GhostWalkers 10 - Samurai Game

she …
feared
it.
Distrusted
it. His mind spun fast, throwing out answers he wasn’t so fond of.
    “Have you actually met Dr. Whitney, then? Do you know him?”
    Azami swallowed and took a step back, her long lashes veiling her eyes. “Yes, I’ve met him. He’s a monster. High IQ, but not anything like my brother.” Her eyes met his. “Or you.”
    He recognized that she was telling him she’d investigated him thoroughly. Why him? Lily was purchasing the satellite. Did her company routinely investigate others living near or around someone making a buy from them? That made no sense.
    “Why would you know anything about me?” He was a member of an elite military team that operated completely under the radar. They were not given credit for any mission. Few knew of their existence. Only those with the very highest security clearance would know anything at all about Sam Johnson. Azami Yoshiie shouldn’t know any real particulars on an individual soldier. He expected that she would know about the GhostWalkers because she wouldn’t sell a satellite to just any company and she was plugged into the military—she’d sold a few satellites to them. But there was no reason whatsoever to know anything about an individual member of that elite unit.
    Thorn shrugged, her breath catching in her lungs. She was in murky waters now. If she’d read Sam wrong, she could blow everything. He was truly a man who could go from totally relaxed to full-out attack in a split second, and she had no doubt that he was an intensely loyal man. She was dismayed to find she wanted him to be loyal to her. She didn’t want him to be so suspicious of her, and yet she was immensely pleased that he was.
    Thorn had never felt so conflicted. If he didn’t have the intelligence he possessed, or the skills as a warrior, she would never be able to respect him—or be attracted to him. He had to be suspicious or she would have dismissed him as she did nearly everyone else.
    She spoke the truth, knowing she was deliberately misleading him. “Dr. Whitney attempted to purchase a satellite from our company about two years ago. Of course we don’t do business with anyone we don’t meet.” That much was true—but Whitney had refused the meeting. He’d gone so far as to offer more money and said he could handle the software installation and the training of the technicians to run the software—which made her brothers shake their heads at his enormous ego.
    “He has one of your satellites?” Sam asked.
    She shook her head. “No, we did not go through with the sale. My brother was not impressed with him. His manner is disrespectful.” Again that was strictly the truth, and anyone knowing Dr. Whitney would know he had an ego the size of Europe and was totally rude to anyone he considered inferior—which basically meant everyone.
    Sam frowned at her. His expression gave nothing away, and she made a mental note not to try to play poker with him. She could keep her serenity all day and few could ever see what was going on inside of her, but she wasn’t going to bet her life—or those of her brothers—that Sam couldn’t read her. He’d been suspicious of her from the very moment he’d laid eyes on her.
    “Were you ever alone with him?”
    Her heart jerked hard in her chest. Memories flooded her mind, the silent screams of a small child, the pain wracking her body, a knife slicing through her chest. Her heart ceasing to beat and then jerking awake, just as it was now. She slammed the mental door shut hard. That way lay madness. She never looked at those memories unless they served a valuable purpose and there was no such reason now.
    “We are a traditional family in many ways,” she replied enigmatically, avoiding a lie. She wasn’t above lying to serve her mission, but not to Sam, not if she could help it.
    His eyes warmed. “So we’re back to you giving me instructions on how to properly court you. Do I ask your brothers’ permission?”
    He was stealing her heart with his sincerity. She shook her head. “I am not a woman who would be practical in your life, Sam. You need a home and family . . .”
    He laughed, interrupting her carefully chosen words. The sound was pure masculine amusement, sending a curling heat through her and making her forget everything she was going to say.
    “I’m a soldier, Azami. That’s who I am. What I am. My woman will be my home—my family. Beyond that, who knows? I believe you’re that