Fuck.
He didn’t do this. He didn’t know how to do this missing her and wanting her thing.
But you do know how to f**k something up beyond repair.
He had to fix this. Had to.
Ronin retreated from the bathroom. He paused in the doorway to her bedroom. Her rumpled bed looked exactly as he’d left it. Exactly. Bedding dangling off the end of the mattress where he’d thrown it back. Pillows shoved to his side of the bed.
But on her side of the bed . . . there were the two coils of black rope he’d forgotten to pack up before leaving yesterday morning.
Christ. Had it been only yesterday morning he’d woken in her bed? Only one damn day since everything had imploded?
At least she hadn’t thrown them out in a fit of pique.
Now that he knew they were here, he had a legitimate excuse for returning.
• • •
BACK at the Black Arts dojo, Ronin wandered around like a ghost. No one engaged him while he observed classes from a distance. He saw everything yet nothing as his mind focused elsewhere—which is probably why he didn’t recognize the woman at first.
Shihan Knox barked, “None of you have shown any familiarity with this technique, and I know this is not the first time you’ve worked with it.”
Every student appeared to hang their head in shame.
Except for one.
Naturally Knox noticed her defiant posture. His eyes narrowed and he pointed to her. “You. Up here. Now.”
The woman sauntered to the front of the class and bowed.
“You familiar with this technique?”
She kept her head lowered. “Yes, Godan.”
“Good.” Knox took five steps back. “Start from the defensive stance.” He went at her, low and outside.
In that split second Ronin recognized Knox’s mistake—as did his student.
She used the forward motion of his body against him, knocking him sideways. The move caught him completely off guard, and he took a knee—which was as good as admitting defeat.
Shihan Knox shot to his feet. He tried to appear unfazed, but Ronin recognized his annoyance. Knox said, “Reverse stances. You’re on the offensive.”
“No,” the student said calmly.
“Excuse me?”
“I decline the challenge. I wouldn’t come at you from the angle you’ve been demonstrating. That’s why no one in the class has mastered it. With all due respect, Godan, this teaching method is ineffective.”
Rather than show irritation, Knox grinned. Ronin knew he lived for this comeuppance shit.
“Since you have ideas on how our training time might be better spent, defend yourself any way you see fit.” Then Knox rushed her.
She lowered into a defensive stance, allowing herself to get steamrolled, the equivalent of offering the alpha dog her throat.
That didn’t make Knox happy. “Partner up at the heavy bags. We’ll work on kicks for the remainder of class.”
Ronin stayed in the dark corner, assessing each student’s skills. Clearly they needed to put the screws to this class—he saw several students slacking on basic techniques. Their lack of discipline reflected on him as owner of the dojo.
Knox dismissed class student by student—as was his prerogative. He retained the female student until everyone had left.
“Please stand.”
She gracefully propelled herself upright.
“Why did you refuse to demonstrate the reversal of the technique?”
“Out of deference to you, Godan.”
She called him Godan, his belt rank, and not Shihan, a term used for the highest-ranking teacher besides the sensei.
“Explain that,” Knox demanded.
“I am merely a visitor to your domain.”
Knox loomed over her, but she wouldn’t meet his gaze. “So you let me win because you didn’t want to show me up in front of my students?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, hell no. We’ll go again. This time? No holding back. And that is an order.”
“As you wish.” She fortified her stance.
For a big guy, Knox was fast on his feet, very adaptable in the moment. But he didn’t stand a chance against the woman’s speed and intuition.
She dodged, ducked, and knocked Knox down, immobilizing him against the mat with her elbow on the back of his neck. She held his wrist in a joint lock, which, if he moved the wrong way, would result in a fracture.
Ronin stepped forward. “Release him.”
The woman immediately let Knox go. When she offered him a helping hand, Knox tugged her to the mat, trying to regain ground, but she merely pulled a reversal and Knox found himself in the same subservient position as before.
Knox swore under his breath.
“Ill-advised attempt at saving face, Shihan.” Then Ronin addressed the woman. “I take it you didn’t introduce yourself to my staff?”
She shrugged. “You gave me a guest pass. I used it. It didn’t include welcome to the dojo instructions.”
Such a smart mouth. “Let him go.”
She glanced down at Knox. “Do I have permission to put him in his place again if he doesn’t behave?”
“Shihan?” Ronin prompted.
Knox gritted out, “I won’t engage her.”
“Wise move.” She stood and bowed to Ronin. “Sensei.”
Ronin gestured to the petite woman, who failed to pull off an innocent look. “Knox, this is my sister, Shiori Hirano.”
“Your sister? Fuck me.”