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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 femalesoldier—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. Does it have a pretty meaning?” All GhostWalker women, females Whitney had taken from orphanages around the world and experimented on, had been given the names of flowers or seasons. Whitney had dehumanized them, not even allowing them to know their own birth dates. Azami Yoshiie couldn’t possibly be one of those girls, but his body was too attracted and she raised such an alert, his radar shrieking at him. Something was off somewhere. He kept his tone very casual and very low, projecting his voice solely to her, as if they were discussing the weather and the topic didn’t matter at all.
“My name can be interpreted as heart of the thistle or flower of the thistle. In any case, my father thought the namewas pretty.” She kept her voice equally hushed. There was affection for her adopted father in her voice.
Sam didn’t make the mistake of turning around, but his heart rate jumped, just for a moment at the word “flower.” “And your brothers?”
“Eiji can be interpreted as two protectors.”
“A good name for a bodyguard,” Sam commented. “And Daiki?”
She laughed softly and he did turn, the sound was intriguing and musical. He could listen to that sound forever. She was still ready, the bow and arrow waiting, but her eyes were soft with memories.
“Daiki means great tree. Even as a young boy he was big.” She hesitated. “We tease him about being so powerful and great, but his name can also mean noble, and just between the two of us, so he doesn’t get a big head, I secretly think his name says who he really is.”
The
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 femalesoldier—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. Does it have a pretty meaning?” All GhostWalker women, females Whitney had taken from orphanages around the world and experimented on, had been given the names of flowers or seasons. Whitney had dehumanized them, not even allowing them to know their own birth dates. Azami Yoshiie couldn’t possibly be one of those girls, but his body was too attracted and she raised such an alert, his radar shrieking at him. Something was off somewhere. He kept his tone very casual and very low, projecting his voice solely to her, as if they were discussing the weather and the topic didn’t matter at all.
“My name can be interpreted as heart of the thistle or flower of the thistle. In any case, my father thought the namewas pretty.” She kept her voice equally hushed. There was affection for her adopted father in her voice.
Sam didn’t make the mistake of turning around, but his heart rate jumped, just for a moment at the word “flower.” “And your brothers?”
“Eiji can be interpreted as two protectors.”
“A good name for a bodyguard,” Sam commented. “And Daiki?”
She laughed softly and he did turn, the sound was intriguing and musical. He could listen to that sound forever. She was still ready, the bow and arrow waiting, but her eyes were soft with memories.
“Daiki means great tree. Even as a young boy he was big.” She hesitated. “We tease him about being so powerful and great, but his name can also mean noble, and just between the two of us, so he doesn’t get a big head, I secretly think his name says who he really is.”
The
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