To Honor: Vampire Assassin League #22 Read Online Free PDF

stretching the truth slightly, but what Nigel had told him was probably in paperwork somewhere.
    “Paperwork?”
    Her brows dropped. Her expression changed. She no longer looked remotely open and friendly. She looked wary. And a little frightened. The chilled feeling came back with a rush that startled him. It radiated from somewhere in his midst. Pounding outward from there with every beat of his newly regenerated heart.
    “Forgive me. I should have offered refreshment. Would you like tea?”
    “Tea?”
    Takeshi rose in his usual, almost-invisible slide of motion and was at the galley the next moment. The jet was still angled for the ascent. He had no trouble compensating. He’d prepared the two tea sets beforehand. One was for daily use; the other handled the tea ceremony or chanoyu. He picked up the tray containing his regular pot and one cup. He wasn’t prepared enough for the chanoyu. He was too far from calm. Fudoshin . He appeared back at the table, placing the tray atop the table. She hadn’t moved while he’d been gone. This was bad. Had he failed to compensate for the time needed to move? What was wrong with him? He was even shaking.
    Aho. Idiot. He focused on calming the tremor. Poured her cup. Held it out to her.
    “You will accept tea?” he asked.
    “You’re not drinking?” she asked.
    “I do not...drink tea. Um. Not usually.” Sugoku. Damn. Was everything a trap waiting to spring on him?
    “Really?”
    She didn’t take the cup, although her gaze dropped to the cup before returning to look at him. Directly at him. Her dragon eyes sent a shiver along his spine. Damn! Every connection with her gaze sent sensation. Thrill. Excitement. He placed the cup back on the tray without even realizing he’d done so.
    “You move...really fast,” she remarked.
    “Oh.”
    “I suppose that’s a ninja trait?”
    Takeshi’s eyes darted away for the barest moment. And then he nodded.
    “Who are you...really?” she asked.
    “I told you my name. Takeshi. Takeshi Asourah.”
    “You don’t work for my company...Mister Asourah.”
    Oh. Not good. She was using his proper name.
    “Please. Call me Takeshi.”
    “This message is on company letterhead. Using our special code. I want you to know I wouldn’t be here otherwise.”
    She waved a folded sheet of paper in his direction. She might be offering it to him, but decided otherwise. He watched her fold it into a small square and secret it into a pocket sewn in her pants alongside her knee. Even with loosely-fitted trousers, he got a glimpse of leg definition. Shapely. Feminine. Unsettling.
    And then something completely foreign happened. Takeshi glanced down to his groin in surprise and dismay and absolute astonishment. He was stirring with need?
    Now?
    “You could work for our competition. But...that’s even more far-fetched than the ninja-hood stuff from last night. I mean, this morning.”
    Ninja-hood stuff?
    Takeshi returned his gaze to hers, despite how difficult it was. She was downplaying his skills, keeping a steady connection as if expecting a reaction. Ah . She was very good at observing body language. As was he. He’d been versed in Neo Confucianism. He didn’t give her any reaction. He didn’t answer, either. He simply watched and waited, listening to his heart rate ramp up, as did hers, in a perfect match.
    “And that does beg another question.”
    “Yes?” he prompted.
    “Who are you, really? And where are you taking me?”
    Her voice had a distinct tremor. The jet had reached cruising altitude. The liquid in her cup leveled off as he watched it. Takeshi took his time regaining a seat in the chair beside her. Pulling his trouser legs up to gain needed room in the crotch area. Sitting, then shifting about, as if settling for comfort in the seat. He dusted for imaginary specs on the armrests next before placing his arms there. All the while his mind raced. Deciding. Evaluating. Discarding.
    “That is two questions,” he finally