She turned on her side, curling her body, looking delicious. He knew he would always look forward to the times they went to bed. He hoped he’d never fall asleep first, just so he could have these moments when she was drifting off, goofy as hell, adorable and all his.

He laughed softly. “I can keep it up for hours. Better to give in now.”

“Fine.”

He knew she deliberately used that word because she lifted her head and gave him a quelling look. Laughing, he slid into bed, curled his body around hers and drew up the sheet. “I’ll take that ‘fine’ as your promise, amore.” He wrapped his arm around her, cupping one breast in his palm. “Go to sleep. We’re getting on a plane in a few hours.”

She pushed back into him, her only answer, and then she was perfectly relaxed, already asleep.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

M

ariko stood in the doorway of the amazing jet they’d used to travel to her country. The aircraft was more of a luxury hotel than a plane, complete with bedrooms. She’d spent more time awake than asleep, but she didn’t regret one moment of her time with Ricco. He was a demanding lover – but then, so was she.

The lights of the city lit up the sky in every color of the rainbow. She loved everything about Tokyo at night. When she was a teenager, so upset with Osamu’s treatment, or hurt that Ryuu had said something mean to her to get into Osamu’s good graces, she’d ridden shadows all over the city. Sneaking out had been easy enough. Sneaking back to bed when Osamu was waiting for her hadn’t been.

“You don’t have to go with us,” Ricco said, coming to stand behind her. His hand went to the nape of her neck. One finger slid over her skin in that caress she knew so well. The one that always seemed to give her confidence.

“I do.” She glanced back at him over her shoulder and met his dark gaze. She wanted him to know she had to face Osamu – to see for herself once and for all. She’d be able to read Osamu even if the woman was adept at lying.

He didn’t argue with her. He didn’t want her to go. He’d made that clear enough. She knew he wanted to protect her from whatever they might find, and she loved him even more for that. Sometimes she didn’t know how to take his protective streak, but she was always grateful for it.

She leaned back against him to show she understood it was difficult for him to have her go with them to confront Osamu Saito. The woman had been so harsh with her and yet she was the only mother Mariko had ever known. If Osamu was behind Ryuu’s kidnapping, Mariko honestly didn’t know what she would do.

“Let’s get it done then. We have to be in and out of here fast,” Stefano decreed. “You follow our lead, Mariko, and if things go to hell, hit the first shadow and ride it back to the plane.”

She nodded because she knew the Ferraro brothers now. How stubborn they were. They’d stand there until hell froze over before they moved if she didn’t agree to Stefano’s orders. There wouldn’t be an argument. They didn’t argue. In any case, although she had complete confidence in herself and her abilities as a rider, she knew this would be an emotional journey and it was going to take its toll on her.

She looked down at the ring on her finger. It wasn’t just any ring. It was a rider’s ring – specially crafted by the famous Ferraro jeweler in New York. She touched the band, rubbed at it, feeling the solid presence surrounding her finger the way Ricco’s ropes surrounded her, the way his arms did.

The ring was a part of her and it would break down just as she did in the shadow tubes. She could carry it with her everywhere she went, which meant having Ricco with her. His strength. His power. His belief in her.

Stefano reached out and clapped Franco Mancini, another cousin and the Ferraro pilot, on the shoulder. “We’ll be back in a couple of hours. If not, you know what to do.”

Franco didn’t smile, and Mariko could see, despite his expressionless mask, that he was worried. She wanted to reassure them that Osamu would be gracious to them. It was only to Mariko – and sometimes Ryuu – that she showed her mean streak. Franco’s gaze shifted, just for a moment, to her and then moved away, out toward the large asphalted area where he had taxied the plane, brought it in nose first, and parked. Was he worried about her? She glanced at Ricco’s face again.

“I’m going to be fine,” she assured him, although she was really reassuring all of them. She’d gone from just having Ryuu – and that was often part-time – to having what seemed an enormous family. Siblings and cousins treated her as if she were already a part of them.

“I wish you’d stay with Franco here where I know you’re safe,” Ricco said. “I’ve got a bad feeling, il mio amore.” He wrapped his arms around her and nuzzled her neck. “I wouldn’t make it very long without you. I’d much rather know you’re safe than take chances.”

“Seriously, Osamu is no threat to us. Her husband was a rider. As far as I know, she stopped riding shadows when she had children, but she always respects a rider.”

“Except for you,” Franco murmured.

Stefano’s head jerked up. “Osamu was trained in riding shadows?”

Mariko frowned and nodded. “She told me once that she was. She was upset because I’d beat everyone’s times in the trials. We had to go from one end of Tokyo to the other. There were checkpoints to ensure we didn’t cheat, as if any shadow rider would. She detested that I was given any recognition and she told me she could have easily beat my times when she was training.”

Stefano’s eyes met Ricco’s over her head. “That information is not common knowledge, Mariko. All trained riders are known within the community. Osamu was never registered as a rider.”

“I asked Dai about it. He said she didn’t like being in the tubes, but that she was trained and, despite feeling sick when she was inside, was very good when she was young.” She looked from Stefano to Ricco. “What difference does it make? She’s married to a shadow rider. She produced children and they were riders. She respects the riders even though she didn’t want to go out on missions or continue into her adult years. There are many riders who try but don’t make it for various reasons.”

“Everything makes a difference, Mariko. The more knowledge we have the better,” Ricco said, his voice gentle. “We investigate everyone we target thoroughly.”

“We aren’t targeting Osamu,” Mariko pointed out. She looked from one brother to the other. “Are we? Isn’t it possible she was just given the note and put it in my room?”

As terrible as her childhood had been, Osamu was still the only mother she had. Grief had lived in that house every single day. Osamu had been a good woman, a rider, a mother of two little boys she adored. A wife. Dai loved her despite how sorrow had weighed her down and changed her. He’d always come back, and more than once, Mariko had seen him holding Osamu as she cried. She didn’t want the Ferraros to think Osamu was all bad. People had layers to them. She had never experienced the compassionate, good side of Osamu, but she’d seen it in her interactions with Ryuu and Dai. She’d heard her laugh with her friends.