Samurai Game

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Book: Read Samurai Game for Free Online
Authors: Christine Feehan
Tags: Fiction, General, Romance, Paranormal
and held by multiple ornate pins, with several long silky strands tumbling to her shoulders and down her back, an invitation for a man to want to take all those pins out just to see that mass of black hair cascade to her waist.
    She looked young and innocent and fresh, almost as if she’d been secreted away in a convent her entire childhood and was just coming out into the world for the first time. She appeared quite traditional and far too young for a man as weathered and hardened as he was, with her downcast eyes and long, feathery lashes. His heart slammed hard in his chest and his blood rushed hot through his veins. He kept an expressionless face, grateful for the years of training. He’d never been so aware of anyone in his life.
    “I’m Sam Johnson.” He didn’t offer his hand, but bowed a second time, this time to her—that small woman who packed such a punch he felt her like an electrical current running through his bloodstream.
    The taller of the two men stepped forward with a slight bow. “I am Daiki Yoshiie. This is my brother, Eiji, and my sister, Azami Yoshiie.”
    The woman cast her eyes to the ground, but not before he saw something dark and intelligent swirling there. In one brief glance, she had appeared to take in everything about her surroundings. When she bowed, she looked more a regal princess than the demure woman walking two steps behind the powerful men who ran Samurai Telecommunications.
    Sam studied the trio without appearing to do so. He was good at sizing up the enemy, which was exactly why he’d been sent to pick up the three VIPs. Outsiders were rarely allowed inside the compound. The risk of allowing anyone inside where security precautions could be determined was great, but they needed these people and, after all, they were computer nerds—right? His radar had gone off the moment he approached them, and he had no idea why. They looked exactly as they had in every news report and interview they’d done, yet they gave off some strange vibe that set the hair on the back of his neck up just like hackles.
    Sam watched the way they moved, that easy flow across the ground. Perfect balance, feet under shoulders, rolling muscles. Even the woman—as small as she was—had that same flow of a fighter. Whoever these people were, they were not just computer nerds. They didn’t spend days and nights in front of a screen or sitting in a chair. Yet even that could be accounted for. Their father had been a famed swordsman and ran a school training students in martial arts. It would stand to reason that all three would be skilled, but his gut didn’t accept the explanation.
    Possible Charlie. He raised the alarm reluctantly, sending the alert to his two team members lying up on the rooftops, both armed and very dangerous.
    It was the woman whose gaze jumped to his face. She felt that small pulse of energy where neither man had. That meant . . . Sam refused to look away from her. This woman had secrets, and it was up to him to protect the two GhostWalker teams and their families relying on his judgment. She aroused his interest; more than that, she intrigued him, but the safety of the compound came first, and she definitely was far more than she appeared with her business suit and her demure expression. A man could get trapped in those dark, liquid eyes, so velvet soft and inviting, filled with intelligence and piercingly bright. Her dark eyes slipped from his gaze and shifted toward the rooftops. Oh, yeah, she was sharp, this one.
    What had she missed? Thorn took another slow, careful sweep of the airport and the outlying buildings. Nothing seemed out of place, but Sam was not alone and he’d definitely communicated telepathically with someone else. The spike in the electrical current had been sharp, a certain sign of psychic energy. Although it had been far too long since she’d felt such a surge, there was no way she didn’t recognize it. She’d spent a good portion of her childhood feeling

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