Page 76 of Bitter Prince

I wanted it to burn strong and hot, but only for me.

It was as if my entire life had been about getting me back to the girl who stared at my father with big blue eyes full of fear.

Self-preservation told me to keep her at arm’s length and away from my heart. We were heading toward an inevitable collision, and our new boundaries wouldn’t mean shit once the truth about her father—and me using her—came to light. But I couldn’t stop even if I tried. Instead, I wanted her more with each breath I took.

I wanted all of her, even when I knew I didn’t deserve her. My head and heart waged a civil war against each other and, for the first time in my life, my heart was winning, because I started to question the need for my plan to avenge my mother.

“That’s settled, then,” Hiroshi announced on his way out the door. “I’ll wait for you in the dojo.”

Every home I owned in Japan and Southeast Asia in general had a dojo. It was a room we used for training and meditation.

“He’s going to kick your ass,” Dante pointed out.

“Probably.” I stood and walked across the office.

“Good luck. Can I have your bike if he kills you?”

My brother was always so thoughtful. “You have one just like it,” I said, shaking my head.

“You can never have enough bikes,” he called out after me.

I found my instructor in the training room, and we both bowed before starting to spar. Twenty minutes in, I realized Hiroshi was determined to kick my ass in today’s training session.

He almost broke my leg. Twice. It had nothing to do with the blonde woman with warm smiles and an angelic face. And it definitely wasn’t because she fucked with my brain with her toned legs and the breathless way she said my name. Like I was the only one who could give her what she needed and wanted.

Fuck!

A hand landed on my neck with enough force to steal my breath. Practicing martial arts with Hiroshi in this state was a mistake. He’d chop me up and render me immobile for a week.

“You are distracted,” Hiroshi said, calling me out on my bullshit.

“I have a lot on my mind,” I grunted as I blocked his next move.

He actually chuckled. “I bet.”

I rolled my eyes. I wanted to fly back to Paris, take Reina back to the Ferris wheel—or even better, my bed—and make her moan and grind against me, her wheat-colored hair that reminded me of summer fanning over me.

“What’s her name?” he asked. The problem was that I’d never share my personal life with Hiroshi. He was too close to my mother and I didn’t need another “talk” from her.

“There’s no name.”

“Love is a distraction,” he said, his breathing even as he landed another punch.

“You’re a distraction,” I grunted. “Are you trying to kill me?”

His closed fist came within an inch of my stomach, but I was at least fast enough to avoid it. “Being distracted while you fight your cousin and his men will get you killed.”

I blocked his next move too. Thank fuck, because my lungs were about ready to collapse as it was.

“Are we going to chitchat?” I challenged. “Maybe we should have some tea brought in.”

For the next thirty minutes, we sparred without saying a word. And miraculously, those golden curls stayed off my mind.

31

AMON

Kyoto, the city of cobblestone streets and low rooftops, was surrounded by mountain landscapes and fresh air. Kyoto was located in the Kansai region of Japan, its history rich and its national treasures abundant with shrines and temples scattered throughout. It was known for its refined culture, dining, and charm of rural Japan.