Love in the China Sea Page 2

  The lighted towers of the high-rise buildings crowding the bay rivaled the brightest stars that Anne had ever seen. The machine-gun blast of firecrackers exploding in celebration of some event raised a cheer from the people jamming the narrow streets. A soft summer breeze stirred her hair and caressed her cheek with gentle fingers.

  Anne slid into the back seat of his ebony Mercedes. Black and white—good and evil. It flashed though her mind as she touched the snowy leather upholstery.

  They rode in silence, physically separated but emotionally fused. A sense of peace nestled into the long-empty hollows of her loneliness. Anne didn’t dwell on the right or the wrong of what she was doing, knowing only that her desire outstripped her shame.

  When his driver stopped in front of her building she held her breath, wondering if the magical feelings burned in him as they did in her. He held the door open for her and she took his hand. The Mercedes purred away from the curb and they entered the glass-enclosed lobby.

  Anne felt nervously certain that everyone in the elevator was watching them as they whisked skyward. The doors parted noiselessly and she breathed a sigh of relief when they stepped out of the metal cage. He took the key from her shaking hands and inserted it into the lock.

  “After you.” His look shot fire through her.

  Anne had never bothered to decorate any of her apartments. They were nothing more to her than rented space—rooms where she ate and slept and worked. To arrange her personal belongings so they pleased her eye would be to stamp a temporary lodging as her home. She looked at the hard lines, the vacant corners and the bare surfaces, realizing for the first time just how punishingly empty her environment really was.

  “I have some French wine that’s never been opened. You can uncork it while I get the glasses.” She got the slender green bottle out of the refrigerator and took it to him, along with the unusual brass opener that she had found in a little village in France. “I’ll be right back.” She left him standing in the living room and hurried back into the kitchen, humming as she searched in the cabinets for the goblets that she had purchased the same day she bought the wine.

  “You have a wonderful view of the harbor.” The opened bottle sat on the table. He had pulled the drapes in her absence and was standing near the picture window. The dreary room pulsated with his presence.

  “I've never even noticed.” A lump formed in her throat. She had lived as a prisoner of her own limited vision far too long. Anne set the glasses on the table and joined him in front of the window. She wanted to share the precious vista, to see it through his eyes, to hear what he was thinking.

  “It’s beautiful,” she murmured. “Like heaven and earth melting into each other.” The pinpoint lights of the ferries, junks and steamers were brilliant decimal points against the black sheet of water. The alleys and streets below were gaudy ribbons tangling round and round the island.

  He slipped an arm around her shoulder. His free hand found hers and their fingers entwined. Forehead touched forehead in a gentle exchange of energy. Their shadows merged as they carried the wine bottle and the goblets into her bedroom.

  “Red is the color of passion.” His voice was husky, and his strong fingers followed the sensitive column of her spine as he unzipped her ruby dress. He unpinned her hair and threaded his fingers through the flaxen abundance that spilled over her shoulders. Pure instinct guided her as she traced his male lips with her honey smooth ones.

  “Is that what attracted you to me?” Her inhibitions were shed as quickly as her clothes. Her breath quickened while she watched him shrug out of his suit, his movements as fluid as the wine that he poured into their glasses.

  “Among other things.” The twin black torches of his eyes sparked the coiling demon of desire that spiraled through her body. In the nude, he was every erotic sculpture she had seen or imagined. Anne’s gray eyes held a pearly luster as she studied the solid length of his flesh.

  “What’s a Lotus woman?” She remembered that he had called her that at the party. Anne lifted her hair, conscious of his raven gaze sweeping slowly over the alabaster perfection of her curves.

  “A true Lotus woman has a waist as slender as a roll of silk.” His hands spanned hers with room to spare, and his mouth deepened in a smile. Her muscles constricted in sensual suspense as his thumbs caressed the ivory smoothness of her stomach.

  “She has delicate skin, perfumed like a newly burst lily.” His mouth found the throbbing pulse racing in her throat. Desire consumed her yielding softness as his warm, teasing lips nipped a light trail along her neck to her earlobes.

  “Her breasts are flawless.” He cupped a half-full wine goblet around one, then the other. Anne gasped as the icy bath aroused the sensitive, rosy peaks, and she cried out in soft pleasure when his tongue made lazy, lapping work of the burgundy droplets.

  “And her gait is as graceful as a swan’s.” He captured her willing hand and they walked together. His head descended and her lips answered his hungry demand, parting under his hard, probing kiss. He followed her down to the softness of the mattress, stretching his lean length beside her.

  “Is there such a thing as a Lotus man?” Anne’s hands wandered over the rippling cords of his muscles, the taut smoothness of his stomach. She explored with bold abandon as he had explored her, weaving a love dance of discovery over his hard nakedness. Her question was lost in a wild explosion of rapture as his mouth teased her upper lip, seducing her into silence.

  This was danger—the opium that could addict her, the fire that could scald her, the torture that could destroy her. The heat spread over her in swirling patterns, kindled by the tantalizing skill of his caresses and the delicious mastery of his kisses. His need, and the slow, deliberate exploration of his mouth, incited a riot of primitive emotions that left her mindless with wanting. She held him to her heart, her porcelain limbs clasping him.

  Intoxicated with passion and the pounding, drum-beat rhythm thrusting them along, Anne crossed the bridge between time and eternity, surrendering with a cry to an ecstasy she had never before known.

  Stunned by sensuality, Anne felt the aftershock tremors shuddering through him. She lay in his arms, basking in the quiet afterglow of mutual satisfaction.

  “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, Anne Hunter, UNA, Hong Kong.” His throaty whisper rustled the molten gold of her hair and his mouth nuzzled the sensitive spot between her neck and shoulder.

  “Likewise, I'm sure, Kai Shanpei.” She murmured a husky agreement against his bare flesh. Her lips curved in a contented smile as she traced an idle pattern on his chest with feather-light strokes of her fingernails.

  They lay entwined, touching, kissing and talking, until the first red streaks of dawn peeked over the dragon-humped hills of Kowloon across the bay. She closed her eyes when he rose to dress, afraid that words might diminish the exhilarating wonder of their lovemaking. He bent and kissed her cheeks, his silent farewell an eloquent one.

  Anne drifted to sleep, her face buried in his still-warm, fragrant pillow, her dreams as richly filled as her body.

  Chapter 2

  The rude jangle of the telephone sliced through Anne’s delightful dreams. She had called the office at nine to tell them not to expect her until later, then stumbled back to bed. It was the first time she had ever been late for work, but after last night’s unexpected outcome she needed time alone to resolve her conflicts.

  “Hello,” she managed when she located the receiver. Her stretch was a languorous affirmation of contentment.

  “Anne Hunter, please.” The efficient female voice was distinctly British.

  “This is she.” Anne hoped this wasn’t anything too complicated; she simply wasn’t up to it.

  “Miss Dawes here, Edward Payton’s secretary. Mr. Payton instructed me to tell you that he can see you at two this afternoon. Can you be here then?”

  Anne’s eyes flew open and she was instantly alert. “Two o’clock—fine, yes, thank you.”

 
As she replaced the receiver in its cradle Anne groaned. Dear old Edward Payton couldn’t have picked a worse day if he’d tried. Another nettling thought skittered across her mind. What, if anything, had Kai Shanpei said about her to Edward Payton when they met for brunch this morning? She glanced at the clock and was shocked to see that it was nearly noon. Well, she’d soon find out whether her reputation had been swept away with their breakfast crumbs.

  Two hours later Anne took a last peek in the mirror before she dashed out of her apartment. A brisk shower, followed by juice and coffee, had improved her outlook tremendously.

  “You’d better be worth it, Edward Payton.” She attempted a stern expression but smiled instead. A touch of makeup, gleaming blond hair swept into a smooth chignon and a new Italian knit dress gave her morale a much-needed boost.

  Anne hailed a taxi and relaxed while the driver maneuvered through the usual Hong Kong traffic snarls. At precisely two o'clock she entered the elevator of the striking, fifty-story Connaught Center.

  Edward Payton’s secretary was everything her formal telephone manner had predicted. Gray-bunned head held stiffly erect, she ushered Anne into Payton's office and informed her that he would be in shortly.

  Miss Dawes closed the door then, leaving Anne alone. The office was a decorator’s dream, and it was evident that cost had not been a factor when selecting the furnishings. Beside a sunny bay window sat a pair of plush white sofas. The low brass table between held an ornately carved ivory chess set. Embroidered antique Chinese tapestries adorned the walls, and an elegant teakwood desk angled away from another window that overlooked Victoria Harbor.

  Anne’s interest was piqued when she noticed that an abacus sat next to en electronic calculator on the desk. Hearing the musical notes of birds, she stepped through French doors onto a balcony. An elaborate wicker cage held a pair of tiny finches. The view from this vantage point was breathtaking, and she was rummaging in her briefcase for a camera when the office door opened and closed.

  “Good afternoon, Anne. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting.”

  That voice! Anne turned slowly, her stomach flip-flopping, then gasped her horror. She felt the color draining from her face as she stared in disbelief into the unblinking black eyes of Kai Shanpei.

  “I suppose you think this is very amusing,” she snapped when she finally recovered a portion of her poise. Her voice trembled with indignation and a burning sense of shame swept over her with a tidal wave of force.

  “On the contrary,” he said. “The last thing I want is to deliberately embarrass you. That’s why I suggested we meet today, in the privacy of my office.”

  “How considerate of you to spare me humiliation!” Anne tipped her chin defiantly all the while wishing that the floor would open up and swallow her.

  “When I introduced myself to you last night, I used my Chinese name.” Edward Payton—Kai Shanpei—gazed at her impassively across the carpeted expanse.

  “It’s a habit I have cultivated in order to protect myself from the more callous members of your profession.”

  “Yet you knew that I wanted to interview Edward Payton!” Her eyes deepened to a stormy gray as she confronted him with her outrage. “Why didn’t you tell me the truth?”

  “I fully intended to reveal my identity—over dinner, perhaps.” There was a note of genuine concern in his voice, but no apology. “Fortunately—unfortunately—” he shrugged noncommittally— “the opportunity never presented itself.”

  As furious at her own gullibility as she was with him, Anne didn’t realize what an entrancing portrait she made. The clear blue sky behind her highlighted the flame in her cheeks. Her flashing, quicksilver eyes were offset by the muted mauve of her clinging dress.

  “Please, Anne, sit down.” The gentle command was meant to be obeyed. “I would like you to listen to me.”

  Trying to maintain her self-discipline under a different kind of fire, she straightened her shoulders and held her head high as she crossed the oyster carpet. She was sorely tempted to walk right out the door. Instead, she perched on the edge of one of the embroidered, white-on-white sofas. At some silent cue Miss Dawes carried in a lacquered tray on which sat a delicate porcelain teapot and two small cups. He waited until the secretary was gone to pour their tea and resume the conversation.

  “Our evening together was the most pleasant one I have experienced in a very long time. And you must believe that it was never my intention to deceive you.”

  “What exactly did you intend, Mr. Edward Payton?” Anne’s sharp tone failed to ruffle his restraint.

  “You know from your research that I avoid the public eye as much as possible,” he continued smoothly. “There is a legitimate reason for my behavior. Without revealing names, certain members of the press have taken liberties—some extremely cruel ones—at the expense of my family and myself.”

  “And so you decided to extract your revenge on me!” Her curt accusation didn’t quite mask the bitter hurt welling up inside of her. “You must be very proud of how well your clever scheme worked.”

  “You're wrong.” His gaze made a thorough, unhurried study of her trouble-frozen features.

  Anne looked away toward the brightly hued fish swimming in the large aquarium set into the wall.

  Bewildered, incensed, anguished—she felt conflicting emotions churning in the pit of her stomach. She swallowed to ease the constricting band that tightened around her throat.

  “At the risk of sounding trite, you’re a special woman.” He spoke without haste. It was clear that his words were the result of careful choice. “Casual lovemaking is a waste of time and energy, and I am not a person to engage in idle activity. Warmth, intelligence—these are the qualities that attract me. When I first noticed you, there was a genuine vibrance in your body movements and the tone of your voice, subtle messages that told me you are a person worth knowing.”

  “Then why didn’t you tell me who you were?”

  Anne’s confusion was mirrored in her puzzled expression and the mutinous tremble of her lower lip.

  “If you had known me initially as Edward Payton, rather than as Kai Shanpei, our relationship would be founded on a business-only basis.” His intent gaze compelled her to pay close attention. “And I want more than that for us.”

  Anne gasped at the implication of his bold statement. The room seemed to be revolving around her.

  “Kai—I mean Edward.”

  “Let me finish.”

  She nodded and settled into the softness of the sofa. A sixth sense told her that this unique man did not often reveal himself and she wanted—no, needed—to know more about him.

  “After your first request for an interview I ordered an extensive investigation of your background.” His dark brows were knitted in a frown and Anne wondered if what he’d learned had displeased him. “Your professional ethics impressed me a great deal.” He cast an admiring look in her direction. “I'm honored that someone of your integrity has selected me to be the subject of an article.”

  “Does that mean . . .?” Anne couldn't quite believe what she was hearing.

  “Yes.” He leaned forward, his black eyes glowing with sincerity. “In my opinion you are the most thorough, unbiased reporter in the business.”

  Anne was speechless as a soaring joy flashed through her. She realized that the wild commotion she was hearing was the excited thudding of her own heart

  “One thing further.” A husky note thickened his voice. “This is not a stipulation of our business arrangement, of course, but I want to continue seeing you.”

  Doubt conflicted with the desire in her pewter eyes. “Kai—” The name came so naturally to her lips “May I call you that?” When he nodded she drew a breath for courage. “I'm flattered that you respect my professional standards. And I assure you that you won’t regret your decision when the article is published. But I think you should also realize that, despite what happened between us, my personal standards are also high.” It had to be said
and there was no easy way. “I know that you’re married.”

  “I have never made a secret of the fact,” he agreed complacency.

  “Surely, then, you’re not suggesting . . .” Anne shook her head slowly and her voice muffled to a whisper. “Last night I made a foolish mistake. I don’t know what possessed me—but all of a sudden I felt so lonely, so empty inside.” Her voice vibrated with the pain of remembrance. “I'm not sorry that we made love. But I'm not a homewrecker. We can’t go on—”

  “There is no home to wreck.” His voice reminded her of thunder in the distance. “Few people know it, but my wife, Barbara, has been incapacitated for a long time. We were on the verge of divorce several years ago when her heavy drinking led her into a deep psychosis from which she will never recover.”

  “I'm sorry.” Anne was shocked and words seemed so inadequate. But Kai wasn’t asking for her pity. She recognized his fiercely proud streak, and knew he was a man who dealt with life’s bitter blows without asking for quarter. “Is she in a hospital?”

  “No. Barbara lives at our country home north of Kowloon. There are nurses and servants to care for her and keep her comfortable.”

  Anne’s gaze shifted to the bubbling aquarium. There was no doubt in her mind that this enigmatic man was being totally candid, but it was almost too much to absorb at one time. She sipped her tea, uncertain of what she should or could say next.

  “I am sure you understand that what we have discussed is meant for your ears only,” he cautioned. This touch of vulnerability reinforced her appreciation of the trust he had placed in her.

  “You have my word,” she affirmed.

  “I won’t press you into an affair, Anne.” His dark eyes smoldered with the same restrained passion that marked his lovemaking as special. “Any situation that’s not comfortable for you is equally uncomfortable for me. I'm willing to wait for your decision because you’re a woman worth waiting for.”