His dark head bent over her as he worked patiently with a pair of tiny tweezers which should have been too small for his hands.
When he was finished, he brushed his thumb lightly over the mark his teeth had left. “I’m so sorry. I shouldn’t have been so rough.”
“It’s fine,” she assured him. “It doesn’t even hurt. Neither do my hands, actually. I wanted you to be as rough with me as you were. It felt good. Felt right.”
Despite her words, his frown remained as he grabbed a roll of gauze from the kit. After dabbing a bit of ointment on her palms, he began to wrap it around her hand. “That bruise on your arm…”
She gave a rough sigh. “That’s from my dad.”
He didn’t explode or rail or scream, but merely paused for a second. When he spoke, the lack of emotion in his voice was chilling. “I’m going to kill him.”
She peered down at him, a wee bit alarmed. “Don’t. He’s not worth it.”
“He doesn’t get to put his hands on you. No one does.”
“You do. I mean, you can,” she assured him, so hastily she might find it comical if her potentially stupendous future sex life wasn’t on the line. God forbid Jacob regressed into his shyness over enjoying the rough and tumble treatment they both needed. She was already thoroughly addicted to his gentleman-in-the-streets-freak-in-the-sheets vibe.
Akira had a feeling they’d barely scratched the surface of his freakiness. She suppressed a shudder.
He didn’t acknowledge her words, his gaze hard. “Do you want to kill him? I can help you plan it out. That’s kind of my thing.”
“I can’t tell if you’re serious or not, but it’s turning me on a little,” she admitted.
A glimpse of humor flitted across his face, but he sobered quickly. “I’m dead serious.”
“I don’t want to kill him.” She paused. “Unless he crosses me again. Then I will destroy him. Financially, at least. Which is probably worse, in his eyes, than actually killing him.”
“Good.”
“You think I can do it?”
“I know you can. He’s no match for you.” His quiet confidence in her made her chest hurt. “But if you need me…I’m still happy to kill him.”
Her smile was wobbly.
“Akira, I—”
“I’m sorry I left you that morning.”
He huffed out a breath and looked down, securing the gauze on one hand, then the other. The old cuckoo clock on the wall ticked. “That’s okay.”
“No, it’s not. I shouldn’t have.”
His lips softened. “Really. It’s okay.”
She flexed her bandaged hand, all her thoughts swirling in her brain. Their past, their present, their future. If they had a future. They had to have one, right?
That was what the signs were pointing to, but she was a business woman first, and she trusted nothing until the deal was formally closed, every single potential vulnerability addressed. “The note you left… Could you really love me?”
He froze. His hands went to the arms of her chair, as if to steady himself.
When he didn’t speak for a long moment, butterflies danced in her belly. “Are you going to make me beg?”
His mouth worked. “You would beg?”
“Yeah. I’d really be pissed off about it.” She scowled, her ire already building at the thought of compromising her pride. This was a small price to pay, though. “But I’d do it.”
He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Yes.”
