Fire and Ice - Anne Stuart [70]
His hair had come loose from its long braid. His face was wet, too, but she couldn’t believe they were tears. He smiled at her then, a smile of such devastating sweetness that she was lost.
“Sleep now, Ji-chan,” he whispered. “We’ve only got a few hours left before they come for us. Rest now.”
She wanted more, but she was too drained to say a word. Any more would probably kill her, she thought, smiling to herself as she pressed her face against his sweat-slick shoulder.
“What’s so funny?” he asked in an absent voice. His long hair was covering them both, and she felt him drape some of it over her shoulders, like some sort of powerful bond, tying them together.
“I’m happy,” she said.
“You’re probably going to die tomorrow and you’re happy? I’m not that good.”
“Yes, you are. And I’m not going to die. You’re going to rescue me, as you’ve done so many times already, and we’re going to live happily ever after.”
She almost thought she felt his body freeze, but she ignored it, drifting into a blissful, dreamless sleep, held tight in his arms.
Holy motherfucker. What the hell had he done? Just when he thought he’d driven her away forever, he’d managed to sabotage himself. It was going to take nothing short of a bomb to get away from her now. Happily ever after? There was no such thing.
He didn’t want her. He didn’t want to care about her, he didn’t want to get so turned on by her amateur and earth-shattering efforts at sex. He wanted his life the way he had it, with no room for a clinging gaijin.
He could tell himself he had a good reason for making such a terrible mistake, fucking her again. They were facing death in the morning; it was a natural human response to try to deny it. But the problem was, he had no intention of dying. Or of letting her be killed, no matter how convenient that suddenly seemed. He’d just used it as an excuse to get inside her.
In the cold light of day she’d know there was no such thing as a happy ending.
And if she didn’t, he’d have to show her just how cruel the world could be to innocents who still believed in fairy tales. Whether he liked it or not.
16
She’d looked so peaceful when he yanked her out of her deep sleep. She was curled up next to him like a cat in the sunshine with a stomach full of cream when he leapt off the cot, dragging her with him.
“Someone’s coming,” he said in a low voice. “Get in the box.”
“The hell I will.”
He was shoving her discarded clothes at her, what there were of them, at the same time pulling on his pants. “Don’t make me hurt you,” he said, his voice flat and cold.
“I don’t hear anything.”
“I do.” He grabbed her arm and hauled her over to the pile of boxes on the right, tipping one up. It was big enough, and empty, and she yanked on her pants as he shoved her under it, buttoning up her shirt as he dropped it down over her.
“Don’t make a sound,” he said in something close to a growl.
For once she did as he told her to. He moved silently to the door, waiting behind it. All he had was the element of surprise, and he probably wouldn’t have that. They’d be smart enough to guess that he’d try something. Most of the men who worked for his grandfather were smart, though following someone like Hitomi and betraying the old man was not only stupid but dishonorable.
Someone was outside the door, trying his best to be quiet. There was only the one dim lightbulb, creating enough shadows in the cavernous room to give him a fighting chance, and he moved back. He could hear the lock click open—whoever was outside was picking the lock, not using a key. Which meant they were acting outside of orders, which could be either a bad thing or a good one.
He flattened his body against the wall as the door opened, waiting, soundless, breathless, until the very last second before slamming it hard against whoever was sneaking in.
The door hit solid rock, slamming him back against the wall. A moment later he was