Free Samurai Game by Christine Feehan

that fact at great length, Daiki and Eiji persuading her that because of her past and the job they all knew they would ultimately undertake, it would be better to keep her out of the spotlight. She had agreed.
    More than once, there had been attempts to hack into their computers. Thieves had tried breaking into their building and infiltrating their ranks numerous times. This attack on them might not have anything at all to do with Whitney. He had no idea she was alive. He hadn’t even bothered with the tracking device she knew he’d placed in many of the other girls. She hadn’t been important enough to track. She’d been nothing but garbage to him and he’d thrown her out.
    Sam puzzled over Azami. She appeared completely serene in the midst of blood and death, but she wasn’t. He couldn’t put his finger on what was wrong any more than he could have explained why he was so certain that it was Azami Yoshiie and not either of her brothers who was the most intelligent, the most dangerous, and the leader of the three, but his gut never lied to him.
    From the moment she was near him, every nerve ending in his body had gone on alert, every sense seemed heightened. He was very aware of the wind in the trees—the smoke drifting through the canopy and the sound of insects ceasing to their right. A wave of silence suddenly descended once again, spreading around them. He dropped low, signaling to her as he would his men, an automatic reaction before his brain registered that she was a civilian and wouldn’t recognize the need for silence and to go to ground. He turned his head and found she was in position, bow and arrow at the ready.
    In that one swift glance over his shoulder, he found every detail of her imprinted on his mind. The scent of her drifting with the wind, a fresh, citrusy smell that teased his senses. The way the breeze slipped fingers into her thick, shiny hair, feeding a need to do the same just to feel the silky strands against his bare skin. He knew it was insane to be in the middle of a combat situation and be so completely captivated by the way the light played over her flawless skin and brought attention to the outrageous long lashes surrounding her cat’s eyes.
    It was just a little bit sick to be so completely taken with her just because she was a warrior woman. She appeared demure and even introverted—not at all the type of woman to appeal to him. Sam wanted a woman with her own opinions, one with complete confidence in herself as a sexy, intelligent female, not some yes-person who agreed with everything he said. He wanted more than a physical attraction and, unfortunately, his relationships never seemed to last beyond the first date. He’d never considered a female soldier—not once—when he’d thought about a partner, but Azami Yoshiie was damned sexy with a bow and arrow in her hands and that composed, serene look on her face.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    Her voice sang in his veins as if tuned specifically to his body. He turned away from her as a thought crossed his mind. Was he too tuned to her? Was there something else at work? He shook his head, thankful his back was to her. His thoughts were too outrageous to be considered—but on the other hand, Whitney had paired male and female soldiers together using pheromones and some sort of a virus that reacted in the brain to create paths bonding mates to one another.
    He took his time examining the terrain around them. Something was out there—and coming toward them, not in the vehicle that seemed to be going away from them. An amateur trick. He had been leading Azami toward the next bunker, hidden a good twenty feet beneath the earth, intending to get her out of danger and under wraps where the enemy had no chance to acquire or kill her on his watch. Daiki Yoshiie’s sister might be worth secrets to the billionaire. He was certain they were cut off from the bunker he’d been trying to get to.
    “What do your names mean? Azami is pretty.