Page 87 of The Dragon 1
“I don’t see one. I see a beautiful garden and I’m enjoying the garden and. . .you, but. . .”
He raised his eyebrows.
“I feel like I’m your prey right now.”
“Prey runs. You walked right to me. You’re my reckoning.”
I didn’t even have time to decipher what that meant. “You know what I think about tonight? The ride here. . .your men. . .this beautiful garden and music. . .”
“What do you think, Tora?”
“I think thatyouwanted to show me your world,” I glanced at the cherry blossoms and then put my view back on him. “Am I right?”
“You are.”
“Then, show me, but also show me your discipline and restraint too.”
This time it was his turn to blink in surprise and I felt so much satisfaction. “I need more than your being horny and ready. Impress me with more than just the fire you’re holding under your skin.”
He stared at me, eyes dark and dilated, as if he hadn’t been spoken to like that in a long time.
Maybe ever.
But. . .I swear on everything. . .I think he liked it.
Immediately that book hit my head and the vision of the mysterious woman shooting up ice magic and slamming it into the dragon in the sky.
I cleared my throat. “I’m not asking you to dim the fire, I’m just asking you topaceyourself. Let me. . .breathe inside this world you’ve built. Let me. . .adjust. . .find my footing. . .then maybe. . .we can compromise on touching. . .”
His gaze flickered across my face—searching, maybe deciding. Then, that grin faded into something more serious. Hungrier but quieter. “I respect the kind of woman who can hold a dragon back.”
Heat prickled down my spine.
“I’m not always a gentleman, but for you, I’ll wear the skin of one. At least for tonight.”
I almost smiled. “That’s probably the sexiest threat I’ve ever heard.”
“You haven’t heard my others.”
I was not ready for this man. . . but my body didn’t get the memo.
“I told you yesterday that you should always know who you’re meeting with, before you greet them.” He tilted his head to the side. “Do you know who I am now?”
I’d done a whole lot of research for sure.
Kenji was the second son of the man who led the Yamaguchi-gumi—the largest Yakuza syndicate in Japan, with over seventy thousand members nationally and more across the world.
Some even lived in New York, California, and Hawaii.
That alone should’ve made me cancel the date.
I’d also discovered that the Yakuza weren’t like the Italian mafia. Supposedly, they operated more like a business—gangsters in tailored suits who upheld old customs and served their communities.
There were good stories. After the 2011 tsunami in Japan, the Yakuza were among the first to deliver aid and supplies.
There were bad stories too. They apparently did a lot ofsokaiya—their method of buying company shares, digging up dirt, and blackmailing CEOs with the threat of shame.
Apparently, in Japan, shame could destroy more than scandal.
