French Kiss (23 page)

Until their mania reached climax and soon after they collapsed.

It was eerily quiet after the storm had passed.

Lying on his back, one hand over his eyes, Johnny dragged air into his lungs and said on a breathy exhalati
on, “Sorry. I’m…
never—like that.”

Nicky’s gaze was trained on the ceiling,
her breathing labored. “Me…
either.”

“
It was—just play.”

“I—know.”

“I apologize
…
for giving orders.” He mostl
y wished
he hadn’t fucking meant
them.

“I probably—said a
few…
things, too. Let’s just forget it.”
As if,
she thought, wanting him still without reason or rationale.

Lifting his hand away from his face, he turned, and feeling more in control, smiled at her. “Forgotten. Right?”

“Absolutely,” she replied, meeting his gaze, hoping her lack of conviction didn’t show in the shadowed room.

Abrup
tly rolling over her, he settl
ed between her legs, as though having been exonerated he was suddenly free to indulge his desires again. “We’re gonna need a bath or a shower soon. You’re all sticky.”

She could see his smile in the darkness. “It’s not my fault we’re sticky,” she said. Keeping it light worked for her, too.

“I guess that means I’ll have to do the washing up.”

He didn’t sound unhappy about it. And she could tell she wasn’t going to be unhappy, either, his penis already rigid against her thigh. “It’s up to you.”

He liked the sound of that.

He mostl
y liked that she was in the bedroom next to his.

Available 24/7
,
he was thinking.

“Ready?” he murmured.

“Need you ask?”

“I was being polite.”

“Is that so,” she said in a skeptic’s tone.

“I
said
I was sorry.”

“I know.” She grinned. “I was just making you squirm.”

“Squirm on this babe.”

Christ, was she lucky or what?

“Ummm
…
ummmm.” Definitely lucky.

T
he next morning, Johnny excused himself
after breakfast. “I have an appointment in the city,” he said, coming to his feet. “I’ll be back in a few hours.” He glanced at Jordi and Ve
rn
ie. “You girls have plans for the mall—right?” He turned to Nicky. “Are you going to work?”

“Since I have a business to run”—Nicky pointedly met his gaze—“yes I am.”

“Why don’t I stop by your office after my appointment?”

“For?” She wasn’t sure how closely she wished to be monitored.

He grinned. “I don’t know. Coffee break?”

“I’ll call you if I leave the office. I wouldn’t want you to make an unnecessary trip,” she said with just a hint of crankiness.

“Good idea,” he said, blithely
ignoring her fretful look. “Sa
yonara, girls.”

And with a wave he was gone.

*
*
*

U
nbeknownst to Nicky,
she had a bodyguard that day, although Barry had orders to stay out of sight. Johnny didn’t want her to freak after their discussion, i.e., argument, over the issue of bodyguards and privacy late last night. But he was making his own rules on this one.

He wanted to make sure she was safe.

Yuri and Raf weren’t the nicest guys in the world.

I
n one of
the more fashionable apartment buildings on Russian Hill, Johnny gave his name to the doorman and was passed through the opulent lobby to a private elevator that served
th
e penthouse. The doors on the elevator opened with a whisper as it came to a stop on the twentieth floor, and he walked into a large foyer paneled in golden teak. The floor was an intricate patterned parquet, the space lit with ancient torchieres, the room dominated by a brilliant red lacquer suit of Tokugawa armor centered beneath a glass domed ceiling. The centuries-old armor never ceased to dazzle him with the exquisite craftsmanship and magnificent splendor that overlay its purely functional purpose.

“This way, sir.”

A white-coated servant had appeared seemingly from nowhere.

He gestured Johnny to follow him, and a few moments later, he swept open a tall, bronze-embellished door.

“Mr. Patrick,” he announced, softly.

“Johnny, come in, come in,” a familiar voice proclaimed.

Stepping over the threshold, Johnny walked into a sunfilled room with a breathtaking view of the bay.

“I’ve been expecting you,” Fukuda
Kazuo
said with a smile. “Coffee, tea, or something more interesting?”

The man Johnny had called yesterday
in Tokyo
was lounging on a wheat-colored sofa,
his arms spread wide along
the back. He wore a gunpowder green
silk robe, embroidered in a
crane motif, his long black hair
resting on his shoulders, his lean,
wolfish face creased in a smile. He
and Johnny
had met years ago
on
the club scene in L.A., both handsome, young men enjoying the fast lane with reckless disregard for life, limb, and moral convention.

“Make it coffee,” Johnny said, sitting down in a sleek leather chair. “I gave up the ‘more interesting somethings’ a long time ago.”

A servant materialized from behind a screen in the corner.

“Just thought I’d ask,” Kazuo said, as his servant poured Johnny’s coffee. “Although, I know how much you value your family.”

Johnny grinned. “I just figured Jordi deserves a dad who knows what day it is.”

“My wife assures me such deprivation would do me good as well.” Kazuo waved off the servant.

“I recommend it.”

“I’m seriously considering it. I will soon have a son.”

“Congratulations.”

Kazuo smiled. “Thank you. My father is ecstat
ic.” His gaze softened. “As am I
.
I
have other interests now, so perhaps, I, too, will embrace a more conservative lifestyle. I’m funding an institute to study the impact of global warming on marine life.” He smiled faintly. “My wife is a marine biologist, so I have an incentive.”

“Whatever your reasons, it’s great you’re investing in the future. If you’re looking for contributions, hit me up.” Kazuo’s degree in finance from the Sorbonne suited him to the role of CFO. A position he held in his father’s organization as well.

“I may, although, it’s a private concern at the moment.” His brows rose. “My father prefers I keep a low profile.”

“Got it.” Kazuo’s father ran the largest yakuza—organized crime syndicate—in Japan. And while government and law enforcement in Japan had a long-standing, live-and-let-live relationship with the yakuza, Johnny understood that discretion was required.

“So give me the details,
mon ami.
Where are we going; what are we doing?”

“I need to put the fear of God into Du
t
ov’s son. He terrorized a woman I know.”

“Know?”

“Care about.”

Kazuo’s brows rose. “In what way?”

Johnny shrugged. “Don’t know. But it pissed me off when they broke into her house and frightened her. I want him to pay.”

“How much?”

“Just enough, I guess. I’m not unreasonable. I understand Du
t
o
v’
s power. That’s why I needed your help.”

“Because my father outranks Dutov.”

“Yes.”

Kazuo grinned. “And it doesn’t pay to cross my father. You’re talking about Yuri, I presume. He’s a bully.”

Johnny
grimaced. “So I understand. He’s a real prick from all
reports. My
ex got mixed up with him, involved me and, by ex
tension, this
woman. I wouldn’t have bothered you, but I needed
your clout.”

“Don’t apologize. What are friends for? Don’t think I’ve forgotten how you saved me from that narc.”

Years ago in L.A., Kazuo had made a deal for a delivery of ecstasy, and Johnny had tipped him off that his contact had been flipped by the DEA. While Jimmy Gordon, a fellow surfer, had said he’d been enjoying a month in the stews of Bangkok, he’d actually copped a plea with the DEA and had been doing time at the white-collar camp in Leavenworth.

“I’m guessing Yuri just needs a talking-to,” Johnny murmured. “To set him straight.”

“That should be enough. Without his old man”—Kazuo shrugged—“he’s an empty suit, and his old man isn’t going to take on my father. Do you know where to find him?”

“I’m looking into it. He has to deliver a ring somewhere.” Johnny grimaced. “Which was the reason he rousted this girl in the first place. Fucking Lisa had stolen the thing and then dumped the box into Nicky’s purse in my car.”

“What the hell did he need the box for?”

“Good question. But obviously he did. Fucking prick.”

“We’ll have to teach him some manners,” Kazuo said with a smile. “So, tell me, where did Lisa’s little theft take place?”

“Paris.”

“Ah, I love that city. Make my day. Tell me we’re going to lean on Yuri there.”

“I don’t know yet, but my men are on
it. I should get some info shortl
y.”

“So tell me about this Nicky. You’re going to a lot of trouble for her.”

“She’s an architect. She’s building a tree house for Jordi.”

“And?”

“And she turns me on, I guess.”

Kazuo smiled broadly. “Why do I ask?” He half lifted his hand. “And yet, how many women have you known who’ve turned you on?”

“Why did
you
marry?” Johnny countered, not sure whether he was avoiding the question or asking a serious one.

“My father picked her out.” Kazuo grinned. “But Chiyo’s turned out to be an admirable choice. She’s independent, intelligent, and not afraid of me.
You
wouldn’t be thinking about getting married again?”

“God, no. Not after the fiasco with Lisa. I’m gun-shy.”

“If you do, I’ll expect an invitation.”

“Don’t hold your breath.”

“Whatever.” Kazuo didn’t argue with his friend, but he’d known Johnny for a long time, and he’d never seen him go out of his way for a woman. If he
was a betting man—which he was—
he’d put some money on this Nicky. “Let me make a few calls and see if I can track down Yuri. My people might be able to pick up his trail.”

“He travels with Raf Cartegna.”

“Ah. A weakling and a playboy.”

In contrast, Kazuo was honed to the inch, an expert in the martial arts. In his youth, he’d lived in the mountains, studied under a legendary master, and become a deadly force.

Johnny came to his feet. “If I hear something, I’ll let you know. Cole’s seeing what he can find out. Barry’s guarding Nicky, but I want to check out her security myself.”

“If my people come up with an answer first, I’ll give you a call. We should be ready to go by”—Kazuo shrugged—“evening at
the latest, I’d guess.” He grinned. “Unless you want to spend the night with your lady.”

“Don’t tempt me.”

“Seriously, Yuri can wait. You have guards on your honey. He can’t hurt her.”

Johnny thought about disputing
the term,
honey,
but decided a
gainst it. Why make a
federal
case
over a casual designation.
And if truth be told, she
was
sweeter than sweet. “I’ll stay in touch.”

“I’ll be waiting by the phone, darling,” Kazuo said with a grin. “And when this is over, you’ll have to introduce me to this unusual woman.”

Johnny’s gaze narrowed. “You’re not exactly trustworthy.” The propensity for serial sexual encounters had been common with both men.

“I’ll have you know I’m a married man.”

“If you tell me you’re faithful to your wife, I might actually believe in miracles.”

“Let’s just say, I’m thinking about it.” Japanese tradition had always allowed men wide latitude outside marriage.

“Seriously?” Johnny’s surprise showed.

“Seriously.” Kazuo smiled. “My wife is better than all the rest.”

As Johnny left the apartment, Kazuo’s
words
—better th
an
all the rest—
ran through his mind. It wasn’t a completely new thought. When it came to Nicky, he was beginning to feel the same way.

Although, damned if he knew why.

But there it was.

And the feeling wouldn’t go away.