CHAPTER SEVEN

Ken looked terrific. That was Tam's first thought when he walked through the high-security inner doors to greet her. He was square shouldered and sturdy, with high, full cheeks, expensively trimmed dark hair, and a small, delicate mouth. She figured him for late forties, early fifties. Funny, but he'd always reminded her of one of those steely eyed, expensively dressed actors you saw playing executives on the Japanese soaps.

"Tamara!" He paused abruptly, then bowed. "Ikaga desu

ka?”

"Okagesama de genki desu. Anata wa?'

"Doing well, thanks. You never cease to amaze me. What a marvelous surprise." A smile attempted to break through his dark eyes. "You've surfaced again, just like the Sword."

She'd forgotten how colloquial his English was. Then she recalled he'd told her once about doing his doctorate at MIT. Possibly because of that he could be either Japanese or Western, chameleon-like, as the backdrop required. He was every bit the charmer she remembered from Kyoto.