Page 15 of Her Fearless Ronin

My mouth dropped open at the revelation, my eyes involuntarily jumping to his zipper. He was making that up, wasn’t he? Yes, he had to be. Jiro Saito was way too stuckup for anything like that… Or was he?

Didn’t they say it was always the quiet ones?

“Eyes up here, sweetheart,” Jiro purred.

My gaze flew back to his face, and his previously taunting smile turned into a knowing smirk. What was happening to him? Who was he right now?

“Good girl.”

I shivered at the intensity of his eyes, and the heaviness of lust settled in my lower belly, something both unsettling and unfamiliar.

Pedro turned red and started to mutter low threats in Spanish toward Jiro, who turned back toward him. His previously playful look transformed into smooth impassiveness, which I suspected was way worse than anger.

“You know, my man, sometimes you should be careful who you’re talking to.” Jiro turned toward me. “But even if cock rings are out of the question, maybe you can recommend new nipple rings,” he added, lifting his T-shirt, revealing a tattoo-covered chest so perfect it seemed to have been carved in marble and painted by Leonardo da Vinci himself.

My jaw went slack at the view and at the small hoop he had on each nipple before my eyes dipped down once again to his zipper, wondering if his previous statement had been the truth.

Unfortunately, it was something I would never know.

Pedro’s reaction was completely different but just as intense as mine as he kept his eyes on Jiro’s rib cage, his face as pale as a ghost.

“I—Ididn’t know.” He took a step back, raising his hands in surrender. “I didn’t know,” he repeated.

I frowned, concentrating on the same area Pedro had been looking at, but I didn’t see what scared him so much. It was just a snake intertwined... with the number893.

The dim light seemed to play on Jiro’s skin as he pulled down his shirt, the fabric hiding a canvas of well-chiseled muscle that I had only just been privy to. I took a moment, letting my eyes wander over him before turning my attention to Pedro, who had edged farther toward the door, a clear wariness in his eyes.

“She never mentioned being taken,” Pedro stammered, his hands raised in a gesture of placation.

I could only shake my head in disbelief. Such a cowardly move to shift the blame.

Jiro’s voice cut through the room, deep and smooth, “Well, she is.”

A gasp escaped my lips when I felt his hand delicately touch the nape of my neck, a gentle pressure that sent electric jolts straight to my core. My pulse raced as his fingers brushed my skin, and I leaned into his touch, drawn to him like a magnet.

When he tilted my face toward his, his voice dropped an octave, tinged with a huskiness that made my heart race. “Now you know.”

His gaze lingered on my lips, filled with a hunger and passion that left me breathless. And then, without warning, he closed the distance between us. His lips met mine in a storm of raw desire, taking me by surprise and pulling me into a whirlwind of sensations. The world dissolved around me, andall I could feel was the heat of his kiss and the yearning building within.

My fingers found their way to the hem of his T-shirt, clutching it tight, trying to bring him impossibly closer. The intoxicating blend of his scent—musk and something uniquely Jiro—consumed me. Each touch, each caress, only deepened the passion and made me lose myself more in the moment.

The world came crashing back when our lips parted. In the aftermath of our heated exchange, I realized Pedro had vanished, and Max’s disapproving eyes bore into us.

Blinking a few times, I tried to gather my thoughts, but my emotions were in turmoil. Jiro, however, looked unflustered, his fingers deftly working his phone as if our fervent kiss was but a fleeting distraction.

He glanced up briefly, his voice cool and detached. “Pedro won’t be troubling you again. You’re welcome.”

His nonchalance felt like a cold splash of water. The raw intimacy we had just shared reduced to a mere transaction. I was a damsel he had saved, nothing more. The realization stung, reminding me that in Jiro’s mind, I was just another problem for him to solve, another complication in his already complicated life.

As much as I tried to deny it, I couldn’t ignore the truth. I was not relevant to Jiro Saito. Our brief connection meant nothing to him in the grand scheme of things. I was just a girl caught up in his world of darkness and danger.

I took a deep breath, trying to compose myself and push down the hurt I felt. “Thank you,” I replied, my voice steady despite the turmoil inside. “For taking care of Pedro and forhelping me with my brother. I appreciate it.”

Jiro glanced at me, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of something in his eyes—regret, maybe? But it was gone as quickly as it came, and his expression became unreadable again.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he said, his tone distant. “It’s what I do.”

I nodded, understanding that this was who he was, the person he had become: Jiro Saito, the man who navigated the shadows and dealt with darkness. And I was just a girl who happened to cross his path.

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