Chapter 152
Firenze, Florence
Morosini Villa
A soft shuddered breath pulled Kita from the most peaceful sleep of his adult life. His eyes moved around the area; it was dark outside, the light from the moon was coming in through the windows and illuminated the floor where they were stretched out, but the bathroom light was off.
The bulb must have gone out and he didn’t hear it pop.
“That is a first, and a first for a restful nap for once,” Kita whispered, looking down at the face of the young woman using his shoulder as a pillow and it made him smile. “How anyone can sleep like the dead and still look beautiful is beyond me.”
Never had Seon Rain looked as beautiful as she did then; hair disheveled, no makeup on, lips parted as a soft snore rolled from them, even with the little bit of drool coming from the corner of her mouth she was beautiful.
Seon Rain was beyond words to Kita, and that only added to the problem.
He picked up the hand that was resting over his heart and turned it over in the moonlight, admiring how small and delicate it looked in his larger, callus roughened hand. Rain’s slender fingers were soft and her creamy complexion made his look even darker; the French side tanned exceptionally well. On the palm of her hand was a faint white scar that ran from the base of her middle finger, through the head and heart lines, cutting between the fate and life lines down to the butt of her palm.
“Your hand would drive a palmist to lunacy, Seon Rain,” Kita whispered with a smile before bringing her hand to his mouth and kissed the scar; had had been curious as to how she got it but never asked because he didn’t want to upset her if it was from a bad experience.
He took a deep breath through his nose, the smell of Rain’s skin reminded him of Japan in a spring rain when the cherry blossoms are nearly in full bloom, and he looked forward to each time he had the privilege of inhaling it.
The stolen moments when it’s just the two of them together— training, sitting in front of the television, eating, going for a drive around the city to calm the mind before bed— he looked forward to each.
When the assignment is over, he would miss the simplicity that was Seon Rain and the way she made him feel.
“I got it in the wreck that killed my parents,” Rain whispered when he kissed it again, stealing his attention.
Kita rested their joined hands on his chest; he got caught.
“I figured that due to the age of the scarring,” Kita whispered.
“I have many scars. Because of how young I was when I was in the wreck, they healed better than the doctors thought they would,” she continued, speaking softly, her eyes closed. “Because of my lighter complexion, and them healing white, it hides them well.”
Rain took their joined hands and slid them under the blankets then caressed them along her thigh that was thrown across his hips.
His eyes widened.
“Feel that one?” she whispered.
Kita nodded, struggling to will his body not to get aroused.
The soft, pale scar tissue he barely felt under his fingers, but what he was hyperaware of was how soft her skin was and how amazing it felt to caress it.
“How many stitches?” Kita managed to ask to distract himself.
“Twenty-eight,” Rain said breathlessly.
The feel of his fingers caressing over her skin and the faint white scar that went along the outside of her thigh, curving along the contour of her hip, was beyond words.
“How many on the inside?” Kita asked, his thumb caressing over the top of the scar that was partially under the waistband of her panties on the front of her hip.
“Thirteen.”
Kita smiled, his eyes moving over her face. “An unlucky number.”
“My favorite number.”
“Mine as well,” he commented, causing her eyes to open and she looked at him.
“Are you teasing me?” she asked, suspicious.
“No. When I was a child I felt sorry for the number thirteen because of the historical unlucky nature and opinion of the number. Because of that, I showed compassion towards the number thirteen.”
Rain smiled. “You are a secret romantic with an overabundance of empathy.”
“I am not!” he playfully argued causing her to giggle. “I am merely not one to conform as I had to throughout my life. It is the little battles that I waged in private that allowed me to wield my defiant side.”
Rain loved it when Kita’s filters eluded him and the walls he spends so much effort and energy to maintain are down and she gets to see the real him that no one else sees.
Not even his siblings get to see that side of him.
“Defiant romantic, got it,” she confidently said, causing him to make a mocking face that made her smile wide. “Thank you for taking me to bed.”
Kita nodded as he continued to caress his thumb over the scar and her soft skin. “You tried to break my balls again. You neglected to tell me tall beds you cannot keep from falling out of.”
Rain made a face. “Sorry. I figured you would have caught on to that by now.”
“I am a slow learner when it comes to you, Seon Rain,” Kita informed her, his tone soft and eyes moving over her face before he smiled when she blushed.
“That is something we will forever disagree about, Kita Yasuhiro. You know me better than I know myself most of the time. I hate that about you, but I hate how much I like it even more.”
He chuckled. “Very well. That is something I will remedy.”
Rain dug her chin into his shoulder and he hissed. “Don’t be mean. I like that about you, even if it drives me insane because I can’t say the same when it pertains to you. I know nothing of you-”
“No, the problem is, Seon Rain, that you know me better than anyone and that is against the rules,” Kita interrupted.
“Whose rules?” she asked. “It isn’t your father’s, that I know because Lucien told me so. And I know it isn’t your mother’s rules, because she told us to sleep together and get it over with.”
Kita groaned, making a face; that was a rather embarrassing dinner conversation his charge and mother had while he ate cheesecake and pouted with a fractured jaw.
“That means it is your rules, yes?” Rain asked, smirking.
“Do not look at me like that,” he complained. “I cannot tell you no when you do.”
Rain giggled. “Then stop trying to tell me no,” she said, sitting up more. “You always tell me no, but I can see in your eyes you want to say yes… You need to say no in order to push me away, huh?”
Kita sighed, shaking his head. “What do you want me to tell you? What I should do or what I want to do?”
She knew he’d turn it around so she’d have to tell him what she wanted him to do.
It was his go-to defensive technique that Rain hated.
“The path of least resistance from the heart to the soul, to the mind to the lips, is through the truth your lips struggle to keep to themselves,” Rain said, caressing down the length of his nose with her index finger.
Kita’s fingers were still absently caressing the front of her hip under the covers, and she rather liked it.
“Having me tell you what to say isn’t what I want to hear,” she continued, tracing the contours of his lips with her finger, her attention on what she was doing. “You read me like a book, and at times I can read you just as easily. But you’re so used to keeping it all inside that you’re scared to say aloud what you’ve trained yourself to keep to yourself. When you’re ready, I’ll be here to listen,” she promised before leaning up and caressed his forehead with her lips.
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