"You were only fourteen," she countered. "You probably would have been killed had you gotten there earlier, and then I would be dead and so would Ryuu. You gave me back my family. Osamu had convinced me I was left on the street. Unwanted. A female devil child bringing bad luck to anyone I encountered. She told me my mother was a whore and that I had gotten into a car, taken it out of gear and run over Ryuu. I know now that isn't the truth. I wasn't the one to hurt him."
He erupted into another long litany of very angry foul language while he jerked the thin leather gloves from his hands. "I will be paying Osamu Saito a visit. The world of riders will know exactly what she did as well as the crimes her sons committed. I can't believe she made up such an ugly story. She had to have done it to separate you and your brother."
She'd never had a champion, someone to take her back. She didn't know how to feel without falling apart. She was offering him her body as a canvas, and that meant his rope, an extension of him, would wrap her up. Instead of feeling frightened, she had felt safe in his ropes. Now she knew why. The shadows connecting her to him had allowed her to see him for what he was – a man to be counted on. For whatever reasons, she'd fallen under his protection, and he took that seriously – every bit as seriously as when he was fourteen years old. Maybe more so.
"What would you like me to wear, Ricco?" she murmured softly, hoping to ease the anger in him.
He went still. "Are you certain? I don't want to frighten you. Having you for a rope model is extremely important to me. My sister says I'm very scary at times."
"Your sister is right," she admitted, "but you don't scare me."
He raised an eyebrow.
She couldn't help but smile. "You intimidate me, which isn't the same thing, and only because I'm out of my element."
Immediately she saw tension drain from his face. He still looked – intimidating – but she knew he would always be that to her. Just a little. Just enough to make it interesting. Still, he'd relaxed. She'd managed to tame the demons that drove him, and that made her feel very, very powerful. Once again, she had his complete focus. Not the past. Not the problems in the present. Just Mariko.
"You aren't out of your element," he corrected. "I like what you have on. Are you comfortable in what you're wearing?"
She'd chosen the red lace because the color made her feel sexy. The silk kimono with the cherry blossoms across it made her feel at home and exquisitely beautiful. She nodded.
He held out a hand to her. She didn't hesitate to put hers in his. His fingers closed around hers. Hard. Warm. He led her from the training hall toward the studio. Already her breath was coming too fast, but it was from excitement, not fear.
"Will you be uncomfortable if I remove the kimono?"
Could his voice be any gentler? Still, it held that soft, low male note that set her blood on fire. How did he do that?
"I couldn't do this with anyone else." She had to tell him that. Making herself so vulnerable was a gift to him. It took courage. More, she feared she was giving him more than her body as a canvas. Somehow, each time he touched her, spoke to her, or their shadows connected, the threads binding them together became stronger than the ropes he tied her with.
"Mariko. I need to know if you'll be comfortable without the kimono. I can bind you either way, but my preference would be without. The rope will leave marks. Not bruises, just marks, but they'll fade quickly."
"I'm fine with that." Who was going to see them? No one. She had no one. She answered to no one. Here, she had a freedom she'd never had before. She felt safe to explore who she was and who she wanted to be as a woman. For just a short while, she was Ricco Ferraro's woman. She was going to live every single second of that time to the absolute fullest.
He traced the nape of her neck beneath the fall of her hair, just ran his finger down it while they walked together. She felt his touch all the way through her body, as if he had an electric coil that shimmered through her veins and arced bright and hot through her bloodstream. He made her feel beautiful, whether she was or not. He obviously thought she was. He stroked her so gently, yet the power of their connection made her feel as if he not only saw through her, but could reach through her skin and touch her soul.
"You don't have to do this. I'm okay now," he murmured as they moved down the hallway.
"I'm doing it for both of us. I'm looking forward to it."
He gave her another one of his smiles. This one lit his eyes for a brief moment and turned her heart over. A reward for her bravery, maybe. Whatever it was, her body responded along with her heart.