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GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

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without freaking out. She’s solidly on our side, Azami. I think all of us not only love her but have developed a very large protective streak where she’s concerned.”
    Azami smiled at her. The hint of warning was subtle, but there. “I absolutely hear what you’re saying, Saber, and I can understand it,” she agreed mildly. “I’m planning on making this my home, so she’ll have one more person looking out for her.”
    Saber’s smile was relieved. “I’m glad you’ll be here. I missed you. You were more like family to me than anyone. I have Jesse now, the GhostWalkers, and Jesse’s family. I sometimes pinch myself to make certain I’m not in a fairy tale. He built a house for his sister, Patsy, right near ours.”
    “I am so looking forward to Sam coming home,” Azami admitted. “I try not to worry about him, but I can’t help it. I found myself wanting to contact him via satellite just to make certain he’s alive and well.”
    Saber laughed. “Let’s get inside and let the boys handle the rest of this. We can have tea and have a nice long visit. I want you to meet Jesse.”

C HAPTER 20

    D ebriefing was a lot of bullshit. Sam wanted to leap out of his seat and go find his woman. He’d never actually had a woman to come home to, and now that he did, he had to sit like a kindergartener, wiggling around his chair, anxious to see her—inspect her—and make certain she didn’t have so much as a scratch on her. Fucking Whitney, attacking the compound when there were just a few men and women to defend it. She wasn’t hurt . . .
    “Sam, you with us?” Ryland asked.
    He wasn’t the only one with a wife. Ryland had to be just as anxious. His son had been a target. He scowled at Ryland.
    “He’s got ants in his pants.” Tucker snickered.
    “He’s got somethin’ in his pants,” Gator mocked, shoving at Sam’s boot with his foot. “And I don’ think it’s ants.”
    “Go to hell,” Sam said good-naturedly. “Like all of you aren’t just as antsy.”
    Ryland sighed. “Our women fought off Whitney’s men while we were in the field. It’s getting a little old.” He looked at Sam. “Get out of here.”
And I want a full briefing from her later.
    Sam’s nod was barely perceptible. He leapt out of the chair and rushed from the room, an arrow shot out of a bow. Laughter followed him, but he didn’t give a damn. Nothing mattered but to get to her. Azami. His. He still didn’t really believe she would be there. He kept expecting to wake up and find she was a dream—or that she’d come to her senses and run back to Japan where her life would make much more sense than his world did.
    He sprinted out of the house, to the trail at the back leading into the woods. His five acres were to the west, and he rarely used a vehicle to travel the distance. He had worn a faint path in through the woods. When he wanted to go fast, he often teleported to keep in practice, and that’s what he did now, setting his destination for just outside his home. He wanted to feel that amazing feeling she’d given him just days earlier of coming home. He needed to see the house lit up, telling him she was inside and waiting for him.
    Dark clouds churned and spun overhead. Leaves on the trees swayed while some danced through the air with the wind, swirling their way to earth. The trees rose up like giant stick figures, branches reaching out, slowly shedding leaves as the season changed. A bite of cold touched his skin, but no matter how cold it was, nothing could stop the heat spreading through his body at the sight of those Japanese lanterns bobbing up and down the small stream running beside his house, the warm glow lighting the way home.
    He stood on the worn path, his heart pounding, love flooding his mind. Azami. Sliding into his mind, holding him close. Her happiness spilled into him, filling him, driving out loneliness and doubts. She stood framed in the doorway, flickering candles dancing behind her, silhouetting her there in the dark. She wore only a short silken robe, her slender legs bare. Her hair fell in a silken waterfall around her face to spill to her waist. Her robe was open, exposing that wondrous, almost luminous spiderweb wrapping around all that bare skin. He really, really wanted to tattoo a couple more spiders to mark his favorite spots on her.
    He walked slowly up to the house, his heart in his throat, his pulse pounding, savoring the feeling of coming home to her. Her dark eyes

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