Circle of Dishonor: The Circle Series, #4

By Carla Swafford

John "Ice" Takahashi's final job for The Circle has an unexpected hitch in it; he's fallen for an innocent civilian and his enemies know. With his mission in a shambles, he'll do anything to protect her, including kill. So how can a man without honor prove he's worthy of her love?

 

Lena Matthews feels like she's playing with fire by dating the mysterious Master J. He's exotic, dangerous, and exactly what she needs in her boring life. With the bad guys bearing down on them, she discovers a whole new world of sensuality that binds her heart to his forever.

 

Novella - 20,326 words

• Language: English
• Publisher: Carla Swafford
• Release date: Jun 23, 2014
• ISBN: 9781498944854

Carla Swafford

Carla Swafford loves romance novels, action/adventure movies, and men, and her books reflect that. And on top of it all, she's crazy about hockey, and thankfully, no one has made her turn in her Southern Belle card. So, it's no surprise she writes spicy romantic suspense filled with mercenaries, motorcycle one-percenters, and southern criminals. And in the last few years, she's included sexy hockey players in books without suspense, except for the kind that asks, how will they ever find their happily ever after? Married to her high school sweetheart, she lives in the Southeast U.S. To find out more about Carla, be sure to visit her Facebook, Instagram, or TikTok pages or join her newsletter on her website.

Book preview

Chapter One

Lena Matthews felt like a perverted voyeur.

Sitting in a coffee shop across the courtyard from the martial arts studio's glass storefront, she stared at the tae kwon do class as they kicked and jabbed. Most of the students wore white pajama-like uniforms, except for the teacher. He stood out in black with his shaggy dark hair and ripped body. The man looked good enough to lick.

For the last five weeks after her tai chi class, she'd claimed the same chair and watched his every move. Behind her, others in the coffee shop chatted about the class and the mysterious man leading it.

From what she'd overhead, his name was John Takahashi, and the students called him Master J.

Master? Oh, yeah. She could imagine he'd master many things. With his strong hands and long muscled arms and legs, he likely controlled any situation or person. He could easily lift her and hold her against the wall as he stroked her to a climax. She whimpered and squeezed her knees together.

A shake of her head knocked out the dirty thoughts racing through her mind. She knew better. He'd never be attracted to an ordinary person like her. The woman he chose would be totally the opposite of her: young, athletic with honey blonde hair. Lena was about as interesting as watching bread turn to toast.

The rumors flying around in the coffee shop about Master J bounced from his being a former Japanese mobster to a government-sanctioned assassin assigned to a secret organization. First, from what she'd seen, there wasn't a tattoo on that fit body, and didn't all yakuza believe more was better? And second, how secret would the organization be if so many people knew of it? Everything sounded so farfetched. No one knew for sure what he did before opening up the studio, and he apparently refused to talk about his past.

The gossip fed her steamy fantasies of Master J, and she'd watched every Asian action film she could find on Netflix. She'd never been so infatuated with a stranger.

She smiled. It was amazing the things a person heard while pretending to be engrossed with the computer, but it fueled her imagination. She loved watching him. He certainly didn't have a problem with coordination. Every kick and twist was fluid, like poetry in motion.

In her absorption, she had to remember to occasionally look down at the computer so no one caught her gawking. Did it really matter what other people thought? So what if he was younger? What was the harm in watching? She was single again. It was healthy to look at men. Another peek across the courtyard and she breathed in deep. The man punched and jumped in the air as he strode gracefully across the studio.

Hello, mid-life crisis?

She felt like a sex-starved groupie drooling over the most exotic and probably dangerous man she'd ever seen. It didn't help that the last two weeks, halfway through the class, he always pulled off his shirt. Sweat looked good on his well-defined chest and abs, and the loose black pants he wore rode low, showing off his seriously cut body. He probably needed to be in shape to survive his world, if any of the rumors were true. A place she never thought a whole lot about before.

At that moment, the object of her obsession picked up a towel and wiped sweat from his face. When his eyes opened above the white cloth, their gazes met.

Oh, my God! She looked down and pretended to type. Keep cool. He'll think it was a coincidence that I made eye contact.

Her face flushed. The man wasn't dumb. He'd caught her doing the same thing last week. Would he think it an amusing fluke? Again?

Making a decision to run for it, she grabbed her satchel and stuffed in her laptop. She walked toward the door, staring at the floor and avoiding any chance of eye contact. What was she thinking, spying on him? The man was gorgeous, but so much younger and so out of her depth.

As soon as she stepped outside, head still down, she ran into something solid. A person.

Bare masculine toes wiggled an inch from her sneakers and warned of who stood there. How could bare feet be sexy? The desire to run quickly dissipated. She was no coward. She looked up. Master J stood in front of her with his black eyebrows raised, towel around his neck and shirt on.

Shirt on. Thank you, God, for small favors.

A brief smile crossed his face.

Do I know you? he asked with a slight Southern drawl.

So not what she thought he would sound like, but she liked it nevertheless.

Mortified by the confrontation but determined not to appear more foolish―she possessed some common sense―Lena straightened and looked into his dark eyes.

No, but...I...I enjoy watching you teach your class...uh...I mean I enjoy watching your class. Her face heated. Oh, hell, when did she develop a speech impediment? Pull yourself together, girl. He's just a guy like a lot of other guys, with muscles and gorgeous dark eyes that twinkle. Who was she kidding? How often did she meet a man like him? All intimidating and lethal to her body and heart.

He dipped his head, hiding his amusement. I'm honored.

She copied his action and then said, If you will excuse me, I need to head home.

He caught her arm, his fingers gentle.

Come. Have a cup of coffee with me.

I don't drink coffee. She squeezed her eyes shut. That sounded so stupid though it was true. Why wouldn't he assume she drank the stuff? He'd caught her staring at him from a coffee shop, for goodness' sakes. I mean, I prefer tea. When she opened her eyes, his grin grew bigger. He had a beautiful smile.

Tea, then. I'll appreciate hearing about your opinion of my class. So we'll meet in five minutes? He waited for her reply.

How could she turn him down? After weeks of obsessing over his looks and possible bad-boy past, there was only one answer. Yes. I'd like that.

"I'll see