Stone, Katherine (25 page)

The Jade Palace

Friday, October 29, 1993

The
bamboo scaffolding and emerald netting that cloaked the Jade
Palace wouldn't be removed until early December. Only then would Hong Kong know
whether James Drake's ambitious project was glittering treasure or glaring
folly.

But Sam already knew. Just as he'd been able to see the building
before the ground was ever broken, he could make invisible the green-and-bamboo
cloak—and what he saw was more magnificent than he'd dreamed.

But it paled in comparison to what he saw when he entered the
trailer that Friday afternoon—his cowgirl gazing out the window, her face
aglow.

"We did it," he said.

She met his smiling blue eyes. "You think so?"

"I know so. Don't you?"

"I guess I won't be certain until it's unwrapped."

"Well, I'm certain now. Which is why I think it's time to
start celebrating." He brushed aside a silken strand of hair that had
escaped her braid during her ferry ride across the harbor. "I've wanted to
do that for a very long time."

"Move my hair away from my eyes?" Did he hear her
breathlessness? Sense her trembling?

"Touch you," Sam clarified. Clarifying further, he
kissed the spot where the strand had been. "And kiss you."

"I've wanted you to."

Even as his lips were discovering her graceful neck, Sam forced
his mind to make swift calculations. He'd leave the site at ten. Twenty-five
minutes later, he'd reach his Trade Winds apartment, where he'd shower and
change.

"Invite me to your apartment, Jade, at 11:15 tonight."

Maylene stiffened. "Invite me to
your
apartment,
cowboy."

That wasn't how Sam Coulter played. He went to the woman's home.
And left when he chose, long before any demands were made.

Now Maylene was asking him to play by some dictum of her own. Sam wanted
no rules with her, no games, no playing at all. But...

"Okay, Jade. You're invited."

***

It might have taken Maylene forever to decide what to wear, but
early in the debate, a voice within hissed a mocking reminder. It doesn't
matter
what you wear! It's not your clothes he's interested in. Choose something
that's easy to get off—and even easier to put back on. No buttons to slow you
down after it's over. You'll want to escape very quickly from the deafening
silence of his disappointment.

But, her heart whispered, maybe he won't be disappointed.

Excuse
me? Where have you been all your adult life? You're as sexy as
ice, remember?

Yes, but when Sam touched me I felt warm and—

That's because
he
is so sexy. Which is all the more reason
he's going to be terribly disappointed when he discovers the truth about
you.

***

"I brought champagne," she said when Sam opened his
apartment door to her at precisely 11:15. T know you don't drink much."

"I don't drink at all." Sam took the champagne bottle
from her hands, waited until her eyes met his, and added softly, "And you
don't need this—not tonight."

Then, because she didn't quite seem to believe that, Sam set the
bottle down, freeing both hands for her. Cupping her face, he repeated,
"Not tonight."

Sam kissed her eyelids, her temples, her cheeks, savoring places
other men had never even sampled. Whereas others had wanted only the sultry
promise of her lips, Sam wanted every inch of her. It was as if he was trying
to learn all there was to know about her, as if he actually cared, and he
seemed to be telling her he'd cherish every secret, no matter how shameful it
was.

The ice within her was gone. But just before his mouth greeted
hers, she shivered.

"What are you afraid of?" Sam asked.

"Nothing."
Everything.
At the moment what Maylene
feared most was losing this chance, perhaps the only one she'd ever have, to
feel what it was like to be loved. Sam's desire for all of her, not just her
body, was an illusion. She
knew
that. But she could pretend for a while.

Sam saw the urgency of her desire and was acutely aware of his
own. He'd wanted her so much for so long. But he wanted their discovery of each
other to be lingering and leisurely—an unshakable foundation upon which they
would build and build.

"Are we in a hurry?"

"Yes."

She seemed worried, as if the passion might vanish. Sam knew it
wasn't true. But taking her hand, he led her to his bedroom.

As he reached to turn on the light, Maylene said, "No."

A ripple of worry shot through him. She wanted their loving to be
in darkness, and that was what he'd always preferred—when sex had been for
pleasure, not for love.

Tonight was different.

"I want to see you when I make love to you."

"No. Please."

Her voice was laced with such fear Sam once again acceded to her
request.

Maylene's wish to hurry
was
born of fear, and Sam's was
born of desire, but still he didn't rush. He possessed a confidence she
lacked—the certainty that their love was reality, not mirage.

He undressed her slowly, kissing each shadowed discovery, learning
all that could be learned without his eyes. Maylene had blinded him as surely
as Sir Geoffrey had blinded the Peak dragon, but the darkness merely made Sam's
remaining senses more acute.

She was fragrant, intoxicating, trembling, and for many moments
the only sounds he heard were the sighs of her desire. Then with a breathless
whisper, he heard her ask, "What are you doing?"

Loving you.
"Unbraiding your hair. What are you
doing?"

"Undressing you."

When her hands reached for the buttons of his shirt, Sam realized
that she wasn't expert at this at all. The uncertainty of her light, eager
touch made him want her all the more—to love, to protect, to cherish.

As the brave yet awkward caresses of her fingers conspired to
further fuel his desire and undermine his control, Sam finally stopped
fighting. This first time, they'd make love with the urgency they both felt,
and the time after that, or the next or the next, they'd go slowly.

Maylene's desire was as powerful as his. Yet in the moment they
became one, it was as if their desire held its breath.

Sam searched for her eyes, wanting to see a wonder that mirrored
his own. But the darkness was impenetrable. He found her eyes with his lips
instead, caressing the corners when they were open and the lids when they
fluttered closed. Even when passion compelled them to resume their loving, Sam
kissed the eyes he could not see.

***

His arms cradled her, and her head lay on his chest, and she could
hear his thundering heart.

Maylene heard another thunder, a voice stunned into silence as
they loved, but silent no more.

You really fooled him! it said. At least, he
seemed
to
enjoy himself. Don't forget, he's been working nonstop for months. That's a lot
of abstinence for a man as sexy as Sam. Any woman would've done quite nicely.
Even you couldn't disappoint.

But he's through with you. And, although for you it was more than
you'd ever imagined, when he thinks about it, he'll remember how awkward you
were, how uncertain—yet desperate in your need.

Can you hear his heart? Unlike yours, it's slowing already. He's
accustomed to this sort of passion. It's routine for him, practically a form of
exercise. Soon his well-conditioned lover's heart will be beating at its normal
pace, as leisurely as a Texas drawl. He'll let go of you then and reach for a
cigarette. Oh, you thought he'd given them up? For
you?
Forever? Have no
doubt, he'll light up tonight. He's had you. The seduction is over.

Any second now he's going to pull away. If you were in
your
apartment,
he'd leave. But that's why you're here, remember? So you can make the first
move. You'd better hurry. His heartbeat's becoming nice and slow.

She didn't want to leave! She wanted to spend the rest of her life
right here, in his arms, pretending his tenderness had been love, not
expertise. But she'd already indulged in enough fantasy tonight, and her only
hope of preserving what memories she had—as fanciful as they might be—was to
leave before he let her go.

Sam sensed Maylene's move for freedom and released her. He'd been
holding her too tightly, wanting her as close to him as she could possibly be.

Sam expected her to breathe, stretch, return to his arms. They'd
entwine more loosely and whisper between kisses...

But Maylene was getting out of bed. In the darkness Sam heard her
getting dressed.

Then there was a new sound, his voice, and it spoke a question
he'd heard many times but never asked. It had been asked
of
him
as
he made his swift—but never this swift—escape. "Are you leaving?"

"Yes."

Please stay.
The plea didn't travel to Sam's lips. It
remained inside, swaddled in fury. Had the women whose beds he'd precipitously
left felt anger like this? He'd never pretended to offer more than passion. And
neither had Maylene. From her insistence that they meet at his place to her
wish to make love in darkness, she'd wanted what he always had— sex without
caring, intimacy without affection, the demands of desire without the gentler
demands of love.

Sam had been looking for such a passionate—and dispassionate—lover
all his life.

At last he had found her.

As Maylene disappeared in the darkness, Sam couldn't imagine
touching her ever again.

***

Recidivism. Maylene remembered the sexy gleam when he'd said it
was a mighty big word for a cowboy. He'd been seducing her then, luring her
ever closer to his bed.

Now she'd been there, and he'd allowed her to leave without so
much as a goodbye, and the memory was drenched in pain, the fantasy so
shattered she wished the night of pretend loving had never happened.

She'd relapsed completely—a total surrender to recidivism. Every
self-destructive urge she possessed was searching for ways to punish her for
her foolishness.

She didn't need to go to the construction site, not today. Not
ever. The on-site decisions between builder and architect were a thing of the
past. Indeed, Sam had timed his ultimate seduction so their paths need never
cross again. His involvement with the hotel would be finished within days of
its early December unveiling. What remained would be cosmetic and was already
in the capable hands of the designer responsible for the Trade Winds decor.

Maylene doubted Sam would stay for the grand opening. He had more
buildings to build, more challenges to meet, more women to seduce. In six
weeks, he'd be gone. Between now and then, she could send the interior
blueprints to him by courier.

But she went to the site anyway. She dressed as she had before the
seduction, in a suit by Dior with matching stiletto heels, her hair knotted
atop her head.

Sam was standing in front of the Palace's main entrance, talking
to Chang Lu, when Maylene arrived. He was facing away but turned, as if sensing
her presence despite the expansive marble drive. Maylene felt his eyes follow
her to the trailer and knew he'd join her when he was done talking with Lu.

It didn't take long. Worry flickered when he first saw her. It
vanished quickly, replaced by a mocking glint as he appraised her attire.

"I see you're not planning to climb up on any beams with me
today."

I will if you want me to! Maylene crushed the foolish thought—or
so she believed. It bounced back almost immediately, reminding her of another
lost love. And, as if she'd actually had the courage to agree to Allison's plan
for a mother-daughter reunion, she lied. "I'm meeting someone for tea at
the Peninsula. I'm a little early."

"So you figured you'd drop by to ask how my weekend
was?"

Maylene lifted her chin. "Yes."

"Well, let's see. It actually began quite well.
Unfortunately, it deteriorated rapidly. How was
your
weekend, Maylene?
Completely satisfying? Everything you dreamed it could be?"

Sam was disappointed, as she'd known he would be. His heart might
have thundered with passion, but she hadn't satisfied him. "It was
fine."

"Everything you wanted?"

"Did you want more?"

"Sure." His lazy cowboy smile was seductive—and predatory.
"I wasn't through with you, not by a long shot."

What did that mean? That he wanted to see her again? To give her
another chance despite how disappointing she'd been? And if that
was
what
Sam wanted, would she agree?

Of course she would. Every self-destructive cell in her body was
searching for more ways to be hurt... and there was a tiny, hopeful place still
looking for love.