Page 24 of Pragma
“You’d never let that happen.” His reply and the warmth behind his words soothes my disappointment over his earlier silence.
“Aww, do you want to cuddle?” I step down from the throne and open my arms in wait.
“You’re like a hedgehog asking for free hugs,” he growls, not moving from his position. He looks a little tense.
I pout as my arms drop to my sides. I really wanted to feel all those muscles against my body.
Maybe there’s another way to achieve that. I smirk deviously—on the inside. “Let’s hit the dojo. It’s been weeks since we last did. Somekendomight help with that horrible balance of yours.”
“I can’t hold ashinaiwith my injury,” he reminds me, rolling his shoulder and wincing.
Ohhh, even better. “Then judo.”
“We are different weights.”
“Because of your wound, it will be like we are equal. I can flip you down.” I cross my arms. Maybe not flipping, but tripping I certainly can, and even make him kneel. I have a knack for getting under his skin.
“You’d look like a chihuahua flipping a wild beast.” One of his rare, small smiles lifts the corners of his lips, showing those pearly whites.
Damn! He’s so hot. I feel the sudden need to fan myself over here. How the hell have my body and brain had such a mindset transformation toward him, a perception reassessment, a viewpoint…reversal? From one kiss, an avalanche of change started.
“Stop talking back to the boss, servant, and let’s go.”
“Not your servant.”
I grab his hand and lace our fingers. He doesn’t pull away and even lets me drag him toward the door. I don’t think I’ve ever done this, hold his hand. But it feels familiar, the warmth of his palm, the roughness of his skin, the firm grip around my fingers.
The Prey Master’s words about easing the prey and making him feel comfortable suddenly come to mind.
Operation Snare the Bunny, plan commenced. What could go wrong?
Chapter Four
AKIRA
Iwait for River to give my name to the hostess in the black marble foyer. She checks the list, her expression turning from courteous to ecstatic as she asks us to follow her. We enter a large room with tables on both sides. I keep looking ahead, not in the least impressed by the luxurious place settings and shiny floors. I’m pissed to no end, at my aunt, who’s forcing me into an arranged marriage, and at River for not giving a fuck about it. But he will. I’ll make sure of it. I just need to get rid of this…date first.
I checked the file one of the men in black gave me. I’m about to meet the daughter of Kentaro Kondo, an oil tycoon corrupt to the bone, who seems to be interested in crossing into deeper illegal waters. Money in exchange for power to get more money—crazy, right? Giving his daughter away is just an extra guarantee, like I wouldn’t cut his throat if he was my father-in-law—preposterous.
The hostess takes us to a private room too white for my liking—the walls, the curtains, the tablecloth, and the virginal dress covering the woman waiting for me. I quickly go over her delicate features and straight black hair falling down hershoulders. As usual, I don’t feel a thing until River’s body moves behind me and his pecs press against my shoulders.
Hard dick alarm! I can’t stop it, even though I know he’s just nudging me inside the room.
The woman sees me, and a perfectly rehearsed smile appears on her rosy lips—a bit too plump to be natural. She glances at River for a little too long, and a possessive growl rises from my chest.
“Miss Kondo.” River tilts his head her way, and the growl travels up to my throat.
“Hi.” She is going for cute and innocent, now moving her hungry, brown eyes on me again. “I’m Tami. Let’s drop the formality, shall we?” She waves at the chair on the other side of the table. An invitation for me to take a seat, which I do, signaling to River to sit next to me.
“What would you like to drink? A little bird told me sake and…yakiniku. This restaurant is quite exclusive since the owner only buys Kobe beef and Kurobuta pork?—”
I stop her yapping. “Let me skip to the end of…whatever this is.” I prop both elbows on the table and lace my fingers—feeling the ring with my family emblem weighing on my pinky. I will become the most powerfulkumichothis organization has ever seen, but on my fucking terms. “I’m not interested.”
She studies me for a moment, then seeming to drop her sickly sweet, ass-kissing facade, she relaxes against her chair and takes a hurried sip of her cocktail. “Our families could both benefit grandly from this marriage arrangement,” she then states, changing her tune.
“Don’t care,” I shut her down.
“So you came here only to appease your boss?” She smirks, brushing her finger around the edge of her glass in a circular motion.
