encased almost her entire torso in a rigid tube of material. As though that were not enough, the folds of the kimono itself were pulled so snugly that they would not open above the knees.
When she moved, she looked for all the world as though her legs were bound together, as in effect they were. Even her soft white socks that took the place of shoes in the house looked uncomfortable, with the toes rigidly separated in a way nature had surely not intended.
By comparison, Erin's robe left her utterly unfettered and free. She could not help but note the contrast and wonder what, if anything, it was meant to convey.
Storm had praised Japanese women, yet he seemed to have no wish to force her into their mold. She could only hope he would continue to be as tolerant as the last barriers between them vanished and the emotions shaped by eight tumultuous years were finally released.
Chapter Nine
Erin had never before considered it an act of courage to walk down a hallway and enter a room. But as she followed Odetsu through the house to where Storm awaited her, she needed all her determination to put one foot in front of the other.
She wasn't helped by the fact that her robe kept gapping open with each step, until she was driven to hold it shut with a tightly clenched hand. Even then the thinness of the fabric and the way it clung to her curves added to her spiraling nervousness.
