Barbara Faith - Kiss of the dragon (9 page)

Bethany's body rose to his. Her hands tightened on his shoulders. She was lost in the arms that held her, in the lips that kissed her, in the body that possessed her, and that she too possessed.

When she cried his name he breathed in the sweetly desperate words of her fulfillment as his own body exploded, carrying him higher and higher as, with fevered words, he told her how he loved her.

Later, after they had showered together, Tiger gave her the package that he'd placed on the bed. Inside was a cheongsam, a Chinese dress of rose-pink satin. Peacocks in vivid shades of blue were intricately embroidered onto the material.

"It's beautiful," Bethany said in a breathless voice.

"Wear it tonight."

The satin was smooth against her fingers. She looked at Tiger. "Thank you," she said. "Thank you, darling."

The dress fitted as though it had been made especially for her, molding her breasts and her hips, coming just below her knees. She fastened the buttons high on the mandarin collar, stepped into her high-heeled
pumps, and turned around so that Tiger could look at her.

He took one step forward, but he didn't touch her. "You're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen," he said in a hushed voice. Then he watched as she brushed the golden hair back from her face and fastened pearl drop earrings in her ears.

Again Tiger felt the beating of his heart against his ribs. But this time it beat without passion; it beat with an intensity of love that shook him to the very depths of his soul.

But he did not speak of his love as he took Bethany's arm and led her down the curved marble stairs to the dining room. There he ordered swallow's nest soup, vegetables in black bean sauce, chinjew chicken, and moon cakes for dessert. And all the while his mind returned to Bethany—his love.

Chapter 9

T
he home of Madame Su Ching was in the European section of Tsingyun. When the pedicab stopped in front of it Tiger said, "Usually a home this size is divided into several apartments, but because of my mother's old family connections she has been allowed to keep her home the way it is."

Bethany looked at the tree-lined street, so different from the other parts of the city that she and Tiger had just driven through. There had been small homes, tar paper shacks, Buddahs of every size, green-roofed temples and five-tiered pagodas. Hundreds of people had crowded the busy streets where bicycle bells drowned out every human sound. But here it was different. This street, this house, exuded a quiet, old-world elegance.

"Come, we'll go in," Tiger said. "I'm sure my mother is waiting."

Nervously Bethany smoothed the skirt of the tailored blue dress she'd worn for traveling. Chang's words about Tiger's mother being a formidable woman came back to her. If Madame Su Ching hadn't approved of poor Lee Tung, how would she feel about her son bringing a strange American woman to her home?

The door was opened by a servant woman. Scarcely five feet tall, the woman looked up at Tiger through eyes crinkled with age.

"Ni hau?"
she said. "How are you, honorable sir?"

Tiger bowed. "I am well, Mai Ling," he said in Chinese. "This is Miss Bethany Adams. Is my mother at home?"

"She is waiting for you, sir." The old woman bowed as her eyes flicked over Bethany in curious appraisal.

The corridor Mai Ling led them into was clean, and cool, the beamed wooden floor polished to a high gleam. When she came to an ornately carved door she paused, then sliding the door open bowed and stood aside so they could enter.

Silk hangings decorated one wall. A five-panel screen, brilliantly designed in startling colors of red and gold, green and fuchsia, stood beside a cherry wood desk. Chinese chairs, carved with intertwining dragons, were placed around the room. Scarlet peonies in a lacquer bowl bloomed from an ebony table in-layed with mother-of-pearl. At the far end of the room, next to a stone fireplace, there was a red velvet sofa. As Bethany and Tiger crossed the floor a woman rose to greet them.

Su Ching's face seemed carved of pure, unblemished ivory. Her black hair was pulled back from her face into a chignon, and her dark eyes, fringed with long black lashes, framed by pencil-thin eyebrows, were almond shaped. She was quite tall and as slender as a girl. She wore a black cheongsam, black silk stockings and high-heeled black pumps. She was, Bethany thought, a strikingly handsome woman.

"Mother!" Tiger reached her in three long strides. He put his hands on her shoulders and kissed her cheek. "You're more beautiful than ever," he said in English as he held her away from him. "I have missed you."

"As I have missed you, Tiger." A pale hand caressed his face. "It has been much too long. I hope you have come for a long visit." Her glance slid to Bethany. "I see you have brought a friend." Her voice grew hushed. "How nice."

"Bethany." Tiger held out his hand, motioning her forward. "Mother, this is Bethany Adams. I'm sure you remember her father, Ross Adams, Father's friend."

A momentary frown marred the smooth forehead before Su Ching held out her hand. On one manicured finger there was the largest jade ring Bethany had ever seen. "Yes, of course I remember Ross," she said in a liitingly musical voice. "How do you do, Miss Adams. Did your father accompany you to China?"

"No, Madame Ching. My father died several months ago."

The delicate eyebrows rose. "Oh? I'm so sorry." She motioned to one of the carved chairs. "Please sit down."

Bethany sat quietly while Madame Ching talked to her son.

"I was surprised to receive your telegram," Su Ching said to Tiger. "I could not imagine whom you were bringing with you." Her gaze flicked to Bethany. "I hope you'll find the room I have prepared for you comfortable, Miss Adams."

"I'm sure I will. I hope I'm not putting you out."

"Of course not." Su Ching looked up as the door opened and Mai Ling entered, followed by a manservant carrying a silver tray. "I thought you might enjoy a cup of tea after your journey, Miss Adams." Before Bethany could answer Su Ching turned to Tiger. "You flew to Canton?" she asked.

"No, mother, we came by boat."

"By boat? But that must have taken days. Why in the world would you do that?"

"I
hadn't ever taken The Dragon on a real cruise. This seemed like a good opportunity. We docked on the Po On Peninsula. Chang stayed with the boat."

"And Lee Tung?"

Tiger hesitated. "Lee remained behind on one of the islands we put in to."

"I see." Su Ching's face looked puzzled as she poured the green tea and handed a cup to Bethany. "How long can you stay in Tsingyun, Tiger?"

"I'm going to leave in a few days, Mother. But if it is all right with you, Bethany will stay here."

Again the eyebrows rose. Carefully Su Ching put her teacup back on the saucer. "Are you here on business then?"

"Yes, Mother, but perhaps we can discuss it later."

She appraised him with her black almond eyes and seemed about to speak. Then changing her mind she took another sip of her tea. When she had finished it she turned to Bethany, and ringing a small brass bell on the ebony table next to her chair said, "I'm sure you are tired, Miss Adams. I will have Mai Ling show you to your room."

Bethany looked at Tiger, then away. "Thank you," she said, knowing she'd been dismissed. "Yes, I am tired."

He stood up as Mai Ling came into the room. Taking Bethany's hand he said, "I will see you later."

"We dress for dinner, Miss Adams." Su Ching's voice was cool. "And we eat promptly at seven-thirty."

Bethany's lips tightened. Barely resisting the impulse to bow, she forced a smile to her lips, and with a brief nod followed the elderly servant out to the corridor.

They climbed a curving staircase. Silently they went down a long hall, past closed doors. When at last the old woman opened one of the doors, she motioned Bethany to enter, said something in Chinese, and bowed herself out.

A large bed dominated the room. It was covered by a heavy red and gold brocade spread that matched the draperies hanging from the floor to ceiling windows. There was a lacquer bedside table, a writing desk, a chair. At one end of the room there was a cherry wood armoire and when Bethany opened it she saw that her dresses had been hung and her other clothes and shoes neatly arranged on the shelves.

With a sigh she went to the windows and pulling back the curtains looked down on the courtyard below. It was a small yard, made lovely by blooming apricot trees and a circle of pink and red tulips. When Bethany opened the window the scent of apricot blossoms drifted up to her. Her hand tightened on the curtain. She didn't know what she'd expected Tiger's mother to be like, but she hadn't expected the cold and haughty woman who had greeted her. She wouldn't stay here; when Tiger left she would leave with him.

Resolutely Bethany turned away from the window. After she had undressed and bathed in the claw-footed tub in the adjoining bathroom, Bethany lay down to think. For a while, she'd been able to believe that she and Tiger were only a man and woman who had fallen in love with each other. Now, here in his mother's house, Bethany was reminded that they were from two disparate worlds. He was East, she was West. It was obvious that his mother would never accept her.

At seven o'clock
Bethany rose and went to the ar
moire. She looked at the lovely cheongsam that Tiger had given her and knew that it would be more than acceptable. But with a frown she put it back in the closet. It seemed to her that it was necessary to make a statement. She was not Chinese, she was an American, and tonight she would look like an American.

At twenty-five after seven, dressed in a lemon-yellow sheath, and high-heeled sandals Bethany descended the stairway. She paused with her hand on the carved newel post, gazing through the open doors to her right into the dining room. From the glow of candelabra she saw that the room was empty. For a moment she hesitated, uncertain. Then from above Tiger
said, "There you are. I didn't know where Mother had put you so I knocked at several doors." He quickly came down the stairs, dressed in dark trousers, a white silk shirt, and a brocade dinner jacket. His eyes took in the blond hair fluffed about her face, and taking her hand he brought it to his lips. "You're beautiful, Bethany."

Bethany touched his face. She started to speak, then stopped abruptly.

Madame Su Ching stood below looking up at them. Her floor-length cheongsam was Chinese red, and matching red butterfly sticks jutted from her chignon. Her face was impassive. Seconds ticked by before she spoke. "Shall we go in to dinner?"

At dinner Tiger sat on Su Ching's right, Bethany on her left. A white linen cloth covered the table that was set with fine china and chopsticks.

"Would you prefer a fork?" Su Ching inquired as Bethany fingered the sticks.

"No, thank you." Bethany had had very little experience with chopsticks, but she was determined to manage.

The meal began with dim sum, hors d'oeuvres. That was followed by shark's fin soup, for which a spoon was supplied, a vegetable dish of mushrooms, gingko nuts, spring onions and bean sprouts, and finally roast duck. The duck was the most difficult to manage, but when Tiger asked if she'd like a fork she politely declined a second time.

He smiled at her as he served spiced rice wine and tried to include her in what little conversation there was. When the dishes had been cleared and a bowl of fruit had been placed on the table, Su Ching asked
Bethany about her mother and when Bethany told her that her mother was ill and in a convalescent home, Su Ching said, in a disapproving voice, "I am surprised that you would leave her with strangers."

"I had no choice." Bethany took a sip of the wine. "My father made me promise that I would come to Hong Kong after he died. He wanted me to see Mr. Malone... your husband."

Su Ching regarded Bethany over the rim of her wineglass. "I find that odd," she said. "My husband and your father rarely corresponded. They hadn't seen each other for years."

"I know." Bethany looked across the table at Tiger. "He... my father asked me to bring a letter to your husband."

"It must have been a very important letter to make you leave your mother when she was ill." Su Ching's almond eyes were cold.

"Bethany's father wrote to Dad about the golden dragon," Tiger said. "He thought it was time to go and get it."

Two bright spots of color appeared in the ivory cheeks. "And you, my son, do you think the time has come to get it?"

"Yes, Mother, I do."

Su Ching looked at Bethany, then at Tiger. "So this... this woman has persuaded you to come to China for the golden dragon." Her voice was angry as she faced Bethany. "Can you not leave things alone? The golden dragon has been hidden for forty years. Why must you disturb it now? Don't you know how dangerous it might be for my son to attempt to take it out of China? Men have killed each other over it for
hundreds of years? If anyone knew that the two of you had come to China to find it—"

"There are people who already know," Tiger said.

"What do you mean?"

"Bethany and I were attacked on the Star Ferry dock a few nights after she arrived. At first I thought the two men were only after her purse, but when we discovered her room had been ransacked I knew it had to be more than that." His voice hardened imperceptibly. "And let me make it clear, Mother, Bethany didn't persuade me to come to China. It was my decision."

"Was it?" Su Ching's gaze shifted to Bethany. "Tiger has been content to leave the golden dragon where it is. If you had not come
,
he—"

"Mother!" Tiger put a restraining hand on her arm. "That's enough! You know that father wanted me to have the dragon some day. He would have taken it himself if you hadn't stopped him. It's time to take it out of its hiding place."

"No!" Madame Ching rose from her chair. "The dragon belongs to China, not to some avaricious American. I will not permit it. I will not—"

"That's enough!" Tiger's voice was sharp as Bethany pushed back her chair and ran from the room. She started toward the stairs, then saw Mai Ling, her wrinkled face startled, blocking the staircase just in front of her. Without conscious thought Bethany ran past the stairs, down a corridor, and seeing a door opening into the darkness plunged through it. Then she smelled the scent of apricot blossoms and knew that she was in the courtyard.

She ran to one of the trees and leaned against it, her hands covering her eyes. She'd been a fool to come here with Tiger, a fool to think that his mother would accept her. She didn't need the golden dragon, she didn't want it. She'd go home. She'd sell the house so that she could take care of her mother. She—

A sudden noise came from behind her. Bethany turned and looked up just as a figure dropped from the old stone wall to the ground. Before Bethany could move a second figure appeared at the top of the wall. She opened her mouth to scream but the scream froze in her throat as the first man sprinted forward. Before she could cry out he grabbed her shoulders. Dear God! It was the same man! The man on the dock in Hong Kong! The man who had grabbed her ankle the night that Chang was wounded!