Anew: Book Three: Entwined (15 page)

She glances where I indicate. “That
looks like a good place to start.”

Slowly, she dips first one slender
foot and then the other into the water. Her eyes are wide and she’s shaking a
little. I put an arm around her and guide her toward the bench.

“Do you want to try just sitting
down? You won’t be submerged.”

“Yes, all right.” She lowers
herself as I do the same.

When we’re sitting side by side on
the bench, I put my arm around her shoulders and draw her close. She’s still
stiff but not quite as much.

“There’s no rush,” I say.

“I know… It’s not as bad as I
thought it would be.”

“Our worst fears usually aren’t.”

Even as I say that, I realize that
there are some situations where that just isn’t true. I look down at her, marveling
at her courage, not only in enduring what she did but how she has moved beyond
it in so many way, refusing to be held back by the darkness of the past. In my
eyes, she truly is a miracle.

“How was it possible for you to
survive?” I ask softly. “I don’t mean physically. Those bastards saw to that but--”

“Mentally? Emotionally? I don’t
know. I just… The whole time I was floating there, cut off from almost all
sensory input that wasn’t painful, I was aware of something beyond myself,
something that wasn’t cruel or callous, that was always there no matter how
frightened or in pain I was. Something that cared about me and that gave me the
strength not to give up.”

I have to swallow against the lump
in my throat. Whatever it was that Amelia believes she felt, I’m profoundly
grateful to it. “You know,” I say, “what you’re describing, some people would
call that god.”

She nods against my chest. “I
suppose they would. Maybe they’d be right. At any rate, I did survive and now I
have a life beyond any I could ever have dreamed of. I owe it to myself--and
whatever saved me--to live it fully.”

Barely has she said that than she takes
a breath, and swiftly lowers herself. As the water closes around her shoulders,
she gasps. I follow quickly, staying close by her side.

“Are you all right?”

“It’s hot!”

I grin, relieved that’s her first
reaction. “Scorching, but you’ll get used to it in a few minutes.”

She flexes her neck and sighs. Her
eyes flutter shut. On a note of wonder, she says, “That actually feels good.”

“That’s right, baby. There’s
nothing here that can hurt you.”

Except me.

Now more than ever, I can’t let
myself forget that.

Amelia

Y
esterday really happened, all of it. Standing on the
beach, waving goodbye to Ian as he leaves for an early morning meeting at the
Operations Center, I hug the memories to myself. Not only did I manage to go
into the
furo
but afterward when he carried me to our room and--

I can’t restrain my smile. Ian in
the dojo, pulling down my pants and thrusting into me with wanton fury was
everything I wanted. But so was the fiercely tender man who made love to me
last night, driving me to heights of ecstasy that left me shattered and utterly
replete.

Two sides of the same man. But
sides that I sense are still at war with each other. My relief at having faced
my own fears--and my gratitude to him for enabling me to do so--make me yearn
to do the same for him. I’ve tried words…I’ve tried actions…what’s left?

I’m still thinking about that as I
join Hamako on the terrace. She has brought a traditional
shamisen--
a
cross between a banjo and a lute--for me to try.

“I can play the piano but I’ve
never tried a string instrument before,” I say as she shows me how to hold it.

“You will find it very different,
not just in the method of playing but also in the sound. Traditional Japanese
music tends to be quiet and slow. The emphasis is on creating a pleasant,
relaxing sound that promotes inner reflection.”

As always, I’m eager to learn
anything that wasn’t part of my neural imprinting, something that I can make
uniquely mine. For an hour or so, I endeavor to coax sounds from the
shamisen
that don’t make me wince or cause Hamako to giggle politely behind her hand.

Finally, I sigh and say, “I could
spend a lifetime learning to play this.”

“
Hai
,” she agrees, “but for
a first time student, you have not done badly. If you were an apprentice
geisha, I would be very encouraged by your potential.”

I incline my head. “Thank you but I
believe the credit goes to your patience. You are a wonderful teacher.” I mean
that wholeheartedly. In just the short time that I’ve known her, Hamako has
opened my eyes to a new way of looking at both the world and myself.

“I appreciate that,” she says
quietly. “Which brings me to something I wanted to mention. Takashi and I are
giving an exhibition this evening for a private audience. You and Ian would be
most welcome to attend.”

She’s surprised me. Delicate,
restrained Hamako amid the rough and tumble of the dojo? “I had no idea that
you were involved in martial arts.”

“Oh, I’m not,” she says with a
smile. “That is strictly Takashi’s field. However, we are both devotees of
kinbaku. Have you heard of that?”

“I haven’t, no.”

Her smile deepens. Unless I’m very
much mistaken, there’s a sparkle in her eyes that wasn’t present when I was
attempting to play the
shamisen.

“Then come this evening,” she says,
“and you will learn.”

I promise her that I will try. I
don’t think Ian has any other plans for us but I’m also not sure how long he’ll
be at the Operations Center. He left early when Gab called to say there was new
intel that he needed to see.

Since Takashi insists that all
newcomers to martial arts training take a day off between classes, I’m at loose
ends after Hamako leaves. On the spur of the moment, I call Daphne.

“Are you up for a few rounds with a
punching bag?” I ask.

 The blond elf’s eyes light up. “Oh,
god, yes! I’m going stir crazy here. Bring a suit and we can go swimming
afterward.”

Half-an-hour later, she’s waiting
for me as I step onto the dock on the other side of the lagoon. As we walk up the
path toward the gym, Daphne casts me a sidelong glance. “So is everything
okay?”

It takes me a moment to realize why
she’s asking. When I do, I flush. Hastily, I say, “Everything’s fine.”

She nods but she’s not done yet. “That’s
good. Ian just seemed a little upset yesterday…in the dojo.”

“Oh,
that
.” I shrug, hoping
desperately that no one heard us after we stopped arguing and-- “That was
nothing. He can just be a little over-protective sometimes.”

Daphne nods. “I hear you. Gab’s the
same way. We have a deal that so long as I come home with all four limbs still
attached, she doesn’t get to say a word.”

“Sounds like something Ian and I
should negotiate.”

Grinning, she adds, “Of course, sometimes
all that protective outrage can get channeled in a very interesting direction.”

I feel my flush deepen and quickly
change the subject. We chat about the atoll and the amazing sea life around the
reef until we get to the gym where we spend the next two hours on the punching
bags and jumping rope.

Daphne, it turns out, won a jumping
rope competition when she was eight. She has a repertoire of tricks and
techniques that leaves me dizzy, gasping, and laughing even as I struggle to
keep up with her.

Afterward, we decide we deserve a
treat and head to the commissary for mango slushies before flopping on the
sand. It’s a perfect day, only a few stray wisps of clouds drift across the
cerulean sky as a gentle breeze riffles the palm fronds.

We’re lying on our backs, soaking
up the sun, when Daphne says quietly, “They’re going soon, aren’t they?”

I don’t pretend not to know what
she means. My throat tightens as I say, “I think so. It depends on the intel.”

She sighs and sits up, hugging her
knees. “Why couldn’t that asshole Davos just be dead, like he’s supposed to
be?”

I don’t have an answer for that.
Instead of trying to manufacture one, I say, “I’m sorry. I wish none of this
was happening.”

She looks at me in surprise. “Why
be sorry? This isn’t your fault. Davos and the others like him are a danger to
all of us. They have to be stopped.”

“Yes, but if he hadn’t come after
me, Ian wouldn’t be involved. And that means that neither would Gab and all the
other people here.”

“You think not?” she asks. “Maybe
you were the catalyst in all this but you’re not the cause. Too much power is
concentrated in too few hands. Either we right the balance now or we may never
have another chance.”

“You think killing Davos can
accomplish that?” I desperately want to believe so but I can’t fool myself.
He’s far from alone in his intentions for the rest of humanity.

“Not entirely, but it will be a
step in the right direction. If nothing else, it will send a message that somebody
with real power--Ian Slade--is willing to take down one of the exalted elite
who think they can take so much for themselves and leave the rest of us in the
dirt.”

I can’t help thinking that will
inspire the others to come after Ian but I may very well be wrong. It’s a
truism that the best way to deal with bullies is to hit them where it hurts the
most.

“Don’t worry,” Daphne says.
“Nobody’s better at this kind of thing than Slade Enterprises. If Davos weren’t
such a grade-a prick, I could almost feel sorry for him.”

I take some comfort from that and
more from the reassurance that she isn’t blaming me for what is about to
happen. But even the beautiful setting and the company of someone who has
quickly become a good friend have limits. Neither can lessen the fear that
stirs in me as I think of Ian and the others going into harm’s way.

My expression must reveal my
thoughts because Daphne gives me a sympathetic smile. “The first time is the
hardest,” she says, “you’ll see. They’ll come back, it will be great when they
do, and life will go on.”

I have to believe her, if only
because I don’t want to burden Ian with my fears. He has enough to deal with as
it is. Anxious to change the subject, I ask, “Are you going to the exhibition
that Hamako and Takashi are giving this evening?”

 “It’s not really Gab’s thing but
we’ll be there. I think kinbaku is fascinating.”

 “I don’t know anything about it.”

Her eyebrows arch. She looks amused
for some reason that I can’t grasp. “Really? Well, then, you’re in for a
treat.”

“Why’s that?” I ask. “What is it
exactly?”

“Exactly? Heck, I don’t know. An
art form, a ritual? The Japanese have lots of those but kinbaku is…different.”

“How so?”

Daphne tries but fails to hide a
smile. “You’ll see.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“You think?” She takes a sip of her
slushie, flops back down on the sand, and closes her eyes. But she’s still
smiling. Even if her amusement is coming at my expense, I’m glad of it.

By the time we part, I’m anxious to
see Ian but it’s still early and he isn’t home yet. Alone in the main room of
the house, I give into temptation and get on the link. A few minutes later, I
can’t decide whether I’m more shocked or aroused by what I discover about
kinbaku.

The first time I met Takashi, when
Hamako introduced us, the powerful sensual currents between them were
unmistakable. They are obviously a couple deeply in love and very attuned to
one another.

But this--

The images I find are both
beautiful and disturbing. Women, most in exquisite kimonos but some nude, bound
in intricate arrangements of ropes that when removed, can still be seen in the
tracings on their skin.

Oh, my.

I shift uneasily on the low couch.
My inner muscles are tightening and I’m suddenly aware of the fabric of my
swimsuit rubbing against my nipples. I keep thinking about what I’ve seen and
about what Hamako said when she was instructing me in performing the tea
ceremony. About how restraint heightens ultimate release.

Other memories begin to surface.
The gallery in Ian’s apartment at Pinnacle House containing works of art that
explore the range of human sensuality including erotic bondage. And more. The
palazzo with its hidden Cabinet of Secret Delights and the varieties of
pleasure to be explored there. I have yet to mention it him. I’m not at all
certain he knows that the hidden room exists.

Staring at the erotic images, I
become aware suddenly that my skin is prickling. The sensation is feather light
but unmistakable. I feel as though I am being touched… everywhere.

Across the space of the room the
air seems to shimmer, as though charged with primal force. I look toward the
door.

Ian is watching me.

His arrival takes me by surprise
and makes me all the more conscious of how absorbed I’ve been in the images.
I’m about to turn off the link when he stops me.

Glancing at it, he smiles faintly.
“I see Hamako spoke to you.”

Conscious that I’m blushing and
feeling all the more foolish because of it, I say, “She did, yes. I didn’t know
what kinbaku is so I thought that I’d find out and--”

He holds out his hand. I take it
and rise. Drawing me close, he tilts my chin back and looks at me. His amber
gaze locks on mine.

“Do you want to go to the
exhibition?” he asks.

“Yes, I do.” It’s not easy for me
to admit that. The truth is I’m surprised and a little embarrassed by my
fascination with what I’ve seen. But I’m not going back to hiding any part of
myself from Ian. He deserves better.

Softly, he asks, “Why?”

“Because I’m curious…and because it
appeals to me.”

His eyes darken. He stares at me
for a long moment before touching the pad of his thumb to my lower lip, rubbing
gently.

“Amelia…” The way he says my name
is part warning, part plea.

Holding his eyes, I lean into his
touch but I remain silent. He has to make the choice for himself. All I can do
is hope he will make the right one, for both our sakes.