Aim For Love (13 page)

“Is this where you trained?”

He shook his head. “I trained out there, in the circle we were standing in.”

“Was that your grandfather’s?” She pointed to the sword.

“Yes. And now it’s mine. The owner of the sword takes on the vows and responsibilities of the previous owner. That’s why these shouldn’t be collected as they are, shut away and never used.”

“What do you use it for?” She’d seen the movies—the swords were weapons, used in battle.

“I use it to train my body. And in ritual, to train my mind.”

“I’d like to see that,” she said, knowing she shouldn’t be asking. It was the same as if he’d asked her to act on cue. But she wanted to see him wield the sword.

“Consider it part of your training,” he said, surprising her.

He bowed before removing the sword from its bracket and slipping it out of the case that covered the blade. He then bowed again to the portrait of his grandfather.

She followed him out to the smooth gravel circle.

“This sword was forged in the traditional way, maybe three hundred years ago. The sword you have at Trovare is even older.”

He raised the sword and moved it with an
S
-like motion, sweeping it over his head and then back down to his waist. If she didn’t know better, she’d have thought that he and the sword were one entity. No stuntman she’d seen had ever moved like Kaz. And though she and Alex had often sparred with fencing foils, had both competed and won awards when they were younger, they’d never moved with the focused calm and efficient motion that Kaz displayed.

“Now you try it.”

He held the sword out to her, the hilt resting in one palm and the tip end in the other.

She took the sword from him. It wasn’t as heavy as it looked, maybe three pounds.

“The sword is said to hold the soul of the samurai who wields it. Put your soul into it, Sabrina.”

She raised the sword with both hands and whirled. The sword, though not heavy, drew her full circle, as if it had a life of its own. But more astonishing, she realized she’d raised her injured arm.
Used
her injured arm.

Giddy with joy, she lowered the sword and hugged Kaz. “Alex was right: you
are
a wizard.” She tilted her face to look up at him, felt his heart beating against her chest.

He didn’t pull away. His heartbeat raced, matching her own. What had begun as a joyous, spontaneous hug had quickly changed. His eyes searched hers.

She rose to her tiptoes, wrapped her free arm around his neck and drew his head toward hers.

And relived the kiss from her dream.

He slid one hand down her arm and freed the sword from her hand. Then he wrapped both his arms around her back. She felt the hilt of the sword press into the small of her back as he pulled her closer, as he teased her lips open and tasted, his tongue stroking a trail of heat and fire. She began to tremble, but she wasn’t cold. He moved his hands to her waist, and the blade of the sword pressed against her hip. He broke the kiss, steadied her and pulled away.

“I apologize,” he said, shoving his free hand into his hair and taking another step back.

“You don’t need to apologize for something as sweet as that,” she said.

Kaz sheathed the sword.

Sweet
? His balls were rocked nearly to his teeth and she called it sweet? One of them was deluded. Likely it was him. He shouldn’t have kissed her. He’d crossed a boundary he’d sworn he wouldn’t.

The sound of the gong reverberated from the house, which meant his grandmother had returned a day early. Maybe she’d seen them and sounding the gong was her face-saving way of announcing her return.

Sabrina hadn’t moved. Her eyes were glassy, her lips red. He resisted the urge to kiss her again. He’d known she’d be trouble, but not this kind of trouble. She tested him in ways he’d never anticipated.

“We should head back to the house. You are about to meet my grandmother.”

Sabrina smiled. It was a smile he had no idea how to read, but if the fire in his groin meant anything, he’d better put some distance between them. Fast.

“Like I said, we should head back.”

He strode into the shrine, aware of her watching him. He placed the sword back in its bracket and then together they walked silently back up the path. About a hundred yards from the house, he stopped.

“Sabrina. What happened back there… It shouldn’t have happened. If you don’t want to work with me anymore, I understand. Maybe stopping now would be best.”

“You’re kidding, right? I can move my arm, Kaz.
Move it
.” She raised her arm above her head. “I don’t know what it is you’re doing, but there’s no way I’m quitting now.”

He didn’t want to tell her that breaking through the bodily layer of her problem was only the first step. Something else held her, some force he didn’t understand, a force she’d have to be much more prepared for if she wanted to face it and stand it down. But she was so happy in the moment that telling her what lay ahead could wait.

She jammed her hands to her hips. “And besides,” she said, peeking up at him from under her lashes, “
I
initiated that kiss. The responsibility for that isn’t on you.”

The energy that had passed between them wouldn’t be curbed by intentions and the assignment of responsibility. If she didn’t change her mind and they continued their work, he’d have to be on guard. He knew the power that working with the body could unfurl. She didn’t.

Over Sabrina’s shoulder, Kaz saw his grandmother standing on the porch near the gong. Watching him. Watching them.

“We should head up.” He nodded toward the porch.

“You’re back early,” Kaz said with a slight bow when they reached the steps. “This is Sabrina Tavonesi. Sabrina, this is my grandmother.”

His grandmother bowed, and Sabrina bowed in turn.

“I think I’m getting too old to sit on those cushions at the retreat, Kazi-san. The spirit might not age, but bones have a way of telling time. Two days of meditation will have to do.” She glanced to Sabrina. “Your friend must be hungry. I saw that you haven’t prepared anything for lunch.”

Her polite manner covered her disturbance, but Kaz knew she’d seen them kissing; the truth was in her voice.

“I thought cereal topped with noodles might do,” he said in a humorous tone, trying to break the tension.

To her credit, Sabrina laughed.

“I’ll have lunch ready in half an hour, Kazi.” Obaa-chan turned to Sabrina. “Would you like to help me?”

Great. Obaa-chan might be traditional and old-fashioned, but she was also nosy as hell.

Sabrina followed Kaz’s grandmother into the kitchen. Dressed in dark traditional Japanese garb, she looked like she was from another world, another time. And she instructed Sabrina much as Kaz had, with the same gentle directing tone, only without the flooding energy he stirred.

Sabrina touched her fingers to her lips. Though she’d initiated the kiss, she hadn’t been in any way prepared for the tumbling feeling in her heart that accompanied the swift shot of pleasure. Being touched by him seemed like sensual sorcery. But her touching him? Before her lips met his, she’d never imagined the power of such a kiss. Sure, she’d listened to the breathless tales of her girlfriends and cousins. And had thought all along she’d experienced the sort of kisses they were describing. She’d been wrong. Very wrong.

“When you finish, just put those onions in one of these bowls.”

Kaz’s grandmother’s voice interrupted her thoughts. She was still getting used to the elderly woman’s very formal British accent.

Sabrina held the knife and stared at the blade. A Japanese character was inscribed near the handle. She grasped the green onion and set the knife to it. And turned over in her mind questions about the mysterious power of the kiss she and Kaz had shared.

“Miss Tavonesi?”

The old lady’s gaze bored into Sabrina, and Sabrina blushed. But to her relief, Kaz’s grandmother simply scraped the onion pieces into an exquisite raku bowl in the middle of the polished wood counter and then handed Sabrina some mushrooms.

“Thin slices, Miss Tavonesi. Like this.”

With a deftness Sabrina could only imagine perfecting, the woman’s  aged hands produced thin and perfect slices of neatly stacked mushrooms.

“Please call me Sabrina.”

She nodded. “And you may call me Obaa.” She narrowed her piercing gaze. “Kazi tells me you have a problem.”

Sabrina stopped slicing.

“He’s helping me with my arm,” she answered quickly. “I was…injured.”

“I saw the magazines at the grocery store. You were attacked.”

“Sort of.”

“If that’s
sort of,
I would not want to experience the real thing.”

Obaa emptied perfect cubes of tofu into a bowl and then peered at Sabrina.

“Yet I think your problem is perhaps more than just the pain in your arm.”

Sabrina didn’t like the unsettled feeling that coursed through her as Obaa held her in her gaze. It was as if Kaz’s wrinkled old grandmother were delving directly into her soul, seeing something there that Sabrina had yet to acknowledge, hadn’t sought to understand.

Kaz strode into the kitchen. “Don’t let her razz you.” He took the knife from Sabrina. “Or use you as slave labor. That’s what she has me for.”

He cut the mushrooms into perfect uniform slices. Seeing Kaz teasing and working beside his grandmother made Sabrina like him more. Maybe too much.

When the miso soup was ready, they sat down to eat at the kitchen table.

“Tell me about the movie Kaz tells me you are preparing to make,” Obaa said.

Sabrina realized she hadn’t thought about her film role since she’d arrived at the farm.

“It’s a story about a woman who falls into a dream and until she faces and battles the dark forces she meets there, she can’t escape and return to her normal life.”

Obaa raised a brow, looked over at Kaz and then back to Sabrina. Whatever message passed between them, she couldn’t read.

“What else do you do?”

“This isn’t a game show,” Kaz said as he poured Obaa another cup of green tea.

“I’m
interested
. And she’s the most interesting person we’ve had around here for months. All
you
talk about is baseball, baseball, baseball. I know you love it, but I’d like to hear about Sabrina.” She eyed Kaz and added, “And what happened to
respect and defer to your elders
?”

She smiled at Kaz, and he grinned back.

Eskimos might have a hundred words for snow, but evidently the Japanese had a hundred ways to smile. A hundred ways that they alone knew how to interpret.

Obaa turned back to Sabrina. “What else do you do in your life?”

“I’m on the board of an organization that rescues abused donkeys.”

Obaa’s face wrinkled with her frown. “Why would anyone abuse a donkey? They’re the sweetest and most loyal creatures.” Her gaze softened and she took on a faraway look. “But then, humans can be mean, can’t they?”

“Anytime you value one life over another, it’s a slippery slope,” Sabrina said. “That’s how something like Auschwitz can happen, or internment camps and wars and—” She stopped. She’d forgotten that Kaz had told her his family had been interned during the war.

Obaa reached out and tapped her fingers to Sabrina’s arm. She wore no rings or bracelets. Her only ornament was a finely carved hair comb tucked into the bun at the top of her head. “It’s all right, Sabrina. I am here now and those memories are far behind me.”

“I’m so sorry.”

“You were not the one to herd us from our homes and lock us away. Take us from our land. But you know the worst thing? Did Kaz tell you the worst thing?”

Sabrina shook her head. Kaz sat back in his chair. He may have heard this story a hundred times, but Sabrina wanted to hear it, needed to hear it.

“Our trees nearly died. If a couple of our neighbors hadn’t realized that we’d been taken, if they hadn’t turned on the irrigation, we would have lost everything.”

“Prejudice is a blurry lens,” Sabrina said, backpedaling and wishing she hadn’t brought up such a sensitive subject. “You don’t really see a person. It’s dangerous to both the person who holds it and the person being misperceived.”