Lorelei James - Bound

The gentle way he touched her hair as he spoke so nonchalantly about violence gave her a surprisingly intimate peek into this complex man. “Do you still fight?”

“Four years ago a Brazilian jujitsu practitioner publicly questioned my credentials and openly mocked me for claiming I’d studied in Japan and that I was part Japanese. Normally I don’t bother with martial arts politics, but when he brought it into my house? Making those claims in front of my students? I couldn’t let it slide.”

“Is that why you’ve got security at the front door?”

“Partially. He did just walk in with twenty of his students and disrupt my classes. I had no idea if they’d brought weapons, so I took preventive measures after that incident to provide better security for my students.”

“What happened? Was him showing up on your turf like he’d declared war?”

Ronin smiled. “He said he’d meet me anytime, anyplace, so I suggested a time and a place. He bragged near and far about the public beat-down he was about to dish out.”

“And?”

“I lost.”

Her mouth fell open. “Are you serious?”

“No. But telling you the truth will put me in a different light in your eyes, and I’m not ready for that. I’m liking the way you’re looking at me now, Amery.”

She blushed. “Tell me anyway.”

He kept absentmindedly running his fingers down that same section of hair. “I wiped the floor with him. He wanted it real—I gave him real. I broke his arm and his nose. I dislocated his shoulder. I cracked his ribs. All within five minutes.”

Amery fought a shiver. “Did he do any damage to you?”

Their eyes met. “He dislocated my finger and gave me a deep bruise on my hip.” He tugged on the end of her hair. “How did we get so far off topic?”

“It’s not off topic. It’s stuff I need to know if you and I are . . . ah, working together.”

He seemed amused that she’d kept her answer professional.

“I’ll work up some design ideas for the logo.”

“Perfect. But on the personal side of us working together, mark your calendar tomorrow night for the ‘hot chick getting hit on in a bar’ challenge.”

“Ronin—”

He held up his hand, forestalling her argument, and took his phone out of his pocket. “What’s your number?”

Amery recited the digits, watching him plug the numbers in. Then her phone buzzed with a text message.

“Now you have mine. You decide on the destination at the last minute so you know it’s not rigged.” Ronin scowled at his phone buzzing in his hand. “Excuse me, I need to take this.” He left the table and walked to the far edge of the balcony.

She stood and straightened her skirt. She picked up the helmet. Ronin’s conversation drifted to her—so odd to hear him speaking in Japanese.

That reiterated her misgivings. What did she really know about this man? Besides that he fired her blood? No doubt he embodied sexy, exotic, and mysterious—but she reminded herself his life was devoted to teaching the finer points of violence.

He returned. “I’m so sorry, but I will have to send you back to your office in a cab. Something came up that I need to deal with right away.”

She placed her hand on his chest. “Are you okay?”

Ronin dipped his head and brushed his cheek against hers. “Yes. But I appreciate your concern because that shows me you know this is more than just business between us.” He kept his hand on the middle of her back as they walked downstairs.

At the hostess stand he spoke to Michael and discreetly palmed him cash. He paused in the doorway and looked at Amery. He mouthed, Tomorrow, and then he was gone.

“IS this seat taken?”

Amery glanced up at the tall, lanky man with sandy brown hair. Cute in that geeky sort of way. “No. It’s open.”

“Great. Thanks.” He picked up the chair and carried it to his table of friends.

So much for him offering to buy her a drink.

But she’d suspected that’s how this hour-long social experiment would play out. She feigned interest in the TV in the corner, trying not to devour the bowl of snack mix placed in front of her.

This was a cool bar. Why had she walked by the place dozens of times but hadn’t stopped in? The vibe here was relaxed despite the upbeat music. Great ambience with the brightly colored pendant lights hanging from the high ceiling. Like in so many old warehouses in Lodo, the rafters had been left exposed, as had the brick walls. She’d checked out the scarred wide-planked oak as she’d walked in, wondering if she’d find similar flooring beneath the carpet in her loft.

As she’d prepped herself for a night at the meat market, she considered Ronin’s observation—maybe she hadn’t been looking in the right places to meet eligible men. She chatted with the same guys at the gym, but they’d never asked her out. No men attended her yoga classes. She’d smile at guys at the grocery store, or the bank, keeping it friendly, but it hadn’t made a difference. She went to the movies alone. She ate out by herself frequently and it didn’t bother her, but other patrons avoided making eye contact, pitying her as a single diner.

Amery admitted she’d fallen into a rut—relying on Emmylou and Chaz to entertain her. Molly had pulled into her shell completely after the attack and they hadn’t done anything together outside of work for ages. In recent months if her pals were busy, she’d stay home and watch movies or TV or read.

Nothing wrong with liking her own company . . . was there?

A man sidled up next to her and smiled. “Hey. I haven’t seen you in here before.”

“First time. I thought I’d swing in and have a drink.”

“If you’re thirsty I could buy the next one.”

“That’s sweet. Thank you, but I’m meeting a friend.”

His eyes filled with regret. “Shame. Enjoy.” He took off.

After that, Amery fended off advances from several other guys as she nursed her drink. If she hadn’t made plans with Ronin, she might’ve given her number to a couple of them.

Where was Ronin anyway?

Then she felt his eyes on her, even though she couldn’t see him. Calming her even as he assessed her. Thankfully this demonstration or whatever it was ended in ten minutes. She ordered another martini. As the clock wound down, she felt a tap on her shoulder. She faced the guy. He looked familiar.

“Amery? It’s Will Aberle. Do you remember me? I’m friends with Chaz.”

“Will! Of course I remember you. Chaz dragged us to that laser tag place last fall. We froze our butts off.”

“I haven’t seen Chaz for a while. How is he?”

“Good. He’s in a relationship now. Well, as much as Chaz can be in a relationship, which means—”

“He’s still on the prowl,” Will finished.

“God, don’t we sound like bitchy queens dissing on our friend?”

“That’s the problem with always being the straight man.”

She laughed. Will was funny and had the blond-haired, blue-eyed look Amery found so appealing. So why hadn’t she ever let him know she was available?

Because no matter how nice he seems, he reminds you of your ex.

“How’ve you been?” Will asked.

“I can’t complain. I’ve kept up with new business and haven’t lost much of my old business. What about you? You’re in insurance, right?”

“Yes, I’m in the actuary department, which sounds incredibly stuffy every time I say it.”

“So, is this your usual hangout?”

“I’m usually in one night a week. I never see you here.”

“My first time.”

“I ought to buy you a drink to celebrate.”

A hand landed on her shoulder and Ronin’s smooth cheek brushed hers as he inserted himself between them. “Sorry I’m late. I know how much you hate waiting.” Then he offered his hand to Will. “Ronin. And you are?”

“Will.”

“Thanks, Will, for keeping my girl company.”

What was up with Ronin acting as if they were a couple?

“My pleasure.” Will smiled at Amery. “Good seeing you again.” Then he moved to the other side of the bar.

“You ready?” Ronin asked.

“For you to explain to me exactly what the hell that was? Yes. Start talking.”

Ronin squeezed her shoulder. “A friendly reminder that you’re off the market.”

“Like I’m a slab of meat?” she asked sharply.

“You are Grade-A prime cut all the way, baby.”

“Ronin. That’s not funny.”

“No, it’s not.”

His eyes were so . . . penetrating that her heart sped up. “What’s wrong?”

“You’re a beautiful woman, who just rejected eight offers from strangers who wanted to buy you drinks.” He traced the edge of her cheek and tipped her chin up. “Watching you was a special kind of torture for me because I willingly devised it.”

“Why?”

“I wanted you to see the truth about yourself. Then I realized you would’ve let some of those guys buy you a drink or maybe even left with them had the situation been different.”

“Do you want me to admit you were right?”

“About letting any one of them buy you a drink? No.” Ronin’s thumb slowly followed the curve of her lower lip. When she trembled, he seemed to take great pleasure in treating her to another leisurely pass, ensuring that she trembled from his touch again. “Was I right about you being the sexiest woman in this bar? Yes. So say I’m unaware of my own beauty and you were irrevocably right, Ronin.”

Somehow Amery eased back from his enthralling touch. “Fat chance. So, where were you sitting while I was proving your point?”

“In the corner.”

“Watching my back?”