Stone, Katherine (7 page)

James withdrew, leaving Maylene alone with the tall, dark stranger
from Texas... and with her own rising sense of panic.

Sam Coulter had
tricked
her. He was supposed to have been a
caricature of a cowboy, instantly identifiable by his clothing and his speech.
But he wore a tailored gray suit, not battered jeans, and dark brown hair, not
a Stetson, covered his head.

And the accent that should have betrayed him? The lazy, insolent
twang? His Southern drawl had been so soft—or so hidden—she hadn't detected it.

And the greatest trickery of all: the way she'd felt when he'd
effortlessly broken her fall and appraised her with such interest. Maylene had
no name for those feelings. But they were completely, and dangerously, in his
control.

She
was supposed to have been in control, working with the Texan
because the Jade Palace meant so much to her and she needed him to make it
happen. Maylene had planned to be dazzlingly polite, all the while fortifying
herself with disdain.

And now?

The sexy blue eyes were glinting at her, invoking rushes of heat
that were thrilling and terrifying.

"Please have a seat," Maylene offered.

"In a moment. I think I'll wander around your office first
and admire the photographs of the buildings you've designed." Sam didn't
wander. But his eyes did, feigning amazement as they surveyed the barren walls.
"Oh, I see there aren't any."

"I left them in London. The cost of transporting them all
would have been immense. I take it you brought yours with you, Mr.
Coulter?"

"No, Ms. Kwan. But I didn't really need to, did I? Is this
your first major project? Be honest."

His expression told her he wasn't going to let her be anything
else. "Yes."

"Ain't love grand?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"Let's face it, your only credential for this project is that
your lover happens to be paying for it."

"James and I aren't—" She stopped herself.

"You and James aren't what, Maylene? Aren't lovers?"

"That's hardly any of your business."

"But it is. My business is building buildings. Anything that pertains
to the success—or failure—of that endeavor is my concern. The Jade Palace may
be a lark for you, but for me it's a very serious undertaking."

"As it is for me. I'm an architect. This is my career."
This
is all I have, all I ever will have.
"James and I met
after
he
chose my design for his hotel. We have immense respect for each other, but our
relationship is professional—as it should be."

Do you have a lover?
a wholly unprofessional
voice wanted to know. Clamping down on that query, Sam said, "Let me tell
you about my usual professional relationship with an architect, okay? We work
very closely. Each of us brings to the project a spirit of cooperation—and, of
course, our energy and expertise."

Glancing at the sheaves of blueprints strewn around the office,
Sam decided Maylene had ample energy, and her impassioned response to his
suggestion that the Jade Palace was merely a lark for her had convinced him it
was terribly important to her, too. But
wanting
it to succeed wasn't
enough.

"I admit I don't have much experience," Maylene said.
"But before leaving London, I showed the blueprints to several top
structural engineers."

Sam arched a slightly skeptical eyebrow. "Do you remember
what they said?"

She had the right to bristle, and did before her sedate reply.
"I wrote everything down."

"I'd be very interested in seeing what you have."

Maylene turned to a file cabinet, removed a manila folder and
handed it to him. "I meant to type my notes but I haven't had a
chance."

Sam opened the thick file and scanned the top handwritten sheet.
Her writing was legible and unadorned, and her notes revealed a focused grasp
of what was going to be so difficult about building the Jade Palace. He was
grudgingly impressed.

"Do you mind if I just take a look at these now?"

"No, please go ahead. If there's something you don't
understand... can't read..."

Sam smiled. "I'll feel free to ask. Meanwhile, please have
the others come back in. I don't want to impede progress and I assure you they
won't bother me."

"The others?"

"The people who are assisting you with the drafting." It
seemed an unnecessary clarification, but it caused uncertainty in her—a
vulnerability that evoked in Sam the astonishing urge to protect her.
Clarifying further, with a gentleness that surprised them both, he said,
"There are three computers in this office, Maylene."

"I'm using all of them."

"No one's helping you?"

"Several local firms have offered, but so far I think I'll be
able to do everything myself."

***

"Would you like a cigarette?"

Sam's question ended an hour of concentrated silence, he studying
her meticulous notes, she working at one of her three computers.

Good, Maylene thought as his question registered. Finally he was
behaving according to type. A Marlboro man. She could feel disdain—and, as a
result, impose control on the effect he had on her.
Couldn't
she?

Turning from the computer screen to him, she answered,
"No." Then, smiling prettily, she added, "Thank you."

"Do you mind if I smoke?"

"Yes, I do."

She was on the moral high ground here. As she waited for Sam to
light up despite her objection, to reveal his true cowboy boorishness, she felt
a little disappointed at the impending triumph. Some foolish—yet defiantly
hopeful—part of her didn't want to bid farewell to the feelings he evoked.

There was to be no farewell. Once again he tricked her. With a
nonchalant shrug, he returned to his reading without a cigarette.

They didn't speak until they were preparing to meet James for
lunch.

"I'd like you to spend some time at the construction site with
me, Maylene."

"Oh, yes, of course."

"How's tomorrow afternoon, say about three?"

Maylene consulted her desk calendar. "Three's fine. Should
James be there, too?"
Shouldn't
he be?

Amusement glittered at her hesitancy in being alone with him.
"I can't imagine why."

The Jade Palace

Salisbury Road, Kowloon Peninsula

Thursday, June 10, 1993

As
Maylene approached the trailer that would serve as Sam's on-site
office, she felt a disconcerting mix of annoyance and apprehension.

The annoyance was fully justified. Sam had already walked the
property with James, and although she might have been flattered that he was
bothering to repeat the process with her, as if he valued her input, she knew
he didn't. He just wanted her on his turf, in his lair, to make further
disparaging remarks about her lack of expertise.

And the apprehension she felt? It was, she feared, eagerness in
disguise. Some utterly mad part of her wanted to be caressed by his dark blue
eyes and feel once more the warm— and strangely joyous—sensations.

The trailer door was ajar. Maylene entered without knocking... and
saw the strong, lean silhouette of a cowboy. He wasn't wearing a hat, nor did
she see one, and his denim work shirt was open at the collar, not cinched with
a string tie. His belt buckle was brass, not silver, and without stones of any
kind. But his jeans were well-worn, saddle-worn, and his boots were badly
battered.

He was absolutely still, yet absolutely powerful. A portrait of
arrogance—and of a loner, a maverick, a man who cared only about his horses,
his cigarettes, his land.

Before speaking, Maylene drew a calming breath, inhaling the scent
of cigarette smoke as she did.

"Mamas, don't let your babies grow up to be cowboys."

Sam had been thinking about her, gentle thoughts, so he heard more
fondness than contempt in the familiar country-western lyric spoken in her
elegant English. Only when he turned did he realize her words were far from
teasing.

Wishing he had a Stetson to tip, he drawled slowly, "Well
howdy, Miss Maylene, ma'am. Mighty fine day, ain't it?"

He perused her with a laziness as slow and sexy as his drawl.
Yesterday her suit had been flame-colored, and today she wore navy trimmed in
white, but like yesterday she looked as if she'd just stepped off the runways
of Paris. Today's heels were even higher than yesterday's.

"I assume you brought your work clothes. Feel free to change
in the other room."

"These are my work clothes."

The cigarette that smoldered in Sam's left hand went slowly to his
mouth and stayed there. Its curls of smoke narrowed the appraising eyes.

He's a cowboy! Maylene reminded herself as the giddy warmth came
alive. A cowboy Pied Piper, beckoning to sensations she'd never known, luring
them to the surface and compelling them to follow wherever he chose. He's
arrogant, chauvinistic, despicable.

But so sexy, the renegade sensations purred. Even the way he
smokes is sexy.

The way he smokes? With that came a semblance of control. "I
hope you don't die of lung cancer before the hotel is completed."

Sam grinned, stamped out the cigarette, and said, "Really?
You care?"

"Just about the hotel. So, are we going to walk around?"

***

The earth was parched, thirsty for the summer rains. Ruts left by
tractors were hard as rock. Maylene teetered but didn't stumble, a feat accomplished
through sheer will.

Sam had spent much of the previous night worrying about how he and
Maylene were going to work together. It was essential they focus on the hotel
without distraction. Peripheral issues, such as their personal feelings for each
other, didn't belong in the workplace. But it would help if those feelings,
good or bad, were clearly defined.

We don't like each other. Fine. We're grown-up professionals.
Let's proceed with the task at hand.

Or... we're attracted to each other. Fine. We're consenting
adults. Let's do something about our attraction after hours.

But Sam's feelings for Maylene weren't clearly defined. They were
ever-changing, as mercurial as she, one moment stormy, the next dazzling. She
seemed just as confused.

For the next seven months, he and Maylene needed to be united in
their commitment to the project. After a sleepless night, Sam had no answer as
to how they'd achieve such accord—and he'd have greeted with skepticism the
suggestion that it would happen on its own.

But it
did
happen. Today. Amid the dust of the parched
earth and beneath a blazing sun, they talked with quiet excitement about the
Jade Palace. And, as he raised logistical problems her design presented, she
acknowledged possible changes that might need to be made.

They walked the entire site, ending up at the harbor's edge. When
their eyes met, there was intimacy in his, a wish for the kind of passion she'd
never be able to fulfill.

Maylene's response was fueled by fear—and disappointment for them
both. "Is there anything else you wanted to discuss, cowboy?"

"About the hotel? No, I think that just about covers it for
now... Jade."

"You really are a bastard, aren't you? A redneck Texan
complete with all the prejudices."

Many an angry woman had called him a bastard. It wasn't
technically accurate, but as a description of his behavior it had on numerous
occasions been quite apt. But he'd never been accused of prejudice against
anyone, ever.

It bothered him—a lot.

"I think you'd better spell out what you mean. Real slow,
ma'am. We rednecks have a reputation for being pretty stupid."

"You've been prejudiced against me since the moment we
met."

Sam's dark blue eyes sent a reminder of how they'd met. Only when
he was certain her memory had traveled to the Trade Winds lobby, where there'd
been, at the very least, a powerful chemistry, did he reply.
"Hardly."

"I meant in the office," Maylene countered swiftly.
"When you discovered I was the architect."

For the past hour, they'd been able to discuss the problems
inherent in the creation of the Jade Palace and what could be done to overcome
them. Working together when obstacles loomed, they could make her vision come
to life.

Sam wanted something even more extraordinary than the Palace—a
meaningful, emotional relationship with Maylene. He'd never wanted more than
the ordinary before. But now he did, with this complicated woman. It was an
illusion, perhaps—and, as with the illusion of her hotel, if attention wasn't
paid to the tiniest detail, disaster would result.

Maylene's accusation of prejudice was, of course, more than
detail. It threatened the foundation itself.

"Your belief that I'm prejudiced against you is something we
need to talk about," Sam said. "Please tell me, specifically, in what
ways you believe that to be true."

"My age."

"Which is what?"

"I'll be twenty-eight on January first, the day after the
Palace opens." She lifted a defiant chin. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-six." Sam didn't need to elaborate that, in
their business, eight years translated into a significant difference. "I
have no problem with your age, Maylene, although I fully admit that when I
first saw you, I was concerned about your experience—or lack thereof. But I'm
getting over that. Next prejudice, please."

"My sex."

"If I were a card-carrying redneck, I suppose I
would
have
a little trouble with that. And I confess that until yesterday I believed I
would be meeting a 'Michael' not a 'Maylene' Kwan." The lazy half smile
that was devastating proof of his innate sexuality touched his lips. "But
I'm really a nineties kind of guy. I think I'm going to be able to adjust
without difficulty. So there, I'm not prejudiced against you."

Sam hoped for a smile in return, but Maylene's expression remained
grave. And, he thought, ashamed.

"What, Maylene? Tell me."

"My race."

"Your
race?
You think I'm prejudiced against you
because you're Chinese?"

"Half Chinese," she corrected harshly, punishingly.

The punishment, Sam realized, was directed toward herself. He
ached for her pain and cursed himself for having unwittingly caused it. Did she
truly believe "Jade" had been a taunt, a reminder that her mixed—and
apparently shameful— parentage glowed in her beautiful eyes?

"I'm not prejudiced against you because of your heritage,
Maylene. It's terribly important that you believe me. Look at me. Please."

In response to the tenderness in his voice, her downcast lashes
lifted. Sam saw what,
please,
looked like hope.

"Although I recognize you might not have meant it in an
entirely positive way, to me 'cowboy' is a term of endearment." His
teasing caused the faintest smile. "I called you 'Jade' as a compliment.
We're building the Jade Palace, after all, and it's my understanding that jade
is highly prized."

He stopped, worried again that he might have inadvertently caused
pain. Jade was greatly valued by the Chinese. Imbued with mystical powers
against evil, it was considered a symbol of wealth, beauty, virtue. But Maylene
was only half Chinese, and apparently ashamed of her mixed heritage. Did she
exclude herself from the beliefs and traditions of those whose blood was pure?

Maylene rescued him, rescued
them.
"Yes, jade is
highly prized."

"I knew it was the right nickname for you." Sam's voice
was calm even as his heart thundered with relief. Maylene's worry about his
prejudice against her was an enormous obstacle. They'd overcome it together. He
wanted to learn more about her, everything about her—and knew it was too soon.

Instead he smiled... and she smiled... and this time when Maylene
felt quivers of panic at the intimacy, instead of bristling, yet needing to
look away, she turned toward Victoria Harbour. Sam followed suit, and for a
while they marveled in companionable silence at the maritime tableau.

The harbor was a cauldron of activity. Ancient junks crossed the
wakes of ultramodern hydrofoils, sampans darted amid container ships and cargo
freighters, and
walla-wallas
and Star ferries provided passage between
Hong Kong Island and Kowloon. A warship, too, floated atop the choppy green
waters, and a mahogany-hulled sloop skimmed across the white-tipped waves. At
one time, the journey from peninsula to island could only be made by boat. Now
Rolls-Royces streamed through a car tunnel beneath the sea, and through its own
submerged conduits, the Mass Transit Railway sped its passengers to the other
side. A flock of helicopters shuttled those who preferred to be transported
high above the salty air.

"Oh!" Maylene exclaimed.

"What's wrong?"

"As I was leaving to come over here, Mrs. Leong, James's
administrative assistant, asked me to give you a message."

"Is it too late to give it to me now?"

"No, but... I just can't believe I forgot." Maylene's
memory was usually unfailing. Not today. Within moments of leaving Drake
Towers, she'd been consumed by the prospect of seeing Sam.

"Well. You've remembered now. So tell me."

"She was able to reach Golden Eight. He and James will be
here at six this evening."

"Golden Eight?"

"The feng shui man." When her clarification didn't seem
to make any more sense to Sam than Golden Eight's name, Maylene concluded,
"I guess you didn't even know the meeting was in the works. I assumed it
was something you and James had discussed."

"No."

Sam had no idea what she was talking about, and it was obvious he
should have. During the past few months, while building a cliff-top resort in
Bermuda, he had, by fax and phone, made the necessary preconstruction
preparations for the Jade Palace. In the process, during telephone
conversations with Tyler and James, he'd gleaned a few facts about construction
in Hong Kong.

The impending turnover of sovereignty to the People's Republic of
China had escalated rather than diminished Hong Kong's building boom. As a
provision of the Joint Declaration, the government in Beijing agreed to honor
all existing land leases for at least fifty years. It was prudent, however, to
have the buildings fully operational before 1997.

A six-day work week was
de rigeur
in Hong Kong, and
construction crews would work a seven-day week without complaint. The summer
months provided long hours of daylight. Every second was used—when it could be.
The problem was the weather. The summer monsoon brought drenching rains, and
construction might be suspended for days. Or weeks.

Sam knew these facts about building in Hong Kong before his
arrival, and in the past two days he'd learned that buildings under
construction, even those climbing seventy stories into the sky, were enmeshed
in skeins of bamboo and draped with bright green netting. The bamboo
scaffolding appeared delicate. And precarious. But he'd been assured it was
strong—and that the construction workers of Hong Kong had the balance of
trapeze artists.

Now he was going to learn something else about building here.