Dragon and the Dove (9 page)

“I told him you would not disrobe under any
circumstances.”

She was grateful, but she sensed anything
she might say would be inadequate, or worse, embarrassing.

“And that last bit of conversation?” she
asked instead, even though she was afraid of what he might say. It
seemed nothing was beyond Chow Sheng.

His eyes held hers across the length of the
room, level and compellingly green, the irises still bright with
the adrenaline rush caused by the confrontation. “When he accepted
that you wouldn’t disrobe in my office like a Chinese slave girl,
he wanted to buy you for the night.”

She’d been right. No atrocity was beyond
Chow Sheng. His request was shocking and abhorrent. It was also
curious and archaic. But curious begat curiosity, and much to her
perplexity, she found herself asking the most awful of
questions.

“How much?”

“Two thousand Hong Kong.”

She did some quick figuring, and
embarrassment blossomed full-blown. “Isn’t that a little on the
cheap side?” She should have had more pride than to ask, but a part
of her hoped she’d made a mistake in her figuring.

A smile curved the corners of his mouth, and
the brightness of adrenaline in his eyes was replaced by a glint of
pure mischief.

“Skin like white jade can be a most
desirable feature in a woman,” he said. “But the lack of virginity
is an irreparable flaw, which, under any circumstances, lowers the
value of the goods in question.”

As the goods in question, Jessica showed
great face-saving restraint in her reply. “Of course.”

“I probably could have haggled the price
higher,” he said, with only a hint of wryness in his tone.

“No,” she said too hurriedly. “No, I think
you did the right thing.”

“Personally, I would have offered much, much
more for a night with you.”

“Thank you,” she said, somewhat mollified.
Then she realized her mistake. “I mean . . . uh no, thank you. Not
that I’m not . . . uh—” Oh, hell, she didn’t know what she
meant.

* * *

Riding home, she was still embarrassed, but
she knew she had only herself to blame. Her last question had been
foolish, unconsciously designed to humiliate herself—and it had
absolutely changed her relationship with Cooper Daniels.

Once a man has turned down the equivalent of
two hundred and fifty dollars for a woman and told her, it was damn
hard to keep everything on a professional level.

What a day, she thought, and thank goodness
they were finally heading home.

“Is this your exit coming up?” he asked,
directing her attention to the freeway sign up ahead.

“Yes,” she said, and spent the next quarter
hour giving him directions through suburbia. Shortly before dark,
they pulled up in front of a two-story house nearly overrun by a
lush forest of trees interspersed with shrubbery, flowering plants,
and ground cover.

And just about anything else a person could
name, Cooper thought. There didn’t seem to be a single species of
flora missing from the mélange. A dry creek bed wound its way
through gently sloping man-made hills, doing its best to anchor the
profusion of green and growing things. A beautifully carved bridge
straddled the creek on a brick path leading to the front door.

His first impression was of a jungle
experiment that had gone haywire or been overdosed with fertilizer
and California sunshine. As he looked longer, though, he began to
see the hints of a design underlying the arrangement. The plants
were also exceptionally well tended. Compared with most other
yards, hers looked like a botanical health club.

“My brother is a landscape architect,” she
said, “working on what he likes to call a modified chaos theory.
He’s trying to find the bifurcation points of competing indigenous
flora in an optimal but natural environment.”

“I think they all won,” Cooper said dryly,
hazarding a guess about what she was talking about.

“That’s what Paul is hoping will
happen.”

“Paul is your brother?” He turned to find
her watching him, something she did a lot, though mostly when she
thought he wouldn’t notice.

“My next to youngest,” she said, shifting
her gaze back to the yard.

Her awareness of him lingered in the
confines of the car, filling the space between them. He’d felt her
gaze upon him many times during their long day of travel and even
more so since the fiasco in his office. But then, as now, she was
always careful to look away quickly. He hoped it wasn’t because she
saw too much. Her appeal to him wasn’t something he could afford to
explore, but it was strong, intriguing, and had damn near gotten
him killed when he’d grabbed Chow Sheng. Rash didn’t begin to cover
what he’d done.

Reminding himself one more time to forget
having a personal relationship with her, he shrugged off the
recriminations for misplaced gallantry and opened the driver’s
door.

He knew they needed more than a week to
accomplish his goal, even with Baolian already starting to cry
uncle—the offer she’d sent via Chow proved that—and he was counting
on Jessica staying on after her contract was fulfilled. He needed
help, and he hadn’t overstated her attributes. He was paying
himself into bankruptcy to get those attributes.

He heard her door open as he pulled her
suitcase and carry-on out of the trunk, then he heard her sigh. The
soft sound drew his gaze, despite his better judgment and his
common sense.

She was balancing against the car door,
lifting each foot in turn to remove her high heels. Her auburn hair
had been finger-combed into disarray in the front, while the longer
strands in back fell forward across her shoulders, skimming the
delicate line of her jaw and emphasizing the fairness of her skin.
Her blouse was partially untucked from her black skirt, making a
white wing against the darker material. She was lovely, supple, and
female, and her mere presence touched him.

Watching her, he was glad he’d stopped Chow
from caressing her face, from feeling the skin he’d admired. She
might be more stranger than friend, but Cooper felt a connection
with her, one he was thankful he hadn’t allowed to be sullied.

A part of him wanted to put her far away
from the mess he was in. He’d requested a highly specialized
accountant from Elise Grubb, a person versed in finance and the Far
East, and she’d sent him someone he was thinking of more as a
woman, as a mother, a human being. It was damned distracting. He’d
wanted everything cut-and-dried, and all business. He didn’t want
any personal involvement. A robot who could think like a woman
would have suited him fine.

“This is his house, Paul’s,” she said,
looking over her shoulder at him and continuing her thoughts. “The
kids and I share it with him and another of our brothers.”

“Tony is your brother too?” he asked,
wondering what idiocy had made him assume differently about her
ménage
à
trois
. Jealousy, probably, and that was hardly
a comforting thought.

“The youngest,” she said. “I have two more
who are older than me.”

He didn’t know whether to be relieved or
resigned.

His life would have been easier if she’d
been seeing someone else, or two someone elses. He didn’t want her
to be available. His best bet was to get her suitcase to the door
and make a quick escape.

“Hey, Jessie!” A deep voice called to her
from somewhere in the jungle of the yard.

Cooper turned toward the sound, feeling a
distinct but strangely displaced sense of recognition. When a young
man broke through the foliage, Cooper froze. For an instant
sunlight and shadow played tricks with the man’s broad grin and the
impish gleam in his dark eyes. For an instant Cooper thought he saw
someone else.

“Jessie!” the young man hollered. He bounded
down a hill to scoop her up into his arms and swing her around,
making her squeal. A white daisy dangled precariously over one of
his ears, held in place by straight dark hair that added to the
painful illusion of familiarity.

“Tony Signorelli, you put me down.” Jessica
laughed and bopped her not-so-little brother on the shoulder with
her shoe. “And what’s this?” She reached for his flower. “Don’t
tell me you’re playing—”

“
Jessie
,” he warned, threatening to
drop her.

“Tarzan and Jane.” She squealed again as he
let her fall a foot before he caught her.

Cooper was damned surprised at the
playfulness of his Ms. MBA assistant, but it was the man who held
his unwavering attention. Tony Signorelli was all energy and
enthusiasm, and he was teasing his sister with a smile Cooper had
last seen in the South China Sea.

It was Jackson’s smile, an uncanny
duplication of an expression Cooper had coaxed out of childish
tantrums and endured through adolescent arrogance. He’d seen
Jackson’s smile quell dangerous men and seduce temperate women.
Once, the woman had been Cooper’s, or so he’d thought until Jackson
had shown up and lured her away with his easy charm.

The reunion at the edge of the jungle was
interrupted by the appearance of “Jane,” a petite young woman with
generous curves, short blond hair, and a warm smile. Her face had
an elfin quality despite her plumpness.

“Hi,” she said to Jessica, then lifted her
hand in a wave to include Cooper where he stood by the car.
“Hi.”

Tony released Jessica and stepped aside to
put his arm around the other woman in a gesture of obvious
affection. His smile and his resemblance to Jackson faded into a
more serious expression. “I’d like you to meet Alaina Fairchild.
Alaina, this is my sister, Jessie.”

“Nice to meet you,” Alaina said. “Tony has
told me a lot about you.”

“Nice meeting you too,” Jessica replied.
With a lift of her hand, she also included Cooper. “This is my
boss, Cooper Daniels. Mr. Daniels, my brother Tony Signorelli, and
his friend Alaina Fairchild.”

Cooper stepped forward and shook hands all
around.

“Alaina is an accounting senior at
Berkeley,” Tony explained. “So I’ve told her a lot about you, Jess.
Nice to meet you, Mr. Daniels.”

Cooper nodded, silently agreeing that it was
damn nice to meet everyone.

“Here, let me help you with those,” Tony
said, reaching for his sister’s luggage. “We’re all just sitting
down to supper. You ought to stay, Mr. Daniels. I’m sous chef at
Balay, and I cooked, so it’s not like you have to eat that stuff
Jessie comes up with, and Alaina made dessert.”

Cooper opened his mouth to decline the
invitation, even though he knew Balay was a good restaurant, but
before the words could get out of his mouth, another scream filled
the air.

“
Mom!
” A young girl, all legs and
flying dark hair, launched herself at his assistant, along with a
smaller but sturdier-looking bundle of boy. Cooper reached out a
hand to steady Jessica and found himself accidentally tangled up in
the melee of hugs. It unnerved the hell out of him.

“Jessie!” yet another voice hollered, and
Cooper started feeling like he’d brought home the Holy Grail. The
newcomer had to be Paul, of course. There wasn’t anyone else left.
At least he didn’t think so.

“Lime cheesecake with raspberry sauce. It’s
one of her specialties,” Tony was explaining to Jessica even as she
hugged her other brother.

“Mr. Daniels,” a small voice spoke to him
from about waist height.

Cooper looked down to see an equally small
hand extended. He shook it. He didn’t know what else to do.

“I’m Eric Langston.”

“Hello, Eric.”

“You’re not my father.”

“I know.” Cooper felt like he’d just landed
on an unexplored planet.

“I’m Christina,” another voice addressed
him.

Cooper turned and shook a slightly larger,
but infinitely more delicate hand. “Cooper Daniels,” he said.
Christina Langston looked like her mother, all wide
cinnamon-colored eyes and pale skin with a dusting of freckles
across her cheeks.

He turned hack to Jessica to say good-bye
and to ask her to do a little work for him over the weekend, but he
got waylaid by another introduction to yet another tall,
dark-haired man, her brother Paul, who shook his hand, but then
didn’t quite let it go. The dinner invitation was repeated a bit
more firmly. Paul said something about wanting to get to know his
sister’s boss better, especially since the boss was showing a
tendency to whisk her off to faraway places.

Cooper got the impression he was being sized
up and analyzed by a man about ten years his junior, and a gardener
no less. He would have laughed, if laughter had been at all
appropriate. The strength of the younger man’s handshake told him
it wasn’t. Cooper Daniels was invited to dinner.

He could have declined. He wasn’t a stranger
to power plays, winning through intimidation, or outright rudeness,
and he wasn’t averse to using whatever method met his needs. But
the Signorelli brothers were trying to be nice, and they were doing
it out of concern for their sister. Cooper could do worse than to
ease their worries about him. He knew he’d have to put on his best
face and work at being sociable. It would be an imposition on his
naturally antisocial—even surly—inclinations. But he could do it.
Prove to them he was a good guy, and maybe they would influence
their sister to stay on the job until the job was done.

Charm and affability. He hadn’t used either
in so long, he should have a ready supply.

“He’s not what I expected,” Paul said,
handing Jessica another double shot of espresso for her to mix with
hot milk. Everyone else was lingering over Alaina’s dessert on the
back patio, leaving the two of them in the kitchen with a second
round of coffee duty.

“Who?” she asked, though she knew perfectly
well who he meant. She couldn’t believe Cooper had allowed himself
to be coerced into a dinner-with-interrogation by her brother. She
knew for a fact that he had enough arrogance to have delivered a
flat refusal without a shred of guilt. She wished he had. Instead,
he’d turned on more charm than she’d thought he possessed.