Total pages in book: 111
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 115388 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 577(@200wpm)___ 462(@250wpm)___ 385(@300wpm)
Jean-Pierre watched.
Minutes passed in silence.
Then, I spoke again. "This weapons deal would not just be business. It would be a gesture of friendship between us."
Jean-Pierre didn't turn to look at me. He watched the stage as though trying to read a message from the dead. "And how deep would that friendship be, Dragon?"
"As deep as your loyalty to this deal, Butcher."
“I would need your assistance with a very big cat.”
“It just so happens to be that trapping big cats is a hobby of mine.”
He smirked. “I give you weapons. You handle your problem, and then you assist me with our mutual problem.”
“Once my problem is solved, I will assist you.”
Jean-Pierre nodded and thought it over.
More music unfurled.
The Phantom now sang, a duet rising into a violent ache.
The opera swelled.
Masks fell.
Secrets howled from red-draped wings.
Jean-Pierre finally turned to me. "I will give you your three planes full of enough fire power to kill thousands and flatten cities. I just need twenty-four hours to make this happen."
I wanted it faster. I needed to be back with my Tiger before the next dusk. But I nodded and then gestured behind me.
The twins—Aki and Yuki—carried over sleek titanium cases.
"Payment upfront," I gestured to them. "In honor of our new friendship."
Jean-Pierre raised a brow, but his smile was satisfied. He signaled Rafael. His cousin came over, opened the case, and inspected the contents.
A chuckle came as he spotted the bundles of crisp euros, tightly packed. Rafael checked the other case that held gold bars, stamped with Yakuza sigils—a mark of lineage, not just value.
Rafael closed the cases. "You always pay beautifully, Dragon, and quickly."
"My father always said the longer the delay, the closer you are to betrayal."
Jean-Pierre nodded. "He is a clever man. Please tell him I said hello."
“I will.” I put my attention back on the stage.
I’ll tell my father that and so much more.
I watched the Phantom reach for the woman on stage. Fire blazed behind his mask.
So did mine. This deal was struck, and soon I would be home to taste my Tiger.
Rafael headed away with the cases.
My phone buzzed.
Curious, I pulled it out and checked the screen.
Nyomi.
My breath didn’t hitch. But my pulse betrayed me.
Had it been any other woman, I wouldn’t even have flinched and I definitely would have silenced the phone. Thoroughly finishing a deal was always more important.
But for my Tiger?
I would pause from burning down a city to make sure no ash got on her white dress.
Jean-Pierre watched me. “Important?”
“Very,” I nodded. “Excuse me.”
I headed off.
Reo’s brow lifted just a touch.
Hiro’s eyes tracked me in silence.
But, neither said a word.
What does my naughty tiger want?
Chapter seventeen
The Tiger’s Moan
Kenji
I left the box and entered the elegant hallway.
The phone stopped buzzing.
A few Corsican men lingered near a marble arch. One shifted, as if to approach, but I gave him a glance that turned him back toward the wall.
I called her back and found a statue at the far end of the corridor. It was an alabaster rendering of Tristan and Isolde, their mouths nearly touching, their eyes closed in eternal ache. The legend of love so deep it killed them.
Beautiful.
Brutal.
Eternal.
The line picked up.
"I hope I'm not bothering you." Her voice melted into my bones like warm honey poured over a blade.
I licked my lips. "You can bother me whenever you want."
“Whenever?”
“Whenever.”
“That’s sweet.”
“That’s exactly what the world thinks of me, Tora. Kenji, the sweet Dragon.”
She laughed, low and wicked. “I called for two reasons. The main one was to say thank you for breakfast.”
“I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
“I did.”
“But you didn’t enjoy my other gift?”
A pause came from her, and then she asked, “What other gift?”
“The suite.”
“That wasn’t a gift, Kenji. That was a suggestion in case I ever felt uncomfortable on the futon. And I don’t.”
My jaw tightened. I looked up at the statue’s stone lips, still chasing each other through time. “You should be in the suite.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s where I want you.”
“Naughty Dragon.”
I smiled, but there was no humor in it. Just hunger. “I think about you there right now. In that bed. Alone. Naked. The silk slipping along your body. The scent of your pussy singing in the sheets. . .”
She exhaled like she felt it too. “That’s not fair.”
“I’m not fair. I’m territorial. And I’m trying—very hard—not to fly back tonight and put you exactly where I need you.”
“And where’s that?”
“Underneath me. Begging me to stop. While clawing at my back so I never do.”
Her breath caught.
And in the silence, the statue behind me seemed to lean closer, like it was listening.
I got closer to the lovers. “I had the suite prepared just for you. Sheets pressed. Silk steamed. Curtains drawn. Music curated. The staff was instructed to spoil you.”
“That is so sweet. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me with words, Tora. Move into the suite.”
“I am comfortable here, Kenji.”