Richard Warren waited outside the fourth floor board-room hoping like hell that the difficulties of the past twenty- four hours weren't an indication of things to come. He helped himself to a desperately needed cup of coffee and stood back, on the fringes of the crowd, searching for Morito Taka. It was by invitation of the CEO of TAKA Corporation that Richard was attending this meeting today.

As legal counsel for Hanson Media Group, his sole purpose was to observe and report back to his boss, Helen Hanson. Only after the proposed merger was approved by the majority of shareholders would Richard take an active role in negotiating the terms with TAKA's executive and its legal team. If all went according to schedule, everything would be finalized within the next few weeks and he could go back to his life in Chicago.

He hoped all went according to schedule. This merger was too important for anything to go wrong. In the six months since the death of George Hanson, his widow had done everything possible, if not more, to save the company from bankruptcy. And with almost no help from her husband's three children, who were too busy resenting Helen's position in the company to appreciate the sacrifices she'd made and the work she'd done.

But Richard forgot about his boss and everything else when he spotted the goddess across the room, all rational thought obliterated by three simple letters: W-O-W.

His gaze skimmed over her sling-back shoes, up endlessly long legs to the short, slim-fitting skirt and neatly tailored pin-striped shirt that hugged feminine curves, to the elegant knot of copper-colored hair at the back of her neck. She turned, giving him a glimpse of glossy peach lips, high cheekbones, and deep green eyes, and he felt as if all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room.

It was attraction, immediate and intense. But it was also recognition, and that shook him more than the desire stirring in his blood. He was sure that he'd seen her before. And yet, he was equally certain she was a stranger.

Maybe jet lag was scrambling his brain — it was the only explanation for such an incongruous thought.

She poured herself a cup of coffee, glancing up as she brought the cup to her lips. Their eyes met across the room, just for a second, before her gaze slid away again.

Richard felt a stirring of desire and realized it had been quite some time since he'd wanted a woman. Somewhere over the past year, he'd simply lost interest in the pretenses and deceptions that were an integral part of the mating ritual.

But he was definitely interested now.

He turned toward her just as a voice spoke behind him. "Mr. Warren?"

Mentally cursing the interruption, Richard nevertheless put a smile on his face and turned. "Yes, I'm RichardWarren."

"I'm Yasushi Nishikawa." The young Japanese man bowed, offering a business card that he held in both of his hands.

Richard set his cup aside to accept the card, carefully reading the inscription before sliding it into the pocket of his jacket. Yet another helpful TAKA employee; yet another name to remember. He retrieved one of his own cards and presented it in the same manner.

"I have been given the honor of sitting with you to interpret the proceedings," Yasushi told him.

Richard nodded. "Arigato." Thank you.

The translator grinned. "You are learning our language."

"It's one of the few words I know," Richard admitted. He'd added good morning, excuse me and I don't under-stand — which he imagined he would be using frequently over the next few weeks — to his repertoire by studying his Japanese phrase book over his first cup of coffee that morning.

"It's a good start," Yasushi said. "I've also been asked to tell you that the commencement of negotiations has been delayed."

So much for keeping things on schedule. "Mr. Tetsugoro was called out of town this morning on personal business. A death in the family," Yasushi explained. "He sends his apologies along with a promise to return by Monday morning."

While the man could hardly be blamed for a family emergency, Richard knew that would be little consolation to Helen with the future of Hanson Media at stake. He considered trying to call his boss now to advise her of this delay, but the meeting was scheduled to begin at eight o'clock and the sea of suits was already starting to flow toward the open doors of the conference room. The copper-haired goddess merged with the crowd that walked past.

Richard picked up his briefcase and followed Yasushi inside. Helen would have to wait.

He wasn't sure if it was lucky or not that his assigned companion selected a pair of chairs directly across the table from the woman who'd caught and held his attention.

"Jenny Anderson," Yasushi said softly, following the direction of his gaze. "She moved to Tokyo from New York about six months ago and is a society reporter for the Tokyo Tribune, TAKA's English language newspaper."

"Is it common for reporters to attend shareholder meetings?" he asked.

"No," Yasushi said. "But her parents are shareholders. She sometimes attends meetings on their behalf when they are out of the country."

A beautiful young reporter with jet-setting parents. The scant information didn't begin to answer all of the questions that came to mind.

He watched her riffle through a sheaf of papers she'd set on the table, and noted the absence of rings on her hands. He knew that wasn't conclusive evidence of anything, just as he knew that her marital status shouldn't be any of his concern. There was too much riding on this merger to allow his attention to be diverted, and the last thing he needed right now was the distraction of a woman.

Still, he found himself asking, "Is she married?" Yasushi smiled. "No, but determinedly unavailable, much to the disappointment of every single man in this room."

Jenny hated these meetings, but she'd been unable to avoid this one as both of her parents were out of town and had left her with their proxies. When the final votes were taken and the meeting adjourned after a long and tedious three hours, she quickly slipped out of the room.

Unfortunately, she wasn't quick enough to avoid Kogetsu. Cornered by the coffee pot, Jenny decided to pour herself another cup as she listened to his speech. Kogetsu was always trying to persuade or cajole or even bribe Jenny to visit his sister's art gallery in the hope that she would write it up for the society pages of the paper. She didn't object to giving some free publicity to a struggling entrepreneur, but she'd already written two articles about the gallery in the past four weeks. Lucky for Kogetsu, Jenny liked his sister, the gallery and usually the art she showcased.

She nodded her head in response to his enthusiastic call to support local up-and-coming artisans and glanced at her watch, hoping he would take the hint that she needed to be somewhere else soon. Of course, he did not, and she was forced to stand and listen another few minutes before she could interject to remind him that she wrote feature pieces, not advertising copy.

Somehow Kogetsu managed to look wounded by her remark, forcing Jenny to admit she'd already planned to cover the event — because it was an event and not because he'd asked her. Kogetsu didn't care about her reasons, of course, and she bit back a sigh as she turned away.

She'd taken only three steps toward the door when he stepped into her path.

He being a man she'd never seen before. At least, not before she'd caught him staring at her before the meeting. And several times during the endlessly long ordeal.

He was American — she'd known that immediately. It was more than just his impressive height and Western style of dress, it was the aura of success and self-confidence he wore as easily as the tailored suit jacket that stretched across his broad shoulders. She knew the type — she'd already fallen in love with and had had her heart broken by other men who fit the same mold. New York would be her first guess. Maybe Boston or Philadelphia. But definitely American and definitely trouble.

She spoke to him in Japanese, knowing he wouldn't understand the words and hoping he'd take the hint that she didn't want to talk to him.

His lips curved in an easy smile, but she wasn't in a mood to be charmed.

"I have no idea what you just said," he responded in English, "but the words sure sounded good rolling off your tongue."

"She said, "Please, excuse me," Yasushi translated for him.

Jenny couldn't help but be amused by the deliberately loose interpretation of her words. "Actually what I said was, "You're in my way."

The American's smile never wavered. "It sounded so much prettier in Japanese."

"The language is irrelevant," she said coolly. "The point is that you're blocking the door."

"I'm Richard Warren." He offered his hand.

After a brief hesitation, she accepted it, her initial reluctance bolstered by the unwelcome tingle that reverberated through her system. "Jenny Anderson."

"A pleasure to meet you, Jenny Anderson." He lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Is it safe to assume we won't need a translator for the next few minutes?"

"I don't have a few minutes." She realized he was still holding her hand and quickly tugged it from his grasp.

"Two minutes," he said, nodding to Yasushi, who discreetly stepped away.

She glanced at her watch, not bothering to hide her impatience. She had no inclination or interest in making conversation with any man whose simplest touch could affect her in such a way. Not any more. "Two minutes," she agreed.

He smiled again, clearly a man accustomed to getting his own way. "Have we met before?"

"No." Her tone was as succinct as the single word response.

"Are you sure?" he pressed. "Because you really look familiar to me."

"I'm sure, and if that's all —"

"It's not," he said.

She shifted the leather folio she carried from one hand to the other.

"It turns out I have the next few days free," he continued. "And I was hoping you might be willing to show a fellow American around."

"You might have the next few days free, Mr. Warren, but I don't."

"How about the nights?"

"Excuse me?" She shook her head, convinced she couldn't possibly have heard him correctly. "It wasn't an indecent proposal," he said, then gave her another one of those heart-stopping smiles. "I was suggesting that you could show me the sights after you finish work."

"I don't think —"

Her refusal was interrupted by arrival of Shiguro Taka, making her wonder if she would ever get out of the building and back to her own job.

"Miss Anderson." He gave a slight bow before turning his attention to the American, bowing more deeply. "Mr. Warren. I wanted to apologize personally for the mix-up at the airport yesterday."

"Not a problem," Richard said.

"It was a poor reflection of Japanese hospitality. You must let us somehow make up to you the inconvenience."

Jenny managed a small step closer to the door before Richard shifted, again blocking her path.