“I feel like I’m entering a sanctuary,” she told him as she preceded him up the steps.
“Now you understand why I come here.”
“I understand why you’re in great shape,” she said, lifting her chin at the dozens of steps that lay before them. “This is all part of the hike to get to that peak, right?”
He laughed softly. “Keep going, Helen.”
She groaned, but did as he bid. At least she was wearing her tennies. If she’d had to ascend these stairs wearing her typical high-heeled pumps, she’d be lame by the time she reached the top.
Her breath was short by the time the steps leveled out in a clearing that fronted the beautiful wood house. A very modern-looking house. “Well.” She stopped, smoothing her hand down her ponytail. “I guess I don’t have to ask if this house has been in your family for generations.”
“I built it after my wife died.”
So, his arranged wife had never been inside the walls. She didn’t like the relief that she felt over that particular fact. It seemed petty and small.
But she still felt it.
“And you found some peace here?”
“I always find peace here.” He took her hand and led her toward the house.
The front sliding door was unlocked and opened at his touch. “There is no need for security here. The only way here is through the village.”
“Who would notice any strangers, I suppose. What about by air?”
“There is no place to land. An intruder would have to rappel or parachute from the craft, which takes at least a few minutes. They would still be noticed. Besides, nothing here is related to TAKA. A person who thinks otherwise will be very disappointed.”
The exterior of the house was far more updated than that of his mother’s, but it still possessed a similar vestibule where he toed off his shoes before stepping up onto the elevated main floor. “I will get you slippers,” he told her, and disappeared beyond a short hall.
She removed her shoes and stepped up onto the wood floor, looking around her curiously as she followed the direction he’d taken. The first room she came to was everything that she’d expected his mother’s living area to be. Reed-mat floors. One low, central table. Brilliant red cushions stacked against a wall.
Though there was a wealth of deep, gleaming wood, the sense of the place was still airy and light. Many tall, narrow windows closely placed together afforded an expansive view of the village below.
“It is not what you expected.” He came up behind her and slid his arm around her waist.
She closed her eyes for a moment against the rush of desire that hit her. “You’re never quite what I expect, Mori.”
“That is good in business. Is it good in personal matters?”
She threaded her fingers through his where they rested on her hip. “In this personal matter, I’d have to admit I have no complaints.” She pressed her head back against his shoulder, looking up at him.
She felt like Alice, having fallen down the rabbit hole, so odd did it seem to be there with him when just that morning they’d been at the bargaining table. “I…I haven’t felt like this before, Mori.”
“This?” His eyes were hooded, his voice low.
She didn’t know how to answer. “This passion,” she finally settled on. “I know it probably seems unlikely at my age, but—” She broke off when he touched his forefinger to the corner of her mouth.
“Turn your frown upside down,” he murmured with a smile. “Does passion have an age limit?”
She turned in his arms, finally pushing out all other thoughts but of him. She looped her hands around his neck. “I certainly hope it doesn’t.”
“My grandfather was ninety-two when he died. He told me once that the secret to his long life was not his harmony with the world around him, but the warmth of the woman who lay beside him every night.”
“Your grandfather really told you that?”
“My grandfather taught me what matters in life,” he murmured. His mouth touched the point of her chin, then the spot directly below her ear.
She dropped the slippers he’d handed her. “Mori?”
He tugged on her ponytail, tilting her head back. “Yes?”
“We don’t have to wait until nighttime, do we?”
“What do you think?” She felt the smile on his face when he closed his mouth over hers.
Then he lifted her right in his arms and carried her to his room.
Reality, Helen thought hazily, as he placed her on his low bed, was sometimes even better than the dream.
Chapter Thirteen
Mori hadn’t been joking about watching the sun rise.
Helen shivered as she pulled on the thick ivory fisherman’s sweater he tossed across the bed to her. A small table lamp was lit in the dark room. The only other illumination came from the glow of the spectacular fish tank built into one of the walls. Mori was already dressed in jeans and a dark blue sweater and the house smelled of coffee.
The scent had her salivating, and the sight of him had her fumbling with the sweater as she dragged it over her head. “I thought you didn’t drink coffee,” she said when her head poked through.
“You do.”
Her hands tightened on the jeans she was pulling out of her overnight bag. He’d fixed coffee just for her?
“Smells wonderful,” she told him huskily.
He smiled a little and headed back out of the room. “Hurry. We have only forty-five minutes before sunrise. Then we will return and cook breakfast.”
Helen dragged on her jeans, looking somewhat longingly at the comfortable bed. She didn’t doubt the beauty of the sunrise Mori was determined to share, but couldn’t he find something interesting to occupy himself with if they remained in bed?
He’d certainly had no trouble in that regard throughout the night.
When she was finished dressing, she quickly cleaned her face and teeth and dragged her hair into a ponytail. Then she headed out to the kitchen that—contrary to the traditional nature of his living area—provided every convenience known to man.
He stuck a stainless steel travel cup in her hand and aimed her toward the genkan where he crouched at her feet. “Lift.”
Pouring the coffee down her throat, she lifted her foot. He stuffed it into her tennis shoe and tied it and repeated the process.
She wanted to giggle, but squelched it in her coffee mug.
He pulled on his own shoes, much sturdier looking than her pristinely white court shoes, and then nudged her out the door.
The air was cold enough to make her suck in her breath, and wish she hadn’t. “Mori, wouldn’t you rather be in that wonderful, soft bed of yours, all warm and cozy?”
He closed his hand over her shoulder and flipped on a small flashlight, shining the beam over the ground in front of her. “It will be worth it.”
She hugged her arms closer, hunching over the coffee mug. “Better be,” she mumbled. “I don’t get up at this hour for just anyone, you know.”
“Then I am deeply honored.” His tone, however, told her he was deeply amused. “You will be glad for the climb, Helen. Never will you have a better morning than after you have seen these mountains.”
They walked beside each other for several minutes, then Mori took the cup from her hands and replaced it with the flashlight. “Go first.”
She looked longingly at the gleam of stainless steel. It still had a healthy measure of steaming hot coffee inside. “How about if you let me carry my coffee and I follow you?”
“You do nothing without a debate, do you?”
“Well.” She tilted her head and smiled slightly. “There are a few things with you I haven’t debated.”
He laughed softly. “True. I am most aware of that. Now, go before me.”
“Why?” She swept the beam of the flashlight ahead of her, seeing what—to her—looked like a straight, upward shot. “So if I fall on my rear end, you can catch me?”
“Perhaps I will ju
st be enjoying the view.”
She choked back a surprised snort. “Morito Taka, you have a naughty mind.”
“You have a delightful derriere that inspires me. Now, move. There is a path. You will see when you start heading upward.”
Biting her tongue to keep from laughing, she went ahead of him. “I thought we’d been heading upward, all along.” But the climb wasn’t quite as difficult as she’d feared. The path was visible. Just. It took most of concentration not to stray.
Around them, she could smell the biting scent of vegetation and earth, and heard the occasional rustle of something she figured she was glad not to see.
Mori surely heard it, too, and he wasn’t the least concerned so she took her cue from him.
The higher they went, the more her thighs felt the pull of the ascent, the more grateful she was for the cool air, since it wasn’t long before she felt herself beginning to sweat. Clearly, her Pilates class wasn’t going to cut the mustard if she were to make this climb very often.
The thought sneaked in.
Her foot dragged over the loose dirt. The beam of light bobbled in her hand.
Behind her, Mori’s hand planted itself on the small of her back, steadying her. “Are you all right?”
Where did she get the nerve to begin thinking that this little diversion was likely to be repeated?
And why did she feel any sort of regret at the notion that it wouldn’t be?
“Helen?”
“Just swell,” she puffed.
“We are nearly there,” he assured.
She gestured with the flashlight. It was still pitch dark beyond the glow of yellow light. “I’ll have to take your word for that, too.”
“Do you think I would send you into harm?”
“No, but I think you might be sending me along the garden path,” she returned drily.
His hand on her back urged her gently forward. “The sun will be up soon. The path will even out and widen a few yards ahead.”
“Promises, promises.” She forced her tired legs into motion. “I feel I must tell you that I am quite certain we have been climbing for more than forty-five minutes.”
He chuckled. “Try about twenty-five minutes.”
“You’re slaughtering my ego here, Mori.”
“My humble apologies.” He stepped beside her, when the path widened, just as he’d promised. “I will trade you again.” He took the flashlight and handed her the coffee mug.
When she took a sip, it was as piping hot as it had been before they’d set out. She let out an appreciative sigh. “How do you know how to make such good coffee when you don’t even drink it?”
“I know how to operate a good coffee machine.” He played the flashlight ahead of them. “We have one more little climb.”
Just hearing the word climb made her thighs protest. “Seriously?”
“Come.” He took her arm and led her forward. When he stopped, he let go of her and easily stepped up onto a high boulder. “Give me your hand.”
The sky was just beginning to lighten. She looked up at the shadow of his outstretched hand and settled her palm on his.
The realization dawned on her as abruptly as a sliver of light began peaking over the horizon that she hadn’t even realized she was facing.
She was in love with him.
“Helen?”
Shaking herself, telling herself not to be utterly ridiculous, she stepped up, feeling him nearly take her weight as he lifted her to the top of the boulder.
He led her forward again off the boulder and onto hard-packed earth, and then stopped. “We can sit here.”
She nodded and sat down when he did, her numb attention focused on the darkening band of scarlet color stretching out in front of them for as far as she could see.
He shifted around until he sat directly behind her, pulling her back against his chest. “Warm enough?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Was she out of her mind? George hadn’t even been gone a year yet. She couldn’t be in love with someone else.
Mori slid his arm around her waist, his hand flat against her belly through her thick sweater. “Now, you see why I brought you here?”
She made herself concentrate. The mountainside on which they sat faced away from the village. In the gradual lightening that bathed the view in cool, silvery light, she couldn’t see a single mark of human hand. She pressed her lips together for a moment. “Yes, I see. I’ve never been anywhere like it.” She balanced her mug on the ground beside them and folded her hands over his arm.
He closed his other arm around her, enclosing her in his warmth as the temperature seemed to drop. It was as if the energy of the emerging sun was sucking away at everything else.
His fingers threaded through hers. “You took off your wedding ring.”
“Yesterday.”
“I noticed at your hotel room.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
“Nor did you.”
Well, that was certainly true. She imagined the ring would still be sitting on the edge of the sink when they returned.
“Do you still think of yourself as married to him?”
“No. Yes.” She rubbed her head against his chin. “Sometimes. When I’m with his boys, I tend to.”
“When you are with me?”
That one was easy. “Not when I am with you.” She relaxed even more against his chest. She could feel the even cadence of his breathing, and realized hers was slowing to match his.
It struck her suddenly as incredibly arousing.
She bit the inside of her lip, sternly redirecting her attention to the horizon. An undulating stripe of yellow had joined the gleam of scarlet. “Have you photographed this?”
“Hai.” His voice was low, a soft rumble against her ear that sent heat coursing through her.
“Hai, indeed,” she murmured.
They were entirely alone. They could do anything they wanted, there on the mountainside.
She lowered her hands onto his thighs and unfolded her crossed legs, stretching them out, as his were. The tips of her tennis shoes barely reached his ankles.
Her fingertips flexed against his unyielding thighs. “Who else have you brought here?”
He laughed softly and pressed his lips against the side of her neck. “Only Kimiko,” he assured. “We take a slightly different path and watch the sun set. She does not wish to be roused from her bed at an hour such as this.”
“Well.” Her head tilted back, giving him better access to her throat. “I am beginning to see the—” she let out her breath when he kissed her neck again “—the, um, the appeal of rousing this early.”
“I thought you might.” His breath was warm against her ear when he spoke. “Are you cold?”
“Not at the moment.” She reached up and caught her hand behind his neck, finding his mouth with hers.
His hands tightened on her and the satisfied sound he made rumbled along her spine as he briefly deepened the kiss. Too briefly.
“Open your eyes and watch the sunrise, Helen.”
She dragged her eyes open. The silver cast had turned golden. The mountains around them were no longer mere shadows, but cool, purple peaks. A curve of the sun was nudging its head above a horizon that writhed with fiery tendrils of orange and pink and red.
This was seduction of the headiest kind, she decided. And as steadily as the sun began its rise, the emotion inside Helen gathered together. She was in love with Mori.
“See the sun? That is what it feels like when I hold you.”
“You don’t have to say things like that, Mori.” Her throat was tight.
“I think I do.” Not until he wiped his thumb down her cheek did she realize that tears had been leaking from her eyes. “You are unhappy?”
The sun was up. The brilliant colors were fading away. She would never again look at a sunrise without thinking of Mori. She shook her head. “I’m very happy. You were right. It was a magnificent sight. Thank you for sharing it with me.”
“Forcing you to share it with me, you mean.”
She smiled slightly. “Force might be a bit strong. I was willing enough.”
He grinned. “When the coffee beckoned. Come.” He kissed her hard on the lips. “We will now go down and have breakfast. The finest you will ever taste.”
She pressed her palm against his cheek, slowing him for just a moment. “The finest you will ever taste,” she returned huskily. She wasn’t speaking of food.
The appreciative gleam that entered his deep brown eyes told her he was well aware of that fact.
And she was suddenly in a tearing hurry to get off the mountain and she scrambled inelegantly to her feet. “Come on. You were in a hurry to get up here. I’m in a hurry to get down there.”
He rose and there was nothing ungainly about his movement. “I do not hurry. I am a man of patience.”
“When you want to be,” she allowed, slipping her hands beneath his sweater and loving the way his hard abdomen jumped a little at her touch. “When it suits you. Other times, you’re like a freight train, charging through life.”
His eyebrows drew together, creating a fierce dark slash across his striking face. “I am more careful than a mindless train.”
She smiled. Flickered her fingers against his belly. He caught her fingers and she knew she’d found at least one secret where he was concerned.
The man was ticklish.
“Nobody said you were mindless, Mori.” She stepped close to him, until barely a breath separated them. “You are a man of action.” Her voice dropped. “Aren’t you?”
She felt the tension that filled his body and with a woman’s instinct, knew that he felt the heat streaking through her, as well.
His gaze focused on he lips. After a long moment—long enough that Helen considered the dwindling likelihood that they might even make it off the mountainside before her control deserted her—he took a step back.
Oddly enough, the heat inside her only increased.
“Lead the way.”
She swallowed. Picked up the coffee mug and headed back down the mountain, increasingly aware of his deliberate, sure steps behind her.
When they finally reached his house, they toed off their shoes. Mori wrapped his fingers around her wrist, starting to lead her through the kitchen, but she dragged her feet. “Too far,” she whispered at his look when she slipped off her sweater and shook out her hair.
Mergers & Matrimony Page 17
