BindingCherryBlossoms Read Online Free Page A

not only be rehired on the spot, but that she would receive a
five-hundred-dollar bonus to make up for his bad behavior.
    But her father’s temper could only mean one thing—Ian Shoji
was making an appearance at last.
    Her mother had let it slip that morning that the Shoji
heir—and her soon-to-be fiancé if their combined families had anything to do
about it—had already arrived in Charleston and would be stopping by Nakao
Enterprises that afternoon to introduce himself. With that, Sakura had promptly
refused to set a single foot into the office, until the panicked voicemail of
her father’s secretary persuaded her that things had blown completely out of
control.
    Now she was stuck. She watched helplessly as the heir
apparent walked through the front door mere seconds before she’d managed to
escape out the back. And her father had worked himself into such a state she
feared he would have an aneurism if she abandoned him now. With her best forced
smile plastered on her face, she went to greet Ian Shoji, hoping she didn’t
look as harried as she felt.
    Although she tried her best not to show it, Sakura was
impressed by her first sight of their honored guest. The man was nothing at all
as she expected. Nearing six feet tall, he was lean of build with sleek muscles
that rippled beneath his clothes when he moved to meet her. He wore casual
jeans and a light-blue shirt, the cuffs rolled up haphazardly.
    She knew he wasn’t pure Japanese—her father had made a point
of dissing his American heritage every chance he could—and it showed in the jut
of his jaw and the more rounded shape of his eyes. A piercing black, she
thought in fascination, that went perfectly with sculpted cheekbones and the
golden skin of his Asian ancestry.
    She bet he possessed Western mannerisms as well, and to test
her theory she held out her hand in a true American greeting as she crossed the
room. He took it with a smile, his fingers closing firmly around hers, not even
bending his head in a trace of a traditional bow. And he met and held her eyes
for so long she was the first to look away.
    “Pleased to meet you, Miss Nakao.” His voice was pleasant,
as relaxed as his posture, his mouth turned up into a luscious smile that gave
her a tingle all the way to her toes.
    “Pleased to meet you, Mr. Shoji.” She dragged her hand away
with an effort. “I hope you are enjoying your visit to Charleston.”
    “I am enjoying it immensely.” His face held an expression
she could not read, something between conquest and seduction, a dazzling
combination. “Your hair is an amazing color,” he stated unexpectedly, reaching
out to fondle one of the purple-colored strands, leaving Sakura too flustered
to think of a response.
    Luckily she was saved any more embarrassment when her father
came to stand behind her. “Serve tea,” he ordered, waving his hand to dismiss
her. “And bring food.”
    “Iced tea or hot?” she shot back, knowing her father thought
putting ice in tea was one of the greatest sins imaginable.
    “Iced, for me,” Ian interjected. Again that brilliantly
decadent smile.
    “Me too,” she whispered, turning her head so her father
wouldn’t see. “But Nakao-san will only drink his hot, as tradition dictates.
Isn’t that right, Papa?” she added so he could hear.
    “Call Jiro’s Sushi. Order Chef’s choice. We will eat in my
office.”
    “Of course.” The restaurant was just a couple of blocks from
the Nakao business offices, and her father ate there most every day. Sakura
wasn’t known for her cooking skills, and her mother had developed a taste for
fried chicken and mashed potatoes, much to her husband’s consternation.
    Sakura took after her mother, however, and was determined to
have something that was actually cooked — e ven if her father killed
her—and watching Ian frown at the mention of sushi, decided he might be in the
mood for a change of pace.
    “Mr. Shoji, can I interest you in something more homey?”