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Authors: Bonnie Dee

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BOOK: Captive Bride
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“No. Nothing bad.” He shook his head. “You keep house for me and live here.”

He rested his head on folded hands, eyes closed in pretend sleep, but it only confused her more. Alan moved away from the door so she could get past him if she wished to.

He pointed at her. “You. Cook.” He made eating motions, then wiped his finger through the dust coating a small table and showed it to her. “Clean.” Understanding dawned in her eyes. “You.” She pointed at herself. “Cook.” She mimed eating then wiped the dusty wood. “Ceen.” Her nose wrinkled as she studied the dirt on her hand and repeated the word quietly to herself. “Ceen.”

“I know it’s filthy.” He smiled and was rewarded with a small smile that showed her adorable dimples.

Shu-Ann nodded emphatically and rattled off a stream of words in Chinese before repeating his English words carefully. “Chua Huiann cook. Ceen.”

“Great.” He started piling boxes. “I’ll clear this out and bring you some bedding from the store.” 58

Captive Bride

It didn’t take him long to empty the room, carrying piles to the store and earning more curious looks from Jeremy. Alan brought up a rolled mattress and blankets and dropped the bundle on the floor in the hallway.

Then he watched Shu-Ann sweeping her new bedroom with the broom he’d provided her.

Perhaps he should give her his room, have her sleep on a proper bed and take the smaller room for himself.

It felt wrong to sleep in relative luxury while his guest bunked on the floor. But she might think he was suggesting something if he offered his room. Only an exchange of labor for basic lodging would make their arrangement acceptable.

She couldn’t clean house while wearing a wedding dress so Alan went back to the store and selected one of the ready-made frocks. Most women bought fabric and sewed their own clothing, but he kept on hand a few dresses ordered from a catalog. His new housekeeper might not care for a Western-style gown, but it was all he had to offer.

When he held out the plain white blouse and navy blue skirt, Shu-Ann stared at them for several long moments.

He pointed at her dress. “Too fancy. You need work clothes.”

She bobbed her head and accepted the pile of clothing. Alan looked down on the top of her head, the shining blackness and the white line of her part. He imagined her combing her hair and pinning it up with those shell combs. The mental picture of her performing this intimate task made him ache. She was such a pretty, delicate thing yet with an iron will that had driven her to escape from her prison. Alan Bonnie Dee

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couldn’t imagine anyone hurting such a doll of a woman, but he knew well that some men simply enjoyed breaking things.

He stepped back. “I have work to do in the store.

Fix up your room and then rest. You must be exhausted from all you’ve been through.” Before he went downstairs, he remembered she’d have basic needs to satisfy and got the empty slop jar from his room. He set it on the floor by her door. “For your, uh, needs.” He gestured below his waist and Shu-Ann dipped her head, pressing her lips tight and flushing. “If you need anything else, I’ll be in the store.”

She bowed and rattled off a few words.

“You’re welcome.” He returned her bow and clumped down the stairs in boots that felt as if they weren’t touching the floor. He hadn’t felt this alive or excited about anything in years. For the first time in a long time, life seemed interesting.

When Alan entered the store, Jeremy was serving a customer. Alan ignored the clerk’s glances and went back to the task he’d been performing when Shu-Ann exploded into his world. Inventorying hardware was simple work, leaving most of his mind free to think of the woman upstairs. What was she doing right now?

What was she thinking? How long would she stay?

And good God, if she stayed, how would that impact on his fledgling political campaign?

If people discovered this woman was sharing his living quarters, it would be disastrous. During the heat of a campaign, his opponents would be looking for morally questionable behavior they could use as fodder against him. But it didn’t matter. He wouldn’t 60

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think of putting Shu-Ann out on the street because of what people might say or how her presence might hurt his chance of winning a seat on the board. His decision to help her might have been impulsive but it wasn’t unconsidered. He knew he was doing the right thing.

His next step would be to learn more about the man she’d run away from and whether he’d be searching for her.

Alan lost count for the third time and gave up trying to tabulate the bin of screws. The freight delivery arrived and he and Jeremy unloaded boxes and barrels. They spent the next hour unpacking their contents and restocking shelves. Alan could feel questions trembling on the tip of Jeremy’s tongue as they lifted a heavy rolled-up rug and carried it to the front of the store.

“I want this open for display, but I don’t want people walking all over it. We’ll hang it on the wall here.”

“Yes, sir.” Jeremy cleared his throat. “May I ask— ”

“I decided I needed a housekeeper so I hired one.” Alan stared at the younger man. “Taylor, please keep this information to yourself. No gossiping to anyone.

Understand?”

Jeremy nodded, but Alan could tell how much it pained him to bite his tongue.

After they’d hung the carpet, a hot and time-consuming project, Alan left Jeremy to mind the shop and went to check on Shu-Ann, bringing supplies with him.

She was in the kitchen, scrubbing the doors of the cupboards. She wore her hair in a single braid down Bonnie Dee

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her back and the front was tied in a kerchief. The blouse he’d given her hung loose. She’d rolled up the sleeves and tucked part of the skirt into the waistband to keep the hem from trailing on the floor. And somehow she was even more attractive in the oversized clothes and with the simple hairstyle.

She glanced over her shoulder at him, her cheeks pink from the effort of scrubbing. One long strand of hair clung to her sweaty face. She blew it back with a puff of breath and the purse of her lips made tension gather in his groin.

Ignoring his body’s automatic response, Alan set the items he’d brought on the table and patted the pile of fabric. “Can you sew? I’ve brought material for you.

And canned goods since there’s nothing in my cupboards. I usually eat at a restaurant.” He carried the tins of meat and vegetables to the counter near her and showed her how to open them.

“Like this.” He pushed the key into the slot on one of the cans and rolled the tin back to reveal a gelatinous brown substance inside. “Instant meat.” Shu-Ann sniffed the processed meat and winced.

“It’s hardly the butcher’s best cut, but it’s convenient. I have some beans here too, and peas. If you wouldn’t mind putting a meal together, I’ll show you how the stove works.”

He got out a pan, showed her where the utensils were and fetched more water from the communal pump in the courtyard behind the building. Five stores with apartments above backed onto this area. Dozens of people shared the water source and the communal outhouse. It wasn’t a pleasant-smelling courtyard.

62

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When Alan returned with a pair of full pails of water, Shu-Ann was slicing the blob of meat with a knife. Her mouth was downturned as if she were cutting up dog turds instead of meat. Alan chuckled at her expression and she glanced up and smiled. Damn, she had to stop doing that. Every time she did, he lost his Good Samaritan perspective and wanted to grab and kiss her.

Shu-Ann went to the table where the sheet of butcher paper lay and drew circles with little lines coming out of the top.

“Um, apples? You want me to bring you some apples? Sure.”

“Appu,” she said, and then spoke a word in Chinese.

“Ping,”
Alan echoed then went to get some from the store.

At the end of the day, after he’d bid Jeremy good-night and closed the shop, Alan returned to a fragrant kitchen. A cloth covered the set table and steam wafted from a pan on the stove. In the years he’d lived here, it was the first time he’d felt as if he was entering a real home.

A moment later, Shu-Ann padded down the stairs, her slippered feet almost silent. Alan bowed and she returned the greeting. She went to the stove and began dishing up a plateful of food while Alan sat down at the table.

After placing the plate in front of him, she went to the corner of the room and stood like a servant with her hands folded and her eyes downcast.

“Please, sit.” Alan gestured to the other chair.

She kept her eyes fixed on the floor, looking as if she’d like to sink into it. Perhaps she was trying to Bonnie Dee

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establish her place as a servant in his house, or maybe it was taboo for an unmarried Chinese women to eat with a strange man. Whatever the reason, Alan felt self-conscious shoveling food into his mouth while she hovered nearby. The meal was delicious. She’d done amazing things with the tinned beef and beans, adding slices of barely cooked apple and spices that gave it a different flavor and texture, but it was hard to swallow when he was the only one eating.

Alan devoured his food quickly. Before she could step forward and whisk it away, he rose and put it in the sink. Taking another plate from the cupboard, he filled it, set it on the table and pulled back the chair, making it impossible for Shu-Ann to refuse his offer.

She perched on the edge of the seat and touched the fork and spoon which Alan gave her. At last she chose the spoon, holding it awkwardly as she scooped a bite of food.

Alan left her to eat in peace, picking up the buckets to fill them at the pump. It was a balmy evening. A few stars were sprinkled in the square of sky surrounded by buildings on all sides. Alan didn’t like the confining courtyard penning him in, but ignored his growing sense of anxiety and concentrated on pumping water.

By the time he returned to the kitchen, Shu-Ann was washing the dishes. When he tried to help, she waved a hand at him and squawked like an angry jay.

She jabbed her finger at her chest, indicating it was her job.

He held his hands up in surrender and retired upstairs to leave her to her work. He removed his boots and washed up at the basin in his room then 64

Captive Bride

couldn’t resist a peek into the spare room to see what Shu-Ann had made of it.

The white dress hung from one of the hooks on the wall. The bedroll was laid out below the window, the green wool blanket tucked in so tightly there wasn’t a single wrinkle. The rest of the room was bare except for the little table he’d left in the room. She’d placed it beside the bed and on its surface were the two decorative combs she’d taken from her hair.

Alan walked across the bare, clean-swept floor and picked up the ivory combs. The strings of shells tickled his hand as they brushed against it. He lifted the combs to his face and sniffed, trying to catch a whiff of her hair. A noise from below made him jump.

He quickly set the combs back in place and retreated from the room to go sit in the parlor.

After lighting the lamp, he picked up the book on city planning he’d been reading the previous evening, but he could no more concentrate on the page than he’d been able to count screws earlier. The printed words swam in front of his unfocused eyes while he listened to the tiniest movement from the woman downstairs.

Finally, the stairs creaked as she came upstairs. His pulse quickened. Would she join him in the parlor? He wanted to try to communicate with her more.

But her soft footsteps headed toward her bedroom.

Alan felt a stab of disappointment as the door shut behind her. He let his book fall shut too and stared at the yellow flame in the lamp. He couldn’t stop picturing Shu-Ann in the next room, so pretty and so unattainable. He’d never take advantage of a woman in her situation but couldn’t smother the flame of lust that Bonnie Dee

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rose in him. He’d wanted her before he ever knew her, and now to have her settling to sleep on the opposite side of the wall was killing him.

Alan imagined going to her room, knocking on the door and being invited inside. He could almost feel how soft her hair and her skin would be and how her lips would feel under his. He imagined her hands gliding over his chest, his belly, unfastening his trousers and reaching inside, the firm grip of her hand around his cock.

The parlor was too warm, the air too stale. Alan tossed his book aside and hurried from the room. He had to get outside into the fresh air and take a brisk walk. That was the only way to eradicate the unbidden fantasies tormenting him. He definitely had to get his body and his mind under control before he proved true all of Shu-Ann’s worst suspicions about men.

Chapter Five

Huiann moved the night table in front of the door as if the flimsy piece of furniture would stop the big man from bursting into the room if he chose to do so.

Sitting on the thin sleeping mat on the floor, the blanket draped around her shoulders, she stared at the door as his heavy footsteps came down the hallway.

She leaped from the bed, bird wings fluttering madly in her chest as she pictured his hulking body filling the doorway. He could do whatever he wanted to her. If only she’d taken the sharp knife from the kitchen as she’d intended. But no, her foolish heart had told her it was safe to trust the white man’s welcoming smile. Now she had no weapon except her fingernails with which to fight him off.

But Alan Somma walked past her room without stopping and went downstairs. Moving close to the door, Huiann listened to the squeak of the hinges on the kitchen door as her benefactor left the building.

She breathed a sigh of relief and moved to the open window to catch a breath of fresh air. The wall of another building was only a few hand spans away. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse of the starry sky above. Below, footsteps caught her attention and she looked down to see the top of the giant’s head and his wide shoulders as he walked down the narrow alley toward the street. The pale streaks in his light brown hair caught the moonlight. She watched until he disappeared around the corner of the building.

BOOK: Captive Bride
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