Dragon and the Dove (8 page)

She said her good-byes and picked up her
carry-on bag, which he transferred to the cart.

“Sorry,” she apologized around another yawn.
“But it’s the deal I’ve got with them. I always call from the
airport to give them a chance to whip the house into shape. Paul
hates for me to think he can’t handle the kids when I’m gone.”

Paul?
Cooper didn’t remember
anybody named Paul in her file.

“And Tony hates being taken by surprise,”
she continued. “He’s always got something going on he’d rather I
didn’t know about.”

And Tony
. Cooper gave her a sharp
glance. Even if she was seeing one man, she couldn’t possibly be
seeing two, living with two. The thought of one man was aggravating
enough. He couldn’t have misjudged—

He drew his thoughts to a sudden halt,
realizing he had already misjudged just about everything else about
her. He’d seen some pretty loose relationships in San Francisco,
situations that would have easily accommodated a simple
ménage à trois
.
One more mistaken opinion about Jessica Langston shouldn’t surprise
him.

It did, though. It surprised the hell out of
him. He’d have bet money on her playing for keeps in the love
department. Privately, he admitted that was part of her appeal to
him. He liked to think there was someone left in the world a person
could count on when things got tough. And things always got
tough.

“I’d like to stop by the office for a
minute,” he said. “Will that be okay with you?” They had a job to
do, he reminded himself. Nothing could get in the way of bringing
Baolian down, least of all his hormonal response to the
auburn-haired beauty who was his assistant.

“Sure,” she said, sounding like she was past
the point of caring about details.

“Fine.”

More preoccupied with his new knowledge of
her than he would have admitted to anyone, he led the way out to
his car. Jessica Langston’s living arrangements and her lovers
weren’t his business. Her employment was his business, and that
should be uppermost in his mind. He needed her skills and her
instincts, not her personal attention.

But he had liked having her personal
attention all day. He’d liked sitting next to her, listening to her
soft voice talking about his goals and questioning his assets. Her
fragrance had eased him, her nearness had soothed him. Maybe he’d
liked it all too much.

Jessica wasn’t sure what she’d done to
sidetrack him, but Cooper hardly spoke a word on their way to his
car. His sudden quietness was a welcome respite from the
information overload she’d been getting. Once they were under way,
she stretched out in the warm and comfortable luxury sedan and let
the subdued hum of the engine and the quietly playing classical
music lull her into a state of relaxation.

“For the remainder of your stay at Daniels,
Ltd., you’ll be working under a strict operating procedure,” he
said from out of nowhere, startling her back into awareness.

She’d really thought they were done for the
night. Sighing, she turned her head so she could see him.
“Operating procedure?” she repeated.

“Any requests for information will be done
in the company’s name. You’ve been sitting at the receptionist’s
desk for a couple of weeks. There’s no reason for anybody to know
you are anything except my receptionist.”

She came more fully awake, her instincts
telling her this was not an idle fancy of his.

“Why?” she asked.

“Precautionary measure.”

For someone who had talked her ear off
across most of the Atlantic and North America, he’d done an amazing
regression into taciturnity.

“Precaution against what?”

He briefly met her gaze, his eyes assessing
her with cool briskness. “Involvement,” he finally said, returning
his attention to the road. “Since you’re not sticking around for
very long, there’s no reason for anyone to know you’re involved. If
everything turns out the way we want, great. You can put Daniels,
Ltd. on your résumé and go straight to the top of another
organization.”

“And if things go bad?”

“Then you’re well out of it.” He ran his
hand through his hair and shot her another glance. “You can tell
people as much or as little as you like. I’ll back you up.”

He had a generous nature, she thought, which
shouldn’t have surprised her—considering the salary he was
paying.

Given his show of support, she felt she
should be more up-front with him. “I have to tell you, Mr. Daniels,
that I don’t think too much is going to happen in one week.” She
tilted her head in his direction to gauge his reaction. There was
none—except for a slight narrowing of his eyes. She pushed ahead.
“The kind of investigation you want can take months. The kind of
information I’ll need can be very hard to track down. Then there’s
the time involved in determining the best course of action once we
have the information.”

She didn’t consider her statements a
concession of defeat before the game had even gotten started. She
had more confidence in herself than that. But there were realities
they both needed to take into consideration, and she hoped he was
considering them.

“Call me Cooper,” was all he said, checking
the traffic before changing lanes to pass a car, giving a good
impression of a man who hadn’t heard a word she’d said.

Oh-kay
, she thought,
drawing the word out in her mind. If he didn’t want to take her
seriously, that was fine with her. But now they’d both been warned.
She just hoped he realized it.

Cooper took her up to the office in the
private elevator. It was a throwback, he explained, to when the
building had been owned by one of the old San Francisco shipping
magnates who had gone head-to-head with the Damn Line and lost.
Given the ancient workings and grumbling and groanings of the
contraption, Jessica could only wonder in which century the battle
had been waged.

The doors opened with a grinding noise,
making each inch seem hard won. She waited, foot tiredly tapping,
her chin down and her eyes lowered. When freedom was a few grinding
seconds away, Cooper pulled her back from the door and stepped in
front of her.

The rudeness of the action left her
speechless. She hadn’t burned her bras. She was entitled to a
little consideration, and she wanted out of his ancient cage of an
elevator.

“Excuse me,” she said with soft sarcasm.

He had the audacity to flash her a grin over
his shoulder. “We’ve got company.”

She looked past him and realized he’d spoken
with typical understatement. A number of Oriental men were crowded
into his office, sitting around his table, standing against his
walls, and walking all over his dragon. Most of them were dressed
like businessmen in suits and ties, but one was not. He was dressed
like a Mandarin
overlord, complete with
arrogant demeanor and haughty composure. It took her less than a
minute to realize the businessmen were actually the overlord’s
bodyguards.

“Remember, I’m paying you to think on your
feet,” Cooper said before stepping out of the elevator, his brief
smile replaced by a more somber expression.

Those were the last words she understood for
quite a while. Cooper greeted the silk-clad gentleman in a Chinese
dialect and with great deference, an attitude she would have
thought too alien to his nature for him to pull off convincingly.
He proved otherwise with his low bow and his silent acceptance of
the invasion of his domain.

During the introductions, she did manage to
determine that the man’s name was Chow Sheng. After a short bow
that she performed without conscious intent, she settled into one
of the chairs flanking the large, low table in the middle of
Cooper’s office.

She sat quietly, absorbing the nuances of
the conversation if not its actual meaning, not quite believing
she’d bowed to the imperious old goat.

With a clap of Chow Sheng’s hands, tea was
served by two of the bodyguards. She could tell there was a
discussion as to whether or not she should be included. At Cooper’s
indication that she should be served, a cup was offered with only a
modicum of hesitation, just enough to put her in her place as a
woman of little or no rank. She was appropriately offended, but
didn’t let her feelings show.

The amenities, if they could be called that,
lasted twenty minutes by Jessica’s watch, which she checked
discreetly but often. Then, with no more warning than a shift of
inflection in Chow Sheng’s voice, the atmosphere became charged
with tension.

Cooper stiffened beside her, and every
bodyguard in the place responded with a not-so-subtle shift in his
stance. All the awareness in the room was focused on the three
people sitting around the table. The tension was palpable, hostile,
and Jessica suddenly understood that she and Cooper were not at a
tea party given by friends.

Under the table, she felt his foot nudge
hers. She picked up her teacup and took a swallow, instinctively
understanding she was not supposed to react to the new dynamics.
She also understood the other implications of his action: He was
aware of her; he was considering her presence and her safety. Or at
least that’s what she thought before he spoke, this time in
English.

“I was not aware, Chow Sheng, of your new
status as a lackey dog for the dragon whore.”

Jessica choked despite her best efforts not
to. They were fighting words if she’d ever heard them, and he was
outnumbered. She quickly decided her wisest game plan would be to
play dumb, defenseless, and inculpable, good guy to his bad
guy.

“Fang Baolian’s offer is most generous,”
Chow Sheng replied in perfect, unruffled English, pushing himself
out of the deep comfort of the chair. “Five hundred thousand Hong
Kong dollars to forget the unpleasantness between your house and
hers.”

“Tell her I’ll see her in hell.”

The Oriental man smiled blandly. “A certain
rashness is required for your business, but of the two brothers, I
always thought you were the more practical. Baolian’s offer will be
available for one week. Send someone if you change your mind.” He
walked around the table toward Jessica’s end, his smile directed at
Cooper as he said something else in Chinese.

Cooper responded in the same language.

Chow stopped next to Jessica’s chair and
spoke again, a soft questioning in his voice, his hand moving
gracefully to her shoulder.

In an instant Cooper was on his feet with
the old man’s wrist manacled in his fist. Total mayhem would have
broken out if Chow hadn’t immediately raised his other hand to
quiet the bodyguards.

Chow spoke again in Chinese. Cooper replied
in the same language, his voice tight and threatening. When the
older man acknowledged what had been said—by the barest gesture of
his free hand—Cooper released him.

Studiously ignoring her presence, Chow
clapped his hands twice, and he and his entourage exited through
the reception area, leaving empty teacups and a surfeit of tension
in their wake.

Jessica slowly rose to her feet and took a
deep breath. She didn’t know which was more disturbing: that Cooper
had risen to her defense, or that she’d needed defending in the
first place. From what, she wasn’t sure, but she hadn’t liked Chow
Sheng touching her.

She should have listened to George, she
thought, her heart continuing to pound too rapidly for comfort.
Smart money would have her typing out her resignation before she
left that night, it wasn’t too late to jump ship. Now that she’d
seen exactly what she’d gotten herself into, she should get out.
Piece of cake.

She reached for her tea and took a hesitant
sip, her hand shaking. It was obvious what she had to do . . . walk
away. It was so simple.

“Damn,” she whispered to herself, rattling
the teacup against the saucer as she set it down. Nothing was
simple. She wasn’t walking away or jumping anything, and she knew
it.

She had agreed to fulfill her contract, and
she wasn’t going to be frightened off by a little “big boy” pushing
and shoving. With four brothers, she’d had years of hands-on
training in dealing with macho posturing.

Of course, what had looked like an
intimidating bluff on the part of the bodyguards had looked
remarkably like a sincere promise of damage from Cooper Daniels.
His willingness to protect her struck a responsive chord deep in
her psyche, one she was sure she should have outgrown. It should
have galled her to think she needed a man’s protection.

But in a man’s world, playing a man’s game,
having a man ready and able to protect her virtue didn’t seem like
a bad thing at all, even if it was macho posturing.

Not when the man was Cooper Daniels.

“What did Mr. Chow say that got us into so
much trouble?” she asked when Cooper returned from locking the
doors behind Chow and his gang. If she was in the game, and she
was, then she needed to know all the facts.

He looked at her before walking behind his
desk. At first she thought he wasn’t going to answer her question,
but then he spoke.

“The most honorable Mr. Chow,” he said,
seemingly disinterested as he checked his fax machine, “thought you
looked too old to be a virgin, but noticed with great pleasure that
your skin was beautiful, like white jade.” He read the fax message,
then turned and flipped a switch on his computer. The actions were
automatic, casual, but the tension in the room didn’t drop by so
much as a degree.

“And?” Shocked as she was by the revelation,
she knew there was more.

“He wondered if you would disrobe. If he
dismissed his bodyguards, of course.” His fingers moved over the
keyboard, punching in commands.

“Disrobe?” Her voice was a hoarse croak of
disbelief.

The typing stopped, and she could see the
working of the finer muscles in his jaw. A perfectly silent moment
passed before he shifted his gaze up to meet hers.