would like to see Captain Davin. Is he here?"
"Upstairs, miss. Does he expect you?"
"I think so. He . . . suggested I should come here."
The man nodded, apparently finding nothing odd in the idea that an unaccompanied young woman would call on his employer at his place of business. With the quiet courtesy that was an innate part of the Japanese character, he said, "I will take you up, if you like."
Though she appreciated the offer, Erin shook her head. The pile of papers, ink pots and pens on his desk made it clear he was very busy. "Thank you, but I'm sure I can find the way."
As she climbed the steep steps to the second floor, the seriousness of what she was doing engulfed her. If she failed to convince Storm to return the ships, the entire purpose of her trip to Japan would be for naught.
But even beyond that, she realized that she had never quite managed to give up the dream that someday their love might have another chance. What happened in the next few days would show whether or not that dream had any basis in reality.
She took a deep breath, trying to still the painful racing of her heart. Her palms were damp against the railing and she trembled slightly. Anxiety rippled through her as she reached the head of the stairs and came face to face with Storm.
He stood in front of a large table spread with documents. Sunlight streaming in the window behind him turned his hair to burnished gold and softened the harsh lines of his face.
The white silk shirt he wore was open at the collar to reveal the beginnings of a thick mat of hair covering his powerful chest. Snug black pants tapered from his narrow hips down long, sinewy legs. His feet were planted slightly apart, his arms braced on either side of the paper he was studying.
Another Japanese man, apparently his assistant, was jotting down instructions in a notebook. The flow of orders broke off abruptly when she appeared.
Storm glanced up, catching sight of her at the head of the stairs. A light flared in his quicksilver eyes, only to disappear instantly as his gaze became hooded.
The impact of his presence made Erin forget her resolve to be cool and calm. Her shoulders tensed and a soft flutter spread outward from her stomach. Anything she might have said vanished from her mind. It was all she could do to take the last step up to him.
"That will be all for right now, Ito. We'll finish later." His voice was low and matter-of-fact. Erin envied his composure. She concentrated even more on hiding the effect he had on her.
The Japanese bowed and left. She was hardly aware of his departure. All her attention was focused on Storm. It took her a moment to realize he meant for her to sit down in the chair he had just pulled out.
Her soft wool skirt brushed against him. The contact, slight as it was, startled them both. He moved away quickly, taking a seat across the table from her.
Leaning back in the big chair, he studied her over the bridge of his lean fingers pressed together. "You surprise me. I didn't think you would come here."
More calmly than she would have thought possible, Erin asked, "What choice did I have?"
His eyes narrowed slightly at her matter-of-factness. "None. But I thought it would take you a while longer to acknowledge that."
"There is no point in delaying what we both know has to be faced. You are holding my ships. I want them back."
A lock of hair fell across his forehead. He brushed it away impatiently. "You don't believe in wasting any time, do you?"
"I have none to waste. Unless I can outfit the ships soon and take a cargo back to the States, my family's business will cease to exist."
A sardonic smile curved the mouth she could still feel against her own. "Would that be so terrible?"
"Not to you, certainly. But I'm proud of the heritage passed down to me by generations of Conroys. I don't want to lose it all simply because my uncle was a profligate wastrel."
"That would be Uncle Bates, wouldn't it? I seem to remember him. He drank
"Upstairs, miss. Does he expect you?"
"I think so. He . . . suggested I should come here."
The man nodded, apparently finding nothing odd in the idea that an unaccompanied young woman would call on his employer at his place of business. With the quiet courtesy that was an innate part of the Japanese character, he said, "I will take you up, if you like."
Though she appreciated the offer, Erin shook her head. The pile of papers, ink pots and pens on his desk made it clear he was very busy. "Thank you, but I'm sure I can find the way."
As she climbed the steep steps to the second floor, the seriousness of what she was doing engulfed her. If she failed to convince Storm to return the ships, the entire purpose of her trip to Japan would be for naught.
But even beyond that, she realized that she had never quite managed to give up the dream that someday their love might have another chance. What happened in the next few days would show whether or not that dream had any basis in reality.
She took a deep breath, trying to still the painful racing of her heart. Her palms were damp against the railing and she trembled slightly. Anxiety rippled through her as she reached the head of the stairs and came face to face with Storm.
He stood in front of a large table spread with documents. Sunlight streaming in the window behind him turned his hair to burnished gold and softened the harsh lines of his face.
The white silk shirt he wore was open at the collar to reveal the beginnings of a thick mat of hair covering his powerful chest. Snug black pants tapered from his narrow hips down long, sinewy legs. His feet were planted slightly apart, his arms braced on either side of the paper he was studying.
Another Japanese man, apparently his assistant, was jotting down instructions in a notebook. The flow of orders broke off abruptly when she appeared.
Storm glanced up, catching sight of her at the head of the stairs. A light flared in his quicksilver eyes, only to disappear instantly as his gaze became hooded.
The impact of his presence made Erin forget her resolve to be cool and calm. Her shoulders tensed and a soft flutter spread outward from her stomach. Anything she might have said vanished from her mind. It was all she could do to take the last step up to him.
"That will be all for right now, Ito. We'll finish later." His voice was low and matter-of-fact. Erin envied his composure. She concentrated even more on hiding the effect he had on her.
The Japanese bowed and left. She was hardly aware of his departure. All her attention was focused on Storm. It took her a moment to realize he meant for her to sit down in the chair he had just pulled out.
Her soft wool skirt brushed against him. The contact, slight as it was, startled them both. He moved away quickly, taking a seat across the table from her.
Leaning back in the big chair, he studied her over the bridge of his lean fingers pressed together. "You surprise me. I didn't think you would come here."
More calmly than she would have thought possible, Erin asked, "What choice did I have?"
His eyes narrowed slightly at her matter-of-factness. "None. But I thought it would take you a while longer to acknowledge that."
"There is no point in delaying what we both know has to be faced. You are holding my ships. I want them back."
A lock of hair fell across his forehead. He brushed it away impatiently. "You don't believe in wasting any time, do you?"
"I have none to waste. Unless I can outfit the ships soon and take a cargo back to the States, my family's business will cease to exist."
A sardonic smile curved the mouth she could still feel against her own. "Would that be so terrible?"
"Not to you, certainly. But I'm proud of the heritage passed down to me by generations of Conroys. I don't want to lose it all simply because my uncle was a profligate wastrel."
"That would be Uncle Bates, wouldn't it? I seem to remember him. He drank
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