Star-Crossed(72)
“No,” Romeo said evenly. “I’m not wearing it to impress people.”
“It’s impressing me,” Jules admitted, feeling the hot flush of desire rise from the back of her neck and warm her cheeks. “It’s turning me on. Big-time. ” 184
“Well, that’s not why I put it on,” Romeo admitted, just a hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “I wore it as your sensei, a symbol of my hard work so you’d know I’m worthy of your trust and respect my guidance.”
“Oh, okay,” Jules said, smiling so broadly her cheeks hurts. “Is that the reason?”
“It is,” Romeo assured her, sounding like the calm, confident sensei he was portraying.
Jules laughed. “So we’re really playing this game?”
“If we’re connecting on this mat, if we’re sparring and showing each other what we’re capable of,” Romeo started, his voice still even and strong, “then it’s not really a game, is it? It’s real.”
Jules quirked an eyebrow at him. “Would you have worn that belt if I was the sensei tonight?”
“You’re not.”
“But what if I was?”
“You’re not,” Romeo reminded her more firmly. “I am. Now close your eyes.
Breathe. Center yourself if you’re not focused.”
“I’m definitely not focused,” Jules admitted as Romeo closed his eyes. She used the opportunity to study him boldly, fantasizing about untying that red-and-white belt and pulling those white gi pants down to see if he was as much of a traditionalist as he was implying. “Are you commando?”
“Juliet,” he said, the edge of anger sounding in his voice, as if the old Romeo was peeking past the calm exterior he’d donned. “I’ve been watching you display your strength and power in this building for three weeks. I’ve admired you every single time.
Don’t make tonight be the battle that leaves me disappointed.” She straightened and glared at him, clearly hearing both the challenge and the reprimand. Romeo had a pretty red-and-white belt, that was true, but Jules was just a
185
few stripes away from that unique honor, and she wasn’t going to let him affect her confidence.
Jules deliberately got up and sat next to him as an equal, not a student.
In seisa position like him, she closed her eyes and searched for her focus. She willed away the exhaustion that was bone-deep by eleven o’clock at night after getting up at five that morning. She pushed past the sizzle of attraction that was always electric between them and searched for her core strength, that gift from her father.
Her arm twitched when she started to feel that reserve of power that let her go the distance, but Romeo broke through her barriers, his voice oddly gentle.
“Not yet,” he instructed softly but with authority. “Calm, even breaths. I’ll tell you when you’re ready.”
Then he started counting for her, not in English or Italian. He did it in Japanese, and something about the flow and rhythm of the numbers resonated through her, reminding her of days gone past when so much of the ritual had been important. When she’d been working and striving toward the Olympic team and every aspect of the art had absorbed her because Jules didn’t know how to do something halfway.
She suddenly felt lighter. Finding strength from a different place than genetics as Romeo counted to twenty in Japanese and then counted backward, evening out Jules’s breathing. She could feel a timeless energy, one that never waned, never died. What was usually an untapped resource started to flower and bloom inside her, soft and gentle rather the usual brute force she was used to. All the while it was Romeo’s voice fueling the gentle fire that welled up around her, making her feel strong on a different level.
Despite preparing to fight him, Jules started to sense a bond with Romeo that was deeper than sex and companionship. Sitting so close, she could swear she felt the warmth of him, like a caress, as if his soul was reaching out to hers and actually touching it. It was distinctive enough to be startling, but comforting enough to keep her balanced.
186
Jules wasn’t certain how much time had passed; it ceased to matter. All she knew was that when Romeo announced, “Now,” she felt ready and very focused.
She jumped to her feet and faced Romeo, who was studying her intently, making her feel grateful for the attention. She did feel like a student now, a cherished one who was connected to her sensei. When they bowed to each other, Jules did it reverently, eyes locked on her opponent, and then let loose on him just like he wanted.
Jules kicked him with intent, every ounce of her being focused on knocking him off his feet, but he deflected her moves effortlessly. Undeterred, she tried to sweep his feet out from under him, but he sidestepped her before she could. She brought her hand around to catch him in the neck, but he blocked her with a hard sweep of his arm that would have been painful if she hadn’t been so fixated on the dance they were doing.