“A souvenir from the Bundori Killer.”
“And these?” Reiko traced other scars on her husband’s left shoulder and right forearm.
“Sword fights with a traitor who attacked the shogun, and an assassin who tried to kill me.”
Without his saying so, Reiko realized that Sano had defeated both men. His victories impressed her, as did his courage to risk his life in the line of duty.
Unexpectedly, Sano looked mortified, rather than proud of his deeds. “I’m sorry that the sight of me disgusts you.”
“No! It doesn’t at all!” Reiko hastened to assure him. The ugly scars were symbols of everything she valued in Sano, yet she knew that words wouldn’t convince him. Forgetting her own shyness, she removed her garments, baring her slender figure and small, pointed breasts. She took Sano’s hands and placed them on her waist.
Relief, gratitude, and desire mingled in his deep sigh, his somber smile. “You are beautiful,” he said.
Pride gave Reiko daring. She tugged at Sano’s loincloth. The band of white cotton defied her clumsy efforts, and he helped her. Then the last fold came away, and she gazed in fascination at her first sight of an aroused man. His size at once alarmed and profoundly stirred her. When she touched his organ, it pulsed in her hand, a shaft of rigid muscle beneath smooth, sensitive skin. She heard him moan. Then his embrace drew her down onto the futon.
The warmth of intimate contact startled Reiko, as did the difference between her body and Sano’s. He was hard where she was soft, all large bones and steel sinews to her delicacy. Then he began fondling her breasts, teasing her nipples, stroking her thighs. Lifted to new heights of sensation, Reiko returned touch for touch; the strangeness disappeared as their harsh breaths mingled and pleasure made them equals. Sano’s mouth on her throat, his manhood pressing against her elicited a moan from Reiko. Between her legs, his fingers caressed. Her inner flesh swelled and moistened. When he mounted her, she was more than ready.
Sano lowered his weight upon her slowly, so as not to crush her. He wet himself with saliva to ease their union. Gently he thrust against Reiko’s womanhood. Despite his care, she felt a sharp pain as he entered. She stiffened, gasping.
“I’m sorry,” Sano said quickly.
Yet through the pain bloomed a demanding need. Arching against him, Reiko whispered, “Oh. Oh, yes.”
He began to move within her. Gradually the slick profusion of Reiko’s desire lessened the rough, tearing friction. Her body was melting inside, opening to Sano. She clasped him with fierce delight, reveling in the sight of his enjoyment: closed eyes, parted lips, the heaving of his chest. His embrace tightened; she felt the scars under her fingers. It was as if she held all her samurai heroes in her arms. Then rising excitement drowned conscious thought. Reiko was locked in a battle for satisfaction; she was climbing a mountain. Sano’s thrusts drove her higher and higher. Then she reached the peak, where victory waited. Reiko cried out as her body convulsed with a rapture she had never known.
She was a miracle beyond Sano’s dreams, a wondrous blend of strength and fragility, her body like resilient steel sheathed in silk. Lost in the feel and scent of Reiko, he thrust harder and faster as his need consumed him.
Unbeknown to her, this was a new experience for him, too: Never before had he been anyone’s first lover. Thus, he’d feared hurting Reiko; he hadn’t been sure he could make the initial act of sex enjoyable for his wife. Because he’d not had a woman for so long, he’d worried that he wouldn’t be able to postpone his release long enough to satisfy Reiko. Now he felt a happiness that went beyond physical gratification. The sight of her beautiful face contorting in ecstasy and the sound of the cries that accompanied her climax lifted him to the verge of his own. This union confirmed their marriage as one in which both could give and receive satisfaction-in life’s daily business, as well as in the bedchamber.
Arousal and tension rapidly concentrated in Sano’s loins; he heard the surging of his blood, the wild clamor of his heart as he drove deeper into Reiko. She moaned and held him tighter. Then, with a shout that issued from the depths of his soul, he was launched into a timeless space of pure ecstasy. Emptying his seed, Sano shuddered in the throes of a release as much spiritual as carnal. The bitterness, anger, frustration, and sadness of the past fled him in a great rush. When the climax subsided, he felt exhausted, but exhilaratingly refreshed. He rested on his elbows and looked down at Reiko.
She smiled, lovely and serene. Through the emotion that swelled his throat and stung his eyes with tears, Sano smiled back. After many years of lonely wandering, he was home. Their love had restored to him a lost sense of self and power. There was no limit to what he could do, what they could achieve together.
Sudden loud noise startled them: cheers, applause, the rat-a-tat of firecrackers. A volley of pebbles showered the roof; torchlight flared in the garden outside; the silhouettes of dancing figures cavorted across the paper windowpanes. The detectives, guards, and servants were celebrating the consummation of their master’s marriage with a traditional wedding-night ceremony.
“Oh, no.” Sano burst out laughing.
Reiko joined in. “How did they know?”
“The walls are thin. Someone heard us, and told everyone else.”
Far from being annoyed, Sano was touched by the tribute-and glad for the interruption, which gave the new bride and groom something to talk about, filling any awkward silence. Beneath him, Reiko giggled with embarrassed glee. Then came a knock at the door. Hurriedly they disengaged and pulled on their kimonos. Sano answered the door and found Reiko’s nurse, O-sugi, standing outside, holding a laden tray.
“Some refreshment, sosakan-sama?” O-sugi beamed.
Sano realized that he was starving. “Thank you,” he said, taking the tray and closing the door. He and Reiko performed the necessary ritual of wiping away spilled semen and blood. Then they ate.
“Here, this will replenish your virility,” Reiko said mischievously, spooning raw fish roe into Sano’s mouth.
He poured the heated sake. “A toast,” he said, raising his cup, “to the beginning of our marriage.”
Reiko lifted her cup. “And the success of our investigation.”
An edge of apprehension cut into Sano’s happiness. He still feared that Reiko would get hurt while pursuing Lady Harume’s killer. As his love for her grew, how could he bear for anything bad to happen to her? Despite her intelligence and training, she was young, inexperienced. How far should he trust her with the difficult, sensitive job of detection?
However, he had promised Reiko a marriage of partners; he couldn’t go back on his word. Lifting his cup, he drank the sake. Reiko followed suit. Then Sano summarized the progress of the case.
“I’m assigning Hirata to look into the earlier attempts on Harume’s life,” he added. “And I have some ideas about her mysterious lover.”
“Well,” said Reiko, “since Lieutenant Kushida is still missing, I guess that leaves Lady Ichiteru and the Miyagi for me. Tomorrow I can ask my cousin Eri to arrange a meeting with Ichiteru, and I’ll visit the daimyo and his wife.”
Her gaze challenged Sano. This, he realized, was the first test of his resolve. He hated the idea of Reiko going anywhere near a possible murderer. Fighting the impulse to dissuade her, he swallowed words that would turn his promise into a betrayal. He tried to convince himself that Lieutenant Kushida or Harume’s unidentified lover was most likely the killer, while the other suspects posed no threat to his wife. At last he nodded.
“All right,” he said, “but please be careful.”
32
Morning brought milder weather, with a south wind blowing in from the sea. Puffy white clouds, like the stylized designs painted on Chinese porcelain, floated in the cerulean blue sky as Sano and Hirata rode along the Great North-South Road, Edo ’s main thoroughfare. Merchants slid open the wooden shutters of their shops, revealing fine furniture, paintings, lacquerware, and fabrics; servants mopped doorsteps. The street began to fill with peddlers and tea vendors, peasants calling cheerful greetings to one another, orange-robed priests with begging bowls, ladies riding in palanquins, mounted samurai.
Sano said, “We need to talk, Hirata-san.”
Hirata felt a constriction of his veins, heart, and windpipe. “Yes, sosakan-sama,” he said heavily.
