by LJ Evans
“Don’t pretend to care, Mori-san. I’m not your sister. I never was. I was his child, but more importantly, I was his tool. I will let him use me this one last time.”
And then she disappeared into the night, leaving me feeling conflicted. I shouldn’t have felt more for her than I had before I’d known that blood joined us. Nothing had changed. If anything, I should have hated her for having a knife to my throat, taking me from Dax’s arms, and shoving me into danger. But somehow, knowing the truth had changed everything. I felt pity and sadness, remorse when it was not my fault that Otōsan had kept her a secret, and I felt pride for a sister who was strong and fierce.
Dawson was the one to join me first, shoulder brushing against mine.
“What’s going to happen to her?” he asked.
I shrugged carelessly, but my heart squeezed. I wanted her to be okay.
Dawson looked down into my face, sorrow and regret in his eyes. “I’m sorry.”
I shook my head. “Don’t be.”
“I’m the one who put all of this in motion. My desire to be the better man…” he trailed off, looking toward Violet as she talked with Dax.
Dax’s eyes met mine over the top of Violet’s head, and I gave Dawson the words Dax had given to me, trying to lessen the hold guilt had on him. “Dax told me that his father once said that the world of the Moris didn’t know how to end in anything but violence, and I think that’s true, Dawson. I think, no matter what had been the catalyst, the ending would have been a fiery one.”
I could tell my words didn’t do much to assuage the remorse he felt. I understood. The same feelings were embedded so deep in my veins it would be difficult to ever wash them from my soul.
Dax left Violet to join me, as if he’d read the emotions in my voice without ever being close enough to hear them. He tugged my fingers into his just as Violet wrapped an arm around Dawson’s side.
“You ready?” Dax asked.
I nodded.
The four of us made our way out of the temple into the night. The small town north of Tokyo, where my mother had made her home for as long as I could remember, was quiet but not silent.
Violet broke away from Dawson and hugged me. “We’ll see you in St. Micah in January.”
Her voice was breathy and filled with tears, as if we were ending instead of starting a new beginning. She and Dawson were coming to the island so we could finalize the purchase of land we were buying. Our intent was to leave the lab and testing facilities in San Francisco and do the majority of our production on the island. Dax and I were determined to make the dream he’d woven for me a reality.
Dawson and Dax slammed each other on the back in a typical male hug, and then Dax was pulling me to the car with our security team trailing us.
By the time we got back to Kaasan’s, the exhaustion of the day was catching up with me. I’d struggled to keep my mask in place for hours, to show nothing to those who were attending. The black dress and stockings I’d worn were filled with the scent of incense, cloying and heavy. It made my skin crawl. I longed to be free of it all, to wash my body and put this behind me.
I headed straight for my bedroom suite in the house that had technically been mine growing up but one I’d rarely lived in. None of it had truly ever belonged to me. This world of my parents’ in Japan had always been a mirage.
Dax and I were halfway to the room when he realized he’d forgotten something in the car. He kissed me and told me to go on, that he’d be right back. I didn’t think twice about it. I just shut the bedroom door behind me and pulled off the heavy clothes. I dropped them into the trash can in the bathroom, never wanting to see them or smell them again, not wanting these memories hanging in my closet.
I started the shower and then turned to lean on the bathroom doorframe, lifting my eyes to the ceiling of my bedroom. I’d left the lights off, and the soft, shadowed moonlight filtered in through the skylights. The stars glimmered above me through the clear glass. It was the only thing I’d ever loved about this house―the stars ablaze in my room.
Dax sauntered in with a smile on his face that was joined by an arched eyebrow at seeing me in nothing but my bra and underwear.
“What are you doing, mon bijou?” he asked.
“Getting rid of it all. Them. The scent. The memories.”
He stepped forward, bringing his hand from behind his back to hand me three flower stems. They were all lilies, but I only recognized the stargazer he’d given me as a teen.
“Hopefully, not all the memories,” he said softly.
“Where did you get these?” I asked breathlessly. Winter was hardly the time for them to bloom in Japan.
He shrugged with a suave smile. “That’s my secret. This is a stargazer lily,” he said, pointing to the pink one that I knew. “It’s common but sensational. Bright and scented.” He pointed to an orange-spotted flower. “This is a tiger lily. Dramatic but solitary because it usually only has one bloom per stem.” He pointed to a single stem containing a cluster of pink and yellow flowers. “And these are heartstring lilies. They are known to bloom together. A mix of colors. A blending of families.”
While I stared at the lilies, my heart pounded because I knew he was sending me a message in his typical Dax way, meaning behind each word.
“When we get to St. Micah, we will always have them blooming. In the garden, in the conservatory, in our room…just to remind you.”
My eyes met his, my breathing coming in tiny pants as I asked, “Remind me of what?”
“Of the girl who believed in the power of the stars, of the woman who had the strength to stand alone, and of the future where you will never be a single bloom again.”
I placed the flowers on the bathroom counter behind me and stood on my tiptoes to wrap my arms around his neck. “I’m already going to let you kiss me, Dax. You don’t need to say something so lame to try and butter me up.”
The words from a decade ago came easily back to my lips, and I loved that he recognized them, his eyes twinkling, his lips curling upward.
“It’s still true…the words I told you then. You glow like there’s a power inside you that no one else has,” he said as he tugged my hips up tight against his. “See, your skin is glowing in the moonlight, shining on me and the world. A light in the dark.”
I was no longer the unprepared girl I’d been when he’d first said similar words to me, but they still filled my heart. They made me feel like that girl who’d believed in love and fairy tales and honor. His words made me feel wanted…adored.
“Shut up and kiss me,” I told him.
And he did, slowly and methodically. Tongue caressing my mouth as if it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted. Long, languishing licks that lit the flame inside me. My belly and chest turning hot and tingly as his fingers trailed over my shoulders, undoing my bra and tossing it behind us. He lifted me, moving us backward into the bathroom and placing me on the counter as his hands and tongue continued their journey over and in me, as if worshipping each piece.
He stepped away, shedding his clothes while I watched, returning to me in nothing. He tugged my underwear aside, the length of him teasing my entrance.
“I can’t wait today, mon bijou. I need to make you mine.”
I loved that he sometimes made the choice to take me like this, as I needed it. Fast and furious and not always slow and methodical. Although, I’d come to adore his way as much as my own.
“I’m already yours, Dax.”
He grinned against my lips as he entered me, dark eyes watching my face, taking in every movement. My eyes fluttered shut, and his hands on my hips tightened. “I need to see your eyes, chérie.”
I opened them, staring into his as we moved together, the tantalizing pulse of a climax building within us, the power of it threatening to overcome us both, to make us lose ourselves in the one being we became when rocking together this way. Our bodies shuddered and shook at the same time, the glor
ious waves breaking over us and filling me with joy, the utter beauty of it letting me know this moment was real.
“I love you,” I told him, lining his chest with kisses.
“Je t'aime,” he uttered in a deep growl of French that caused my insides to flex around him. He smiled. “Round two?”
I nodded, and we moved to the shower, using the bench and the marble walls to support us, leaving handprints on the steamy glass. The sound of the shower was unable to hide the sounds of our lovemaking. I could hear each beautiful moan and cry clearly because the underwater feeling had left my head, my injuries healed.
After we hit the peak once again, panting and shuddering with pleasure, we retired to the low mattress in the very traditional Japanese room. Dax slept naked, and I was finding there was no point in me sleeping in anything either because whatever I put on almost always disappeared the moment his hands landed on me. Whether that nakedness ended with him inside me or just our bodies twined together, he still needed the feeling of our skin, and only our skin, as he slept.
Dax spooned himself around me. He laid a kiss on my shoulder, tucking his face into the crook of my neck, inhaling deeply. “Your scent is intoxicating, mon bijou. Joel told me he’s attempting to bottle it, but I don’t want him to. It’s mine. I don’t want it on shelves for others to have.”
I laughed lightly. “You do realize that Romeo is the scent Joel bottled for you, right? Just think, we could sell them together. Romeo and Juliet.”
Dax growled. “We are no longer star-crossed. We aren’t Romeo and Juliet or Shinji and Hatsue.”
It was true. Dax’s father had cried when Dax told him what Otōsan had said about Élodie and her death. He’d cried for his sister, and the loss of a friend, and the future they’d discussed as three starry-eyed college students ready to take on the world. Étienne hadn’t quite accepted me into his family with open arms, but he also wasn’t pushing me away, just like he wasn’t pushing Dax to abandon me. Maybe because he knew the truth…that Dax would leave him before he deserted me again.
Still, I couldn’t blame Étienne for watching me with a hint of apprehension. There would always be Mori blood running through me, but I also hoped he’d eventually see how much I loved Dax. How my only real goal these days was to keep him happy and safe. To share a life with him that neither of us had ever imagined coming true.
“Violet would love the Romeo and Juliet idea too,” I said, mind whirling with marketing ideas.
His hand ran along my belly, up to my breast, tugging a nipple.
“No more talk of Violet or scents or work,” he demanded.
Mere weeks ago, I would have cursed him and moved away, not letting anyone demand anything of me. But I loved the way Dax demanded my attention in the bedroom, a sharp contrast to how I spent the rest of my life. I loved letting go to him. Giving in. Letting him lead in this one place.
“We have a lot to do when we get back to St. Micah,” I said, knowing I was provoking him, doing it on purpose to get the reaction I craved. “We have the architect to meet with, and I have to hire―”
He cut me off by flipping me over onto my back, pinning my arms above my head, and grunting out, “No more,” before he took my entire breast in his mouth, twisting and tugging at the other one.
Thoughts of the manufacturing site we were looking at disappeared from my head. But another thought emerged from the recesses of my brain. A thought I had to say aloud before I got lost in us and forgot it.
“Dax,” I gasped out, pushing against him a little.
He stopped, worry coasting over his face. “Mon bijou?”
“Thank you.”
The worry flew away, replaced with confusion. “For what, chérie?”
“For so many things. For believing in me, for seeing the good in me behind the bad, for loving me, and for standing beside me.”
“I hate that you still believe there was bad in you. If it takes loving you longer than the stars light the sky to prove to you that every ounce of you is good, then I will gladly take on that task.”
He stared into my eyes with tears littering his, the emotions behind the words strong and fierce. Just like Dax. Just like me. Just like our love.
No longer star-crossed…simply stars.
Dax - Five Years Later
I’M ALIVE
“You've woken a part of my soul
That's slept for way too long
Now I just can't get enough
I understand love songs.”
Performed by Imelda May
Written by Imelda Mary Highman
When Jada hadn’t shown up at the villa by dinner time, I knew I had to go retrieve her. Instead of being irritated by this, it filled me with pleasure. Fetching her meant touching her. I’d haul her pretty little ass back home and toss her in bed and spend the rest of the night making her remember who she was coming home to.
When I got to the Force de la Violette building, it was mostly dark, the glass walls and doors reflecting the Caribbean sunset and turning everything around me into a sea of orange and pink and blue. Jada and Violet hadn’t created just another drab manufacturing site. They’d built an environmentally friendly, first-of-its-kind production facility. People traveled from all over the globe to see it, to model their buildings after this one. Of course, it helped that we had both sunshine and wind in excess on the island to fuel it.
“Evening, Mr. Armaud,” the security guard said as I came in.
“Evening. Jada in her office?” I asked, already knowing it was the case because I’d seen the light from the parking lot.
“Yes, she just returned about an hour ago.”
I frowned. Returned? She must have headed home and forgotten something. Then, knowing Jada, she’d opened an email and gotten sidetracked.
I took the glass steps two at a time, in a hurry to reach her. In a hurry to get her home, feed her, and take her to bed.
My phone rang just as I hit the landing. Dawson.
I stopped, staring out the glass windows to the ocean that sat just beyond the strip of land blocking the building from the sea.
“Hey,” I said. “Not really a good time. Can I call you back?”
He chuckled on the other end at the words that had become our secret code. Leave me alone, I’m making love to my wife. The word wife lit me up. Jada was mine. Forever and always. We’d been married on the beach, with a handful of guests and employees in attendance. It was the smallest event Jada Mori had ever thrown but one that meant the most. It had still cost a pretty penny because Jada demanded the best of everything. She should. She deserved it.
“I just wanted you to know that Angelica and Demario beat our record,” he said.
“Putain,” I swore and then headed toward Jada’s office again.
Dawson laughed harder. “At least it was in an Armaud Racing boat.”
“I’m too old to try and beat them,” I groaned, knowing that Dawson was going to have a hard time letting them steal the Conquistar de la Atlántica cup out from under us.
“What does it say about me that I don’t even want to try?” he said quietly, and it caused me to almost stumble.
“You don’t?”
“Nope. It would mean being gone from Violet and the kids for too long.”
A few years ago, I would have called him whipped for it, but I had no desire to be gone from Jada either. We might not have a trail of kids behind us, but we had each other. It was enough. Papa and Maman would love to have grandkids to spoil, but I think they’d finally realized that Jada’s past had left some permanent scars. Children weren’t in the cards for us. I was lucky I’d gotten her to agree to marry me.
“Well, I guess miracles do happen,” I said with a smile.
“They do,” he said, quiet again.
“Why so serious?” I asked.
“Are you with Jada?”
“On my way, why?”
“She called Violet earlie
r, and Vi got that worried look on her face. She wouldn’t tell me what was going on. I think I might have an idea…” he trailed off.
“But?” I asked.
“I’m getting the stink eye. Just make sure she’s okay,” he said.
I loved and hated that Dawson still felt so protective of my wife.
“Always,” I said.
We hung up, and I hurried the remaining steps to her office with a new worry flooding me. When I got to the door, it was ajar. When I pushed it aside, she was at the desk, looking down at a paper with her hand, flipping her phone over and over on the glass surface. Nerves. Nerves I rarely saw in her these days.
“Mon bijou?” I said softly.
She jumped, the phone sliding across the smooth surface. She turned the paper over, and I couldn’t help the fear that bled into me. Five years ago, she’d been almost as jumpy when I’d found the death threat in her possession. A bloody kaiken and promises of retribution.
I crossed the room, and she rounded the desk to meet me.
I pulled her into my arms, tucking her into my chest and squeezing tightly. She belonged there. With me. Next to me. Part of my life.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Did Dawson call you?” she returned my question with one of her own.
“Yes, but I was already on my way to get you. You’re late.”
The scold was said with heat. Usually, we both liked it when she was late, and I had to come and carry her home. Tonight, she didn’t return my desire with one that matched mine. Instead, she pushed away.
After taking two steps, she looked back with so much of the old Jada that my heart found its way into my throat and stayed there. The closed-off woman she’d once been had disappeared over the last few years. She laughed easily and smiled regularly these days. Lighter. Freer. Closer to the stargazer on a regular basis than she’d ever been to the tiger lily.
“What is it?” I asked.
She put her hands to her forehead, rubbing the temples.
“The Kyōdaina?” I asked, holding my breath.
They’d become pretty much defunct after Malone and his team had finished with them. All the leaders from her father’s time were in jail. But like any hydra of the underworld, they still had heads that popped up now and again as some of the lower minions who’d been left behind tried to resurrect it.