Like an ice-cold shower, the thought obliterated everything else.

The foundations of her control solidified, she slid into the car beside Damion.

She felt his quizzical gaze on her, but kept hers forward. When he turned the ignition and gripped the gearstick, she deliberately drifted her fingers over the back of his hand. His light intake of breath didn’t pierce her re-imposed self-control. Even the tingle in her fingers lingered for a split second before it set her free. For that, Reiko was eternally grateful.

‘You don’t need to worry. I’ll be on my best behaviour.’

‘I’m curious as to the sudden change of heart.’

Had his voice grown a little raspier?

‘Let’s just say I don’t want to prolong our association any longer than I have to.’

Damion pondered the change in Reiko as he negotiated the last few streets towards his Parisian apartment in the third arrondissement. Something had happened between their disembarking the plane and leaving the airstrip. Something he couldn’t put his finger on.

Her body was so still, her expression so remote, Damion wondered if she was in some sort of trance. Only the frequent flickering of her eyelids and furtive glances out of her window indicated she wasn’t in a meditative state.

When he pulled up outside his apartment overlooking the Place des Vosges, he glanced at her again. This time she met his gaze. Damion saw a trace of pain in that look and frowned. Had he been too rough with her? A tinge of guilt seeped in to compound his confusion. As feisty as she was, he wasn’t unaware of her diminutive stature. His glance slid over her again and his frown deepened. Why had she covered herself up so completely?

The Reiko he’d known had worn skimpy outfits designed to drive him wild with desire. He recalled her perfect, flawless skin, and heat unfurled within him. He’d loved running his hands over her naked body, watching arousal heat her flesh, hearing her words of wonder as he’d taken her …

He stemmed the tide of unwanted memories.

Five years ago he’d let the personal get in the way of business and regretted it.

Whatever Reiko Kagawa was hiding underneath those staid, sexless clothes was no longer his business.

His main focus needed to be on locating the third painting and making sure his grandfather’s last days were made as comfortable as possible.

As to what came after that … His jaw tightened. He’d think about that aspect of his duty—finding a wife, making sure his family name continued—when the time was right.

‘Vien, we’re here.’ His personal concierge hurried forward and opened Reiko’s door. Damion handed over the contents of the boot and turned to her. ‘It’s lunchtime. I’ve booked a restaurant close by. Are you okay to walk?’

He caught her look of panic-tinged suspicion before she quickly doused it.

‘Of course I am. Why shouldn’t I be?’ she challenged, her eyes fiery.

He indicated the cobblestoned pavement reminiscent of this part of Paris. ‘Those heels look hazardous—’

‘They’re fine.’

He’d clearly touched a nerve, but Damion didn’t know why. ‘Let’s go.’

The scent of her flowery perfume caught his nostrils as she fell into step beside him. He slowed his pace to match hers, and in the spring sunshine watched the way the light bounced over her long, dark locks.

He felt another puzzle tease at his brain. Her suit, make-up and shoes all shrieked a power statement that her free-flowing hair immediately defused.

Or was that her trick? Recalling the way she’d touched him last night and this morning, Damion felt his gut tighten. The contact had been in no way sensual, and certainly not what he was used to from women, but it had captured his attention. So much so he hadn’t been able to dismiss it from his mind.

A grande dame tottered past with several dogs on a leash. Reiko didn’t seem to notice her. He grabbed her arm to steer her clear of the menagerie and felt the fragile bones of her elbow beneath his touch. He waited for her to make a comment and glanced at her when she didn’t.

‘What?’ she enquired.

He nodded to the old lady. ‘You once mentioned how cute you thought that whole grande dame with dogs thing. So very French.’

Her mouth dropped open. She looked after the old woman and her dogs, then back at him. ‘You remember?’

He remembered a great deal about their six weeks in Tokyo; he had spent far too much time last night thinking about it. Was spending too much time thinking about it now. What the hell was wrong with him?

Everything Reiko had said to him at the vault had been true. He had sent her the money to salve his conscience after he’d learnt of her grandfather’s death. But deep down he’d hoped she wouldn’t take it—that she’d call or come and find him and rip the cheque to shreds in his presence.

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