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Authors: Deborah Smith

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BOOK: Heart of the Dragon
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But Kashadlin Santelli’s shrewd, overtly masculine attention made her want to touch her face and discover what fascinated him, whether it was good or bad. “I’ll find out
exactly
who and what you are,” he told her. “And I hope you’re what you claim to be.”

She exhaled roughly. “I am.”

“A minister’s old-maid daughter? Is that what you are?”

“That’s part of what I am, sort of. Yes, my dad was a Methodist minister. A retired army chaplain. When he was in the army, he was stationed in Thailand for several years. Back in the early sixties.”

“So that’s where your bizarre story begins.”

“Bizarre? At least you didn’t call it ‘insane,’ which is what one of the Vatan executives said. I’m progressing.”

“You’re aware, of course, that Ms. Vatan’s father was a British Army Officer who was killed in a military accident not long after her mother died?”

“I’m aware that everyone believes that story, but it’s not true.”

“Because your father, a retired army chaplain in Iowa, told you a different story, about the heiress of a very well known Thai silk company?”

Rebecca leaned toward him, clenching her fists at her sides. “Because when he was dying, my father told me
about his first wife and their daughter, whom he loved very much. He wasn’t the kind of man who lied.”

“Only the kind of man who could desert his Thai wife and daughter then?”

“He didn’t desert them!” she said loudly. Kashadlin Santelli didn’t blink, though she was inches from his face. She realized how close she was, and how hard her heart was pounding. “His wife died, and her family took the baby. He was never able to get her back. Because he was a foreigner, he had no rights.”

“So he waited all these years to mention this lost daughter to you. Why?”

“That’s for me to discuss with my half sister.”

Kash’s fascination with her turned to anger. It was time to stop the charade. “No, that’s for you to discuss with me. If I think there’s any merit in your story, I’ll report it to her.”

“Then I’ll stay in Thailand until I find her myself.”

“With the help of your employers?”

“My what?” She stared at him openmouthed.

He grabbed her by the wrists and pinned her arms against his chest. In one swift, graceful move he backed her against his massive desk. She stumbled and sat down on the beveled edge. It pressed into her hips, while his fingers pressed into her arms. Her shout of shock broke off in speechless disbelief as he trapped her with his body. Her precarious balance made her struggle for a foothold; one foot was drawn up, the other slipping on the sleek tapestry rug under the desk. He pressed tightly against her from chest to thigh, with her legs splayed around him. Rebecca’s skirt bunched up between her thighs but was barely a cushion for his lower body. His hipbones pressed hard against her soft flesh.

“Be still,” he ordered mildly. “I simply want you to pay attention to what I’m about to say.”

“Where I come from, a man doesn’t assault a woman to make her listen to him.”

“If this were an assault, it would clearly be painful. I haven’t hurt you. In fact, I guarantee that I won’t hurt you. Which is more than you can promise me about your intentions.”

“I have no intentions other than to meet my half sister!”

“You work for the Nalinat family. Admit it.”

“I never heard of them! Let go of me!”

“You’re not in America. There’s no place to run to, no one to call for help. If you want to be trusted, you’ll have to trust me, believe every word I tell you.” He bent his head closer, and his dark eyes bored into hers without blinking. “Ms. Vatan had no American army chaplain for a father. She and her relatives have said so, and that’s why no one will allow you to see her. There’s no point. We know you’re lying.”

“No. I don’t understand why no one will agree with my story, but it’s true.”

“You’re working for the Nalinats. If not, then you’re a fool for stepping into the middle of a very ugly feud between them and the Vatan family.”

Furious, she struggled against him. “I wish I knew who these Nalinats are! I’d love to know something that’s supposed to be so important to me!”

He pulled her tighter against him. “Calmly, calmly,” he commanded. Kash saw the blazing disgust in her eyes. He searched for fear, for lies, also, but found only the fury. He’d already noticed too much that had nothing to do with his work—the opalescent flecks in their blue background, the seductive way the dark brown lashes swept down at the outer corners.

“I know what the Nalinats are trying to accomplish,” he told her. “I just don’t know what part you play in it. But whatever they’re paying you, it isn’t worth it. This feud is over. Mayura Vatan will never marry their son, no matter how much the Nalinats threaten or harass her. Now why don’t you pack your bags and go back to Iowa—or wherever you’re from.”

“Tell Mayura Vatan that her half sister is staying in Thailand until she agrees to meet me! I think I can prove the truth, but I’m not going to try with anyone but her. I don’t know anything about this family feud. I swear!”

“If you stay and if you cause trouble, you’ll answer to me.”

“What kind of threat is that?”

Kash debated for a moment. It only mattered that she believe him capable of carrying out his threats, not whether he could stoop so low. “Do you know what can happen to a woman alone in Bangkok? The pleasure trades are not discriminating about the strangers they absorb. People disappear here—they’re sold, bought, or simply bartered for more valuable goods. If you cause me trouble, I’ll make certain you spend the rest of your life in a manner you don’t want to imagine.”

Her sharp gasp gave him a sense of victory, but at the same time he regretted it. What if she was telling the truth?
You were hired to protect Mayura Vatan, not this stranger
, he reminded himself.

“You sound like a B-movie villain,” she said bitterly, though her voice shook a little. “I haven’t done anything wrong, and if you try to hurt me, you’ll get more than you bargained for.”

“Hurt?” he repeated, smiling harshly. She didn’t give up. Her bluster was impressive. “I told you I wouldn’t hurt you. There are ways to make a woman behave that have nothing to do with pain.”

He closed his mouth over hers in a taunting kiss, catching her when her lips were half-open. Kash felt the stiffening of her body in rejection at the same time that the sweet softness of her mouth exploded in his senses.

She couldn’t want him to kiss her. He knew that. He didn’t expect to feel anything himself, as he twisted against her and her hands sank into his coat sleeves, tugging fiercely. But for one shattering moment he wasn’t trying to make a point and she wasn’t trying to resist. For one instant the kiss was a heated caress, as
shocking as the thoughts that cascaded through his mind in an angry, urgent chant.

Be who you say you are, Rebecca Brown. Be someone special. Please. I want to know what you are, everything you are
.

Suddenly she clamped her mouth shut and wrenched her head away. He saw her stunned expression and flushed skin; he heard the splintered panting of her breath, and his own. He knew why he was upset. He didn’t like the effect she had on him, the element of desire that lay underneath the tension. He was wary of her.

But she was terrified of him. He saw that in her wide-eyed stare, the way it remained frozen on him, as if she was desperately trying to guard herself against whatever he would do next. Her hands were shaking so hard that he felt the tremors through his clothes.

Kash looked down at her in speechless realization. He’d never forced a woman to kiss him before. He’d never caused one to fear him physically. For someone with his background to play this kind of game was beyond excuse.

Self-rebuke shot through him so strongly that his stomach twisted with nausea. He let go of Rebecca Brown and stepped back. Being turned loose caught her off guard. She nearly toppled off the desk.

“We’ll meet again, unless you leave the country,” he told her in a brusque voice. “You don’t want to meet me again.”

“I don’t want to even
think
about you again.” She grabbed her satchel and purse, then shook out her skirt with a violent motion of one hand. Her blue eyes glittered. Even her shoulder-length brown hair seemed to be quivering. “But I’m not leaving Thailand until I meet my half sister.”

Kash cursed under his breath, but her anger reassured him. He’d rather have her angry at him than afraid. He wished she were telling the truth. Rebecca
Brown, successful cartoonist, minister’s daughter, self-proclaimed old maid, and corn-fed wholesome Iowa princess, ought to be for real. The world needed more ordinary, likable people. But there was nothing ordinary about the recklessness she brought out in him.

“You’ve picked your fight,” he said, as she brushed past him and went to the doors. “I only hope you change your mind quickly.”

She opened the door and halted, drawing herself up with dignity as she looked back at him. “When I came here to find Mayura Vatan, I decided to take chances and do things I’ve never done before.” She gave him a bewildered, somewhat despairing once-over. “I thought I’d fall in love with Thailand. I have. But I never expected to find so much ugliness here. You personify it.”

He bowed sardonically and pressed his hands together in a
wai
as she shut the door softly behind her. But her words lingered, and troubled him.

Two

Rebecca put the finishing touches on a wicked cartoon drawing of Kashadlin Santelli. She’d sketched him on a hotel notepad, while soaking in the bathtub with a hot towel wedged behind her neck. In her drawing he was a fanged dragon in a tailored suit, with a long, scaly tail curled around him. Scribbling violently, she filled in the dragon’s eyes so they’d have the appropriate dark glare to them.

The phone rang as she was toweling herself off. Rebecca heard it vaguely, not only because her hearing aid lay on the bedside table but because her thoughts were still on her dragon. Glancing at herself in the dresser mirror on her way to the phone, she noted the excited flush on her face and breasts. Rebecca groaned silently in self-rebuke and wrapped the towel around her slender torso. All right, so there was something a little exhilarating about the memory of being grabbed and kissed by him. Dragons were in short supply in Iowa.

“You ought to be ashamed,” she muttered at herself as well as him, as she picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“Hello,” answered a pleasant female voice with a Thai accent. “Ms. Brown?”

“Yes.”

“This is Mayura Vatan. I’m sorry for all you’ve been through. I think it’s time we met.”

After a speechless second Rebecca asked numbly, “Are you really Mayura? I’m sorry, but I’ve been misled a lot during the past two weeks.”

“I assure you, I’m real.”

“But I thought there was no chance of my seeing you.”

“I’m afraid we Thais are a little suspicious of foreigners. But I’m intrigued by your story. I’ve never known much about my parents. I don’t see how you and I could be related, but I’d like to talk with you.”

Rebecca sighed in relief. “Mr. Santelli must have decided to trust me.”

For a moment there was only silence. Then the caller said, “Why, yes.”

Even though Santelli’s change of heart was bewildering, Rebecca silently thanked him. Perhaps she’d give the dragon a smile. “I can’t wait to meet you!” she said to Mayura.

“Nor I, you. Come to the Farang Restaurant. The hotel people can tell you how to find it. In about an hour?”

“Yes! Thank you!”

Rebecca dressed in a pinstriped summer dress of white and blue, pulled a thin white jacket over it, and spit-polished her white flats. She considered her modest, ordinary clothes no more a reflection of her personality than her hearing aid. She might be conservative, but not narrow-minded. From her father she’d learned not to judge people by their looks, and that included herself. Shooting a hard glance at the dragon cartoon she’d tossed on the bed, she decided that Kashadlin Santelli’s stunning physical appeal and beautiful clothes were proof that appearances could be deceptive. Inside, he was a big, cold-blooded lizard.

Around her neck she put a thin gold chain and caressed the small pendant, a faded and scratched cloisonné lotus blossom. It was one of two pieces of
jewelry belonging to Mayura’s mother. Rebecca’s father had saved them for almost thirty years. He’d given both to Rebecca only a few days before he died. They weren’t valuable except for the sentiment, but they were Rebecca’s only real hope of convincing Mayura Vatan of the truth. She hadn’t shown them to anyone else because she’d wanted to share them first with her half sister. That sentiment had cost her time and trouble, she knew, but now it would be repaid.

The other piece of jewelry, an earring, was in the hotel safe. On her way out Rebecca almost stopped and requested it, but a cautious inner voice made her change her mind.

Halfway to the restaurant, as she bounced in the passenger seat of a sputtering
tuk tuk
, she realized she’d forgotten her satchel containing photos of her father. He’d had no pictures of himself with Mayura or her mother, but Rebecca had hoped the photos of him would show his and Mayura’s resemblance. Rebecca decided to go on without them; with any luck, this would only be her first meeting with her half sister. There’d be time later for sharing everything else.

On a street filled with elegant shops and eateries, most with signs in both English and Thai, the
tuk tuk
driver stopped in front of a pagodalike building. Traffic, as usual, streamed around him in an impatient rush, and the sidewalks were full of many foreigners like herself, a clean-cut tourist crowd. “Hurry, please,” the driver warned, smiling. “Or we’ll be pushed aside like an ant.”

Laughing, Rebecca handed him a generous number of bills as she got out. “Ms. Brown?” someone called. She turned quickly and saw a uniformed Thai chauffeur waiting beside a long black limousine, which had just pulled up behind the
tuk tuk
. “Yes?”

He gestured toward the passenger door he’d opened. “Please. Miss Vatan is here.”

BOOK: Heart of the Dragon
7.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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