Heart of the Dragon (12 page)

“As long as you’re not here to ‘instruct’ me, I’m sure I’ll be able to resist.”

That comment didn’t sound the way she’d meant it. He smiled wickedly at her obvious dismay. “Good night. I’ll be in a room just around the corner. If you need anything.”

“I’ll order out for a pizza, thank you.”

“There are dozens of servants, and most of them speak English. They’ll bring you whatever you want.” His eyes flickered coyly. “As soon as you admit what it is.”

“Hmmm. That reminds me, I have a gift for you.”

She rummaged through her things and found her drawing paper. Rebecca handed him a carefully folded sheet. Giving her a somber look, he opened it and studied the coiled, cruelly smiling dragon. The dragon’s bulbous behind was covered with a baggy piece of cloth fitted like the one Kash had tied around himself.

Kash said drolly, “This isn’t accurate. My teeth are more pointed.”

“I’ll capture the real you eventually.”

“The ‘real me’ is beyond your reach.”

“I have a long reach.”

“And a vivid imagination.”

“It’s working overtime, trying to figure you out.”

He went to the door, his expression troubled, his chin
raised in the intractable but somehow appealing way she was coming to recognize. His eyes met hers in a challenge that made her knees weak. “In the Orient, mysteries are best left unsolved,” he warned.

After a breakfast of fruit and rice they walked outside into the lemony morning sun and strolled side by side down a pebbled garden path. It led away from the sprawling house among magnificent trees and flowers, all as neatly arranged as the landscape of a bonsai dish. Rebecca clasped her hands behind her back. The dappled light caressed her bare shoulders above a modest but formfitting white sundress. The appreciative look Kash had given her when she stepped out of her bedroom made her vividly aware of her body. Even the faint stirring of a flower-scented breeze made her skin tingle.

Kash’s arm brushed hers as they walked, and she darted glances at him. His white pullover and pleated white slacks gave him a breezy tropical attitude, especially in combination with his black hair and golden skin. She felt his presence in her blood like the warm breeze, stroking her from the inside out.

“You said you were only eight when you left Vietnam to live in America,” she said, searching for casual conversation. “And that you come back to this part of the world often.”

“Yes.”

“Then you must have had at least few good memories from your childhood.”

“The people and their customs will always be a part of me.”

Rebecca sighed. She suspected that vague answers were the best she’d get. “How many languages do you speak?”

“I speak Vietnamese and Thai fluently, and I can manage fairly well in Chinese.”

“I love Chinese script. Can you write Chinese?”

“A little.”

They entered a glade by a small brook. Rebecca inhaled softly in wonder over the stone bridge across it and the perfect lawn under a drooping willow. Even the rounded stones at the water’s edge seemed to have been artfully set there. “Everything has its place, and there’s such harmony in the arrangement,” she said breathlessly. “That’s at the heart of Eastern philosophies, isn’t it?”

“Yes. There’s serenity in knowing your place and fitting in well.”

“Do you have serenity, then?”

He laughed darkly. “I admire it. I understand it. That’s a start.”

She sat down on the smooth cushion of grass and tucked her feet under her. Kash dropped to his haunches beside her. When she glanced at him, he was watching her. “You have serenity,” he said. His eyes searched hers as if he could find the reason and absorb it.

“I don’t think so. I want so much.”

“What?”

“A combination of wild excitement and cozy routine. Adventure and safety.” She smiled. “Dorothy loved the land of Oz, but she was glad to get back to Kansas. I’m like Dorothy, except I want to take Oz home with me.” The intensity in his eyes made her look away and pretend to study a blade of grass. Rebecca smiled pensively. “How do you write ‘greedy’ in Chinese?”

He sat down close to her, picked up a twig, then took her hand and held it palm up. Slowly he drew invisible Chinese symbols in her palm. Trickles of sensation slid through her blood. Without thinking she dipped her head closer to his, watching the twig move across her skin, feeling every fiber of her body react to his hand cupping hers. Warmth flooded her cheeks and made the breeze feel fiery on her lips.

“That says ‘greedy’?” she whispered.

His eyes met hers with dark, almost feverish, attention. “It’s more of an abstract idea. ‘Eager to be pleased’ is what I wrote.”

She was hypnotized. “That sounds better.”

“There’s no harm in wanting to be pleased, Rebecca. Sharing pleasure doesn’t mean you’ve given up your ideals. It’s not selfish. It’s human. You’re a vital, passionate woman, and you shouldn’t ignore what the world offers you.”

“What am I being offered?” she asked, her tone full of meaning. They looked at each other for a long moment, unanswered questions churning in the silence.

“Just … pleasure,” he whispered. “Pure and simple. As innocent as it is uncomplicated. With no hidden motives, no games, no manipulation. And you control it. You let the pleasure serve you, and when you want to stop, it will stop.”

Her breath shattered in her throat. “That sounds too easy.”

He raised a hand and stroked a fingertip along her lower lip. “Thais believe in moderation, not self-denial.”

“This is one of the lessons you intend to teach me?”

He nodded. “If you’re willing to learn. Open your mind. Relax. Trust your instincts as well as your self-control.”

“I’ve never been less certain of either.”

“I disagree. You know
exactly
what you’d like to do at this moment. Take a chance. Indulge yourself a little. Trust yourself. Trust me.”

With a broken cry of confusion she kissed him. His muffled growl of encouragement exploded in her senses just as his welcoming caresses drew her into his arms. He lay back on the grass with her beside him. Still kissing with infinite care, they slowly stroked each other’s faces and hair.

Rebecca was stunned by his tenderness. It was even more profound than before, unhurried, exquisitely tuned to her sighs and the smallest shiftings of her
body. She braced herself on one elbow and leaned over him. His chest was a broad, enticing hardness under her sensitive breasts.

She drew a hand down his shirtfront, mesmerized by the swift rise and fall of his stomach, tingling at the thought that he was hers to enjoy, but afraid of the reckless urges rising inside her like a tornado. “Your touch is the most exciting thing I’ve ever felt in my life,” he told her. “Just feeling your fingers on my face makes me fall apart. Don’t stop.”

Shattering emotion curled around her. His strength attracted her, but his gentleness won her. It always had. She could no longer doubt that under the layers of defense was a man with needs as fragile as her own. The kisses they shared held wonder and hope. She caressed his jaw with the backs of her fingers, and he sighed happily against her parted lips. This man couldn’t hurt her, it was beyond him to do that. She knew it in her soul.

His hands were stroking small ecstasies on her bare shoulders. They slid down her back, tracing the zipper of the sundress’s snug bodice, trailing down to the swell of her hips, then back up, with luxurious light caresses, then harder, deliciously rough ones. Her legs tangled in his, and suddenly he rolled her onto her back. She drew him down to her for one devastating kiss after another, and his arms went under her in a tight, possessive embrace.

Rebecca’s senses were swimming with desire and the blinding knowledge that she would never meet another man who tormented her with wild passion but made her feel safe at the same time. “I do trust you. I do,” she said raggedly, stroking his sides with trembling hands. “And I want to know more about you. Whatever you can share.” She hesitated for a fraction of a second, then added in a low, emotional voice, “If it’s easiest for you to share your body first, then I’ll start with that.”

She kissed him but felt stillness sliding through him.
He held her tightly and kissed her back, twisting his mouth on hers as if he couldn’t get enough of her. He pulled his head back, his breath warm and coming fast on her lips. Surprise and a troubled frown shadowed his face. “Touch me,” he said gruffly.

He took one of her hands and guided it to his stomach. Her heart pounding, she stroked the shirt for a few seconds, then her hand drifted down to the edge of his trousers. Her eyes remained riveted to his as her hand moved lower. When it settled lightly on the thick ridge, the flash of reaction in his half-shut eyes and the quiver that ran through his body made her kiss him suddenly. A small, fervent moan sounded in the back of her throat.

But at the same time he gripped her forearms and carefully pushed her from under him. His frown had become a distracted, almost bittersweet expression. He sat up. His shoulders were hunched with tension, and the sculpted muscles of his back flexed harshly under his shirt as he took deep breaths. Propping his arms on drawn-up knees, he put his head in his hands and rubbed his face wearily. “I can’t do it,” he said. His voice was hoarse and angry.

Rebecca clutched a hand over her stomach and sat up also. Watching him desperately, she felt a cold weight form under her breastbone. “Do what?” she whispered.

“Take advantage of your enthusiasm.”

After a few speechless attempts to make sense of what was happening, she finally gave up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “I don’t understand. I thought something had changed between us. I thought you wanted me to do this.”

“I do. I don’t.” He groaned, a fierce sound that was so painful, tears of shock came to her eyes. He twisted to look at her. “I want you to make love to me but not care about me. I don’t want to care about you.” At her involuntary sound of grief he quickly took her hand and lifted it to his mouth. He kissed it hard. “But I do care
about you, and that’s why this isn’t going to go any further. I want to walk away from this job without looking back. I want to walk away from
you
without looking back.”

“How can you turn off your emotions that way?” She got to her knees and knotted her hands in her lap, clenching them into fists of confusion and anguish. “Why isn’t there any possibility that you and I could be happy together?”

“Because your definition of happiness means having cozy little heart-to-heart conversations. I don’t want to share who I am with you. I don’t need to. I just need a woman who lives for the moment and doesn’t ask questions.”

“A woman who doesn’t really care about you,” Rebecca countered. “A woman who doesn’t care about anything except what you can do for her in bed. I’m sure you can do a lot, and do it very well, but isn’t it a little lonely to give somebody nothing but the pretty parts of yourself?”

“My parts stand on their own merits,” he joked coldly.

“Kash,” she said in bittersweet rebuke. She grasped his hands and leaned forward, trying to analyze the glimmer of despair in his eyes. “What are you afraid of? Don’t be afraid of me.”

“I’m only afraid that I won’t be able to keep my hands off you, and you’ll expect more from me than I can give.” He rose to his feet and pulled her up with him. “Let’s go back inside. I’ll teach you something safe, like how to play Thai gambling games. Then I’ll turn you over to Madame Piathip for the afternoon. I have business in Bangkok. I won’t be back until tonight.”

She slid her hands out of his grip. “You can turn your emotions off much more neatly than I can.”

“I’ve practiced all my life.”

“I feel sorry for you.”

Sardonic humor appeared in the bitter line of his mouth. “You won’t after I teach you to gamble. I’ll win every kernel of corn you own.”

She started up the path to the main grounds of the estate. Shivering with anger, she called over her shoulder, “You’ve already taught me to gamble. Now I’m just trying to decide whether to call your bluff.”

As soon as Kash walked into the great hall late that night, the servant’s nearly uncontrollable amusement told him something strange was happening. The man’s enormous smile had a strained edge to it. “Madame Piathip wishes for you to visit her immediately.”

Frowning, Kash followed him upstairs to the gilded doors of Madame Piathip’s suite, which were cracked open. The servant popped inside while Kash waited, impatiently wondering what Madame Piathip wanted and how long it would take, because he’d hoped to stop by Rebecca’s room before she went to bed.

The servant hurried back, opening the doors wide. “You may go in.” His eyes were worried above a wide smile.

Kash strode into the large room and stopped abruptly. Madame Piathip sat primly on her delicate lacquered lounge, her feet crossed on silk pillows, mint-green silk robes billowing artfully around her.

Across from her, half-draped across a similar lounge, with huge pillows propping her up, Rebecca lay like a rag doll, head lolled back, arms stretched limply on the pillows around her, eyes half-shut. Her robe was pale blue, with fine embroidery at the neck and on the edges of the long sleeves. Her bare feet hung listlessly off the end of the lounge.

“Do come in,” Madame chirped, folding her hands around a teacup in her lap. “I want you to take Miss Brown away. I’m through with her.”

For all his attempt at control Kash nearly ran to Rebecca’s side. She gazed up at him with an owlish blink, her expression serene but still alert enough to
show she was upset at what had happened to her. He could see the mildly distressed look in her eyes, as though she’d had too much to drink and vaguely hated it. The blue in her eyes was eclipsed by dilated pupils, making him think of the dark eyes of a wounded deer.

“Glad to see you,” she said softly, her voice slurred and yearning. She kept her eyes trained on him as if “glad” was an understatement.

Protectiveness and anger boiled up inside him as he pivoted to face Madame Piathip. He knew he couldn’t voice his fury at what she’d done to Rebecca. The rules in Thai business relationships emphasized politeness to an extreme; even a mild complaint about the matriarch’s tactics would have been a grave insult to their relationship. Insulting her would mean Kash’s dismissal, and that would mean giving up his link to Rebecca.