be shown to the room.
“What was that about?” Niamh asked as they got on the elevator.
“Bran had us booked into two rooms. I changed it to one. I’ll sleep on the sofa.”
“I’d prefer my own room.”
Kiyo worked hard to beat down that growl again. “The last time you had your own room, you took off.”
“So I’m being held hostage?”
If she’d snapped at him in anger, he could have handled it. But her dull, emotionless tone irritated him. “No. But in case you didn’t notice, I have enemies here, and by association, you’re in danger. Not to mention the vision you keep having that brought us here in the first place.”
“I hardly think Sakura is your enemy,” she muttered as the elevator opened.
Following the room signs, Kiyo stopped at their door and swiped a key over the lock.
When they pushed inside, he heard Niamh let out a gasp of wonder, and satisfaction filled him.
They stood in a living room with a huge sectional that looked comfortable enough for him to sleep on. It was stylish, minimal but warm, with the same Japanese midcentury design as the lobby. The most impressive aspect of the room was the wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling window at one end where not only did they have amazing views of Tokyo but on a clear day like today, they could see the snow-covered Mount Fuji in the distance.
Niamh moved past him, striding across the room to stand at the window.
He followed, closing in beside her, subconsciously needing to be close to her scent of caramel and spice.
It felt like they were floating above the city.
“What does the hotel name mean?”
“Natsukashii?”
“Yes.”
“Technically it means nostalgia.”
“That’s beautiful. The hotel, this room … it’s beautiful. You booked this?”
“The room, yeah. Thought you might appreciate the view.”
Just like that, the light in her gorgeous eyes dimmed, and she turned and walked away. She picked up her backpack where she’d dropped it upon entrance and strolled through the open sliding doors that led into the bedroom.
His patience snapped.
He followed her in.
The room was long and narrow, with a mammoth bed and dual-aspect windows overlooking the city. Behind him was the door to a polished marble bathroom with a shower big enough for five people and a tub a person could swim in. He studied Niamh as she wandered into the bathroom, fingers trailing across walls and counters, before returning to brush past him. Without a word, she dropped her backpack on the bed and stared out at the city.
“Is this how it’s going to be from now on?”
“How what’s going to be?”
The growl he’d been holding back rumbled out, drawing her attention. Finally. “What the hell is going on with you? Are you pissed because I didn’t tell you about the pack, about Sakura, before we came here?”
“It might have been good to know so we could have avoided an ambush, but I’m not pissed about anything.”
“You’re something. You’ve barely said a word to me since we got off the plane.”
Her eyes narrowed and the flash of anger in them perversely delighted him. “You made it clear when you woke up on the plane that you didn’t want us to be friends. I’m only following your lead.”
At the hurt he heard in her voice, the hurt she tried to hide, Kiyo took a step toward her, his voice gentle as he replied, “Niamh, it isn’t personal. I just don’t have friends.”
“Lies. Fionn is your friend. Conall’s father and grandfather were obviously your friends. Not to mention Sakura seemed pretty friendly for an enemy …” She pushed up off the bed and her look of disappointment bothered him. “And it’s always personal when someone doesn’t think you’re worthy of friendship.”
“Of course you’re worthy of friendship.” His anger grew at her disappointment in him. “And do I have to remind you that I’ve told you things I haven’t told anyone?”
“Things you obviously regretted telling me by the very fact you woke up acting like a cold bastard.”
He sighed, running a hand through his hair that was coming loose from the top knot. “I don’t regret telling you about my mother if it helped you.” Kiyo tried to find the words that would soften the impact of what he said next. “But I didn’t want you to think my telling you meant something.”
It was the exact wrong thing to say.
As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he knew it.
Hurt flashed in Niamh’s ocean eyes and was quickly chased by anger.
They stared at each other in silence