“I never had a reason to hurry back before.” He touched the locket. “Come with me to the airport. I’ll have more time with you that way.”
She wanted to resist the smile, but couldn’t resist the man. “Will you at least let me drive the car while you’re gone?”
CHAPTER 13
“You could have just dropped me off.” Harry pulled his small hand luggage and laptop from the Ferrari trunk.
“And have you standing out in front of Hartsfield-Jackson like some kind of vagabond? Not a chance.” Bianca watched the muscles move through Harry’s back and arms as he shouldered his luggage and slammed the Ferrari’s trunk closed. She was already missing him.
When he stepped back and looked at her with his hand extended, she let her hand find his. The smile he turned on her made her tighten her fingers on his and her heart bumped. Reluctant to simply let him go, she matched her steps to his. She had never done this kind of little thing with any of the men in her past—and meant it.
KPayne would have said it broke his flow with his crew and shaken her off. But Harry was different. He liked their growing closeness, encouraged intimacy—a major change from what she’d had with KPayne. With KPayne, the best she could have hoped for was to have been one among the many women surrounding him. With Harry, the need was for only one. It wasn’t in him to make another person insignificant.
“Wait, I want to do something.” She dropped his hand and searched the contents of her tote bag, surfacing with her cellphone. It wouldn’t take the best of photos, but for now, it would serve the purpose—give her something to hold onto in Harry’s absence.
Before he could protest or pose, she clicked three shots of him. His face looked the way she liked it, and painted with afternoon sunlight, he looked like some mythical god—not that she intended to tell him that. If he found out later, then good for him, but for now these thoughts were for her alone. Satisfied with her quick shots, she dropped the phone into her bag and pushed her hand back into his. But Harry’s feet stayed glued to the sidewalk.
“I know you don’t think you’re the only one who gets to take pictures?” He tapped the shoulder of a passing woman and offered his own phone. “Would you mind?”
“Oh, I’d love to.” The tanned woman’s dress fluttered on the warm breeze, and she smiled as she took the phone from Harry’s hand. Happy to help, she threw her thick plaited hair over her shoulder and tilted her head in concentration. Closing one sultry blue eye, she squinted through the other and pressed the button. She clicked three more shots before she handed the phone back to Harry and waved a coquettish farewell.
Pocketing the phone, Harry caught a glimpse of Bianca’s face. “Don’t look like that. It’s a good idea, and it’ll give me something to dream about until I get back to you.”
“Aw, Harry…”
He gave her shoulder a squeeze and slid his hand along her arm. “We’ll make up for this lost weekend.”
“I refuse to think of it as lost.” Bianca bumped her hip against his as they reached the ticket counter. “I’m going to call it postponed.”
“Postponed sounds better,” he said, laying his travel documents on the counter. “I have about an hour until the flight leaves. I can at least feed you while we wait.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then how about something to drink? Coffee?”
An hour was less than she wanted, but if he wanted to drink coffee, then she would, too. She marveled at the fact that she was so willing to spend the time sipping coffee and talking. There was a time when she would have rushed this big sexy man into the nearest secluded corner and done everything in her power to leave a print of her body on his skin.
Dropping into an upholstered chair, Bianca set her tote on the floor at her feet. She wasn’t sure of the expression on his face, but she knew it included her when she pulled her legs into the chair and twisted them beneath her body.
“It feels funny, doesn’t it?”
She knew exactly what he meant, but wanted to hear him say it. “What?”
“Sitting here, getting ready to say goodbye.”
Her eyes met his. “It doesn’t feel funny. It feels…like I’m losing something.”
“I know what you mean. I feel the same way.”
Bianca pushed her feet out of the chair and sat straighter. Suddenly, she didn’t want him to go without hearing what she needed to say. Harry studied his coffee then looked up at her.
“I’m not ready to leave you yet. There’s so much about you that I still want to know,” he said, reaching across the space between them, catching her fingers. When she started to pull back, he tightened his grip. “When we first met, you said you were complicated; you were right.”
Touched, Bianca felt a little stronger. “I’m not ready for you to leave, either. I thought that maybe by the end of this weekend, you wouldn’t think I was all that complicated.”
“Is that important to you?” She nodded. “Then tell me something that you’ve never told anyone else.”
Cowardice almost made her pull away. “Julia and I hadn’t spoken in five years, up until a few months ago. Mostly, it was my fault; I should have listened and I didn’t, then I picked the fight and it was a big one. We couldn’t accept how different we were, the things we couldn’t change, my selfishness, and that we were pretty much all we had. In the time we were apart, I kinda turned into someone I didn’t like a lot, did some things I’m not proud of. In the end, I couldn’t have gotten out of the hole I dug for myself without my sister. We never stopped being sisters. In all the time we didn’t speak, we never stopped loving each other.”
Harry looked at her without pity as she wound down, and she felt herself accepting the part of him that was so willing to just be with her. “Guess you can see why I couldn’t have gotten all of that out in ten seconds.”
“I like that about you, your honesty. That’s part of what makes it easy to accept you with all of your complications.”
“Aw, Harry.” She pushed at his arm and pouted when he grinned. “You’re not supposed to call them my complications. Only I can do that.”
His grin slipped into the sexy little side-lifted smile and Bianca felt herself slipping, just a little, into love with him.
All too soon, it was time for her to walk with him as far as security allowed. At the gate, he looked at her and blessed her with his crooked smile. Bianca’s knees softened when his hands smoothed her arm. “When I get back, it’s you and me, right?”
“Right,” she said softly.
He brought his face close, his forehead brushing hers. “Kimi-ni muchü-nanda.”
In his eyes, Bianca saw the reflection of everything she felt. “That sounds good, but I didn’t understand a word you said.” But she would have killed to hear him say it again.
His arm slipped around her, pulling her close enough to whisper the words against her lips. “Kimi-ni muchü-nanda. I’m crazy about you.” His mouth closed over hers, and she tasted need in him that matched the need in her. Her fingers collected the cloth of his shirt and held tight.
Slow and thorough, his mouth demanded a sweetness that she gave without reserve, and once given, she couldn’t have taken it back if she’d wanted to—and pressed against him, she didn’t want to. She felt his hand, warm and firm against the halter-bared skin of her back and wanted to melt into him, but there was no time for more.
“Kimi-ni muchü-nanda,” he whispered into her hair as he released her. Shouldering his bag, he brought a hand to her cheek and took a step away from her. “I’ll call you.”
“You’d better.” She wanted to follow his hand, be stroked just one more time. “I’ll be waiting to hear about your trip.”
“Thirteen-hour trip. I think I’d rather have phone sex.” His eyes were wickedly teasing.
Bianca plucked at the hem of her pink top and smiled shyly. “I can do that, too.”
“Then I know I’m going to call you.”
He lifted a hand and h
er fingers lingered against his until he stepped away from her. She couldn’t bring herself to say goodbye, but she watched his back when his long steps carried him away from her.
Backing away from the security gate, Bianca brought her fingers to her lips. If she concentrated, she could still feel him; tasting his kiss took less effort.
Wandering back along the concourse, looking in store windows, she imagined the shopping she had planned to do with Harry. She turned into a bookstore, found a Japanese travel guide and flipped through the pages and found photos and descriptions of the Tokyo Tower, the Hanazono Jinja shrine, the Kaminari Gate, and more. She didn’t have to close her eyes to imagine visiting them with Harry. In her head, they were there and good together. She took the book to the counter and pulled out her wallet.
“This is a beautiful book,” the clerk said, taking it from Bianca’s hands. “You ever been to Japan?”
“No.” Suddenly gossipy, Bianca leaned toward the clerk and dropped her voice. “My boyfriend is going there on business.” Bianca didn’t have a clue as to why she was sharing with this stranger.
“Your boyfriend is Japanese?”
“And African-American.”
The clerk folded her arms over her airport shop smock. Wicked conspiracy and sisterhood crowded her face. One eye closed in a knowing wink and she grinned widely. “Blackanese, huh? Bet he’s fine.”
“That’s a bet you’d win.”
“Got any pictures?”
Bianca shook her head. No way was she sharing Harry. “Sorry.” She smiled, taking her change and her book.
“Oh, well. I’ll just have to live off my imagination, I guess. You have a good day, sister, and take care of that man. Blackanese.” The woman chuckled, liking her own humor.
Tucking the book under her arm, Bianca winked at the clerk, and felt closer to Harry as she walked away from the counter. Turning out of the shop and into the concourse, thinking of his kiss, she truly believed that if she’d been alone, she would have done a little happy dance.
“Bianca?”
The sound of her name brought her up short, and crossing the corridor, KPayne didn’t give her a chance to answer. Walking like a gunfighter, dressed in sand-colored linen with leather sandals on his bare feet, KPayne looked like he was trying to pimp Jay-Z, but his ever-present posse was a dead giveaway. He was out for the day and needed an audience.
Bianca forgot about the music in her head and her happy dance. Behind Kelvin, Alin’s lips bent into a smirk, and one of the spandex-and-shorts girls leaned against him, tittering behind her manicured hand. This had to end sometime, and now was as good a time as any for a showdown. In the middle of the International concourse at Hartsfield-Jackson airport, Bianca stood her ground.
“Hi, Kelvin.”
His green eyes narrowed and his jawline stiffened. “What are you doing here?”
Like I don’t have a right to be in a public place…Close enough to touch, his voice was hard—typical, but she refused to flinch. “I came to see a friend off.”
“A friend, huh? Guess you’re not going to ask me what I’m doing here.” No question in his voice. He knew she wasn’t going to ask, but he needed for her to know. “I’m headed to London for a few days. One of my acts has a show.”
“That’s nice, Kelvin. I hope you’ll have a successful trip.”
“Thanks. This trip could open some doors.”
One of the women whispered behind him, and he gave her a silencing scowl. Turning back to Bianca, his thumb and forefinger stroked his chin, and the corner of his mouth hitched in irritation. “That’s all you’ve got to say to me?”
“What do you want me to say, Kelvin? I’m here in the airport, minding my own business. You could have said hello and kept going. You could have said nothing, just gone on about your business, but you didn’t. What do you want me to say?”
“You could say you’ve got my money.”
She stomped her foot and had to grip her tote and book to keep from going for his throat. “Not this again.”
“Yeah, this again. This is all that stands between us, you know? Pay your bill, and we’ll be over.” He aimed two fingers at her like guns. “I’ll be gone for about a week, but you need to get your affairs in order for my accountants when I get back.”
“You’ve been getting your payments according to the contract I signed.”
“Yeah, well, not every signature is binding.”
What is that supposed to mean? Bianca watched him push his hands into his pockets and, when the group shuffled away, she was glad their ways had parted, even if the parting hadn’t been her idea. Bianca’s steps were quick and final as she walked in the other direction. Her thoughts rushing from a man on his way to nowhere, to a man she was already wishing back from a country she’d never seen.
KPayne turned to watch her go. Hips swinging in white jeans, she never looked back. How is she doing that, just walking away from me? Why isn’t she more worried?
He felt a little shiver ghost past his heart and it made him wonder why she wasn’t more intimidated. Does she have a way to get the money? Does it involve Vive la Reine? And why hasn’t she figured out that hers is a venture destined to fail?
CHAPTER 14
Harry could have sworn he would have known it was Atlanta’s Hartsfield-Jackson airport even if he’d been blindfolded. At two in the morning, traffic had slowed and the night was hot and moist. He looked up into what felt like endless night, the sky all velvety and mysterious, filled with a cityscape of stars, and reminding him of Bianca. Raising his hand to hail a cab, he felt a little hollow, missing her.
Twenty-four hours earlier, leaving Narita International in Tokyo, he was only guessing when he told her that his flight back to Atlanta would take thirteen hours, the time difference between Atlanta and Tokyo—but what did he know? He wasn’t the pilot and he couldn’t account for the time and weather, but he didn’t mind the delays when Bianca made good on her word about the phone sex. His smile was broad when his cab slowed in front of him. Settling his long frame into the back seat, she stayed on his mind.
Bianca Coltrane was truly a woman of many talents, and he was pretty sure he would have willingly walked the near seven thousand miles back from Tokyo just to see her again. Now he was back and glad to know she was eager to see him, to get back to what they’d begun. He leaned back into the seat and sighed. The taxi didn’t even begin to compare with the Ferrari, but it rolled and was headed in the right direction. Tired, he let his eyes drift shut.
At least he had gotten some work done. The Roppongi project was actually centered in and around a new hotel complex in Tokyo’s Minatoku ward. Roppongi was known for its nightlife and popular with foreigners, but the new buildings were planned to be a star in the district’s crown, and their proximity to the massive Roppongi Hills shopping and dining complex had already drawn some criminal attention and was keeping local police busy.
At first, it was building supplies, copper wire and pipes that “walked” away. But as building progressed, computer circuitry quickly followed. There were small burglaries, too. Things lifted when no one was looking, cars vandalized—kid stuff, mostly. But once the little stuff was under control and residents began taking their spaces in the new complex, the snatch-and-grab robberies began, and it was NeoTech’s job to ensure that crime at any level would not be tolerated. Harry intended to make sure his company did its job, but it was exhausting.
Three days of reformatting computer programs, retooling hardware, and climbing through walls and floor spaces took a lot out of a man, especially when the man tried to give his work his undivided attention. Was it only yesterday that undivided attention had become impossible? Harry’s eyes roamed the darkened taxi and the city beyond. His hand went to the back of his neck and rubbed, trying to ease his tension, and he remembered walking the periphery of the Roppongi site, checking his watch again.
“Do you have another appointment?” The man at his side had made his face deliberat
ely blank.
“No.” Yes! “Why do you ask?” Harry was fairly certain he hadn’t been caught daydreaming.
“You have checked your watch at thirty-minute intervals for the whole of this day,” Yamada Taro said carefully. His eyes didn’t miss much; anyone who knew him could tell you that.
“I apologize. I have been a bit preoccupied.”
Yamada pulled at his hard hat, and then pressed his lips into a thin line. “Is she pretty?”
Harry blinked when Yamada kept his face expressionless. Am I that obvious?
“And now you wonder if you are that obvious.” Taro bowed his head slightly and smiled. “Yes, Haru, you are. This woman and how you feel about her are new for you, and you have not yet learned how to hide your feelings about her. As my children would say, I ain’t mad at you.”
Harry laughed softly. “Okay, no more MTV for your kids.”
Taro’s eyes twinkled when they met Harry’s. “I fear it is BET that has infected them.” He compressed his smile. “Do you have a picture of the lady?”
I kept it to myself. In his cab rolling along I-75 in Atlanta, Harry’s fingers kneaded the back of his neck and he chuckled softly at the memory. I still can’t believe I even lied to my mother about not having a picture of Bianca. I didn’t even want to share her name. My mother would have run right out to the nearest fortune teller to find out if this one was destined to be her daughter-in-law.
“Nope, sorry.” Harry heard himself say the words and hoped the older man wouldn’t read the lie in his voice or on his face. He had pictures. Of course he had pictures of them together. They had been taken on his phone by a stranger at the airport and he didn’t want to share them. He didn’t want to share the three he’d taken himself, using his phone when Bianca was unaware. He’d spent a good deal of his flight time on the way to Tokyo playing with those three pictures, cropping and shading them until they were three perfect shots of her face. Sharing them would have been a violation, and he had no intention of doing that.
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