Then he reached for her key and opened the door. The minute they entered the sitting room of her suite, he took her in his arms.
"Tam, let's not talk anymore about business, no more Swords. I'm already bored hearing about it. Just us. What do you say?"
"Agreed." She looked at him and suddenly realized something. Ken Asano was beautiful, kirei. Not handsome, beautiful. Anata wa kirei desu, Kenji Asano. "Want a nightcap? There's some airport Remy in my—"
"Who could even think about another cognac. I just want to think about us." He stood back. "All right, maybe if you insist. For old times' sake."
"'Old times' is right, Ken. It's been a very long time since Kyoto." She located the dark Remy bottle, still packed in her leather flight bag. A nice inauguration, she told herself. "What was that all about? Was it real? Or did I just imagine it all?"
"The heart never lies." He settled on the couch. "Do you really remember?"
"Vividly." She laughed as she poured an inch into each of two thin hotel tumblers. "Including that dreadful bar you took us all to."
"A glimpse of the real Japan, Tam, for our tourist friends. Show them it's not all ikebana and haiku. Believe me, it's not." He clicked her glass. "Do try to forgive me. And here's to us."
"To us."
"And to the slightly scary world we're stumbling into. Japan needs you here." He pulled her next to him and brushed her cheek lightly with his fingertips. Then he kissed her deeply on the mouth, and again. "/ need you here, Tam. Somebody like you. There's . . . well, there's a lot we could do together."