He bent his head over her and laughed until his sides ached. She put her arms around him tightly. “There are so many ways to make love. I’d really like to touch you and talk to you. Would you mind if that’s all we do this morning?”
Kash drew his head up quickly and looked at her. “Of course not. Do you seriously think I’m upset? I’m having the time of my life.”
“I don’t know what to think, right now. I’m hopeful, but worried. I don’t want to push you too hard or say the wrong thing. I guess I’m afraid you’ll tell me that what happened last night was wrong, and you don’t want to be this involved with me.”
“No. I can’t predict that will happen to you and me after this situation with the Vatan family is resolved, but I’ll tell you this. You’ll leave me. I won’t leave you.”
“Kash!” Obviously bewildered and upset, she took his face between her hands and studied him as if she could draw his secrets out with her willpower.
“Don’t,” he ordered softly, shaking his head.
“Your lack of faith is the only thing that would ever drive me away,” she told him in a low, anguished voice. “Until you can tell me why you and I could never have a life together, I won’t feel that you trust me.”
“Becca, I trust you in a way I’ve never trusted anyone else. Believe me.”
“We’re having a little of a communication problem,” she told him, frowning gently. “Everything’s changed between us since yesterday.” She added in a pensive tone, “I suspect you regret that a little.”
Kash felt a flood of sadness and doubt, not about his feelings for her, but about the future. He was a loner even where religion was concerned, but now he thought gratefully about the Buddhist belief in living life one moment at a time. They sought their paradise, their nirvana, by blocking out the past and future. He pulled Rebecca closer to him and said as lightly as he could, “I regret only one thing.”
“What?”
“That you can’t hear well out of this ear.” He put his head beside hers and whispered, I love you, I love you forever.
“Stop. Use the other side, I want to hear,” she demanded, sinking her hands into his hair. She lifted his head and scowled at him mildly. “What did you say?”
“Something shocking. I could hardly put it into words.”
“Then show me.”
Kash took her deeper into his arms. “That should be easy.”
Madame Piathip stayed in the city for several days, and without her suspicious scrutiny, Rebecca could forget about the Vatan family and enjoy being with Kash. Making love with him opened up a universe of sensations and emotions she’d never felt before, and every day was full of new adventures, new intimacies.
But one dawn she woke up alone in his stately bedroom. Her mind still hummed with delicious memories of the night before. He’d carried her to bed after a flirtatious game of chess. She’d never known that the game could be so sexy.
Looking around curiously, Rebecca climbed out of his bed, peered into the bath, called his name plaintively, then noticed a note on a small table by the door.
If you wake up before I return, I’m at the small shrine near the pond. Please come. Kash.
She dressed in a brightly embroidered green tunic and flowing white silk pants, pulled her hair back with a black ribbon, put sturdy black slippers on her feet, and hurried outside. The light was rosy and golden. Dew hung on the thick forest beyond the estate’s stone walls and stained the walls with dark patterns. The air smelled of flowers and damp grass. Inhaling deeply, she went down the path to the pond at a quick, swinging walk.
He was seated on the far side of the garden’s pond, in front of a serene female statue made of white stone. The goddess held both a lotus blossom and ajar. The jar was turned downward, as if pouring. Rebecca came to a stop several yards behind Kash, catching her breath at the handsome and tranquil sight he made, his perfect stillness. His arms rested lightly on his knees, and his head was bowed.
His torso was covered in a simple white shirt of cotton that clung to the sculpted contours of his broad shoulders and strong back. Loose black trousers emphasized his long, lean legs. He was barefoot. A wisp of morning breeze lifted strands of his black hair. At the base of the shrine was a stone cup, and in it he’d placed several sticks of incense. The breeze wafted their faint gray smoke upward.
Poignant understanding swelled in her chest. He was a complex combination of cultures and attitudes. Physically large and powerful—very Western in that way—but filled with a vulnerable grace that struck her as humble, reverent, and very Eastern.
Not wanting to break the spell, she kept quiet and started to sit down, but her foot snapped a twig on the grass. Kash raised his head and turned to look at her. His expression was so troubled that she bit back a sound of distress. His serenity had been a facade. As she went to him, he made a painful-looking effort to appear casual. “Good morning,” he said, reaching up a hand.
“Good morning,” she answered in awkward Vietnamese.
“You remembered our little vocabulary lesson last night.”
“You’ve taught me a lot over the past few days.” She took his hand and sat down beside him. “You’re a good teacher.”
“You’re an inspiring student.”
“For a barbarian, as Madame Piathip might say. ” He put his arm around her, but there was something distant and stiff about his posture. Rebecca stroked a fingertip along the shadow under one of his eyes. “You didn’t sleep very well.”
He smiled. “Only because I kept waking up to nuzzle the naked barbarian woman who kept pressing herself against me. But why should last night be any different from the others?”
“Because you usually sleep soundly in between nuzzlings. I know, because sometimes I watch you.”
“Oh? Is that your hobby?”
“Yep. I whisper commands into your ears. You know, like subliminal messages.”
“What commands?”
“It’s a secret. But you’re responding nicely, so it must work. Except I’ll have to fix this little problem of yours. No more slipping out of bed without waking me up.”
“I had a promise to keep.” He nodded toward the incense and the Buddhist statue. “In Vietnam they call her Quan-Am. She represents compassion. Her jar pours the water of compassion on believers. She helps a person find the compassion inside himself. I’m not a Buddhist, but I appreciate the idea.”
Rebecca nodded, watching him closely. He tried to hide his mysterious grief, but she felt it. “Did you come here to find compassion for yourself, or for someone else?”
“Someone else. Someone who died twenty-six years ago today.”
“Please tell me. At least tell me as much as you’re comfortable sharing.”
He searched her eyes with a long, intense gaze. She could see the conflict inside him, and it tore at her. “Are you talking about your mother?” she asked softly.
He shut his eyes for a moment, and she thought he wasn’t going to answer. But when he opened them, they were calm. “Yes.”
“Please. Tell me anything you can about her. If there are ugly memories you don’t want to talk about, that’s fine. Just tell me the good things.”
He exhaled wearily. “She did her best with what she was given. Her father was an Egyptian diplomat who had business ties in Vietnam back when the French controlled the country. Her mother was a mandarin’s daughter. Because she was mixed-blood and illegitimate, she had very little chance of marrying well or finding a good job.”
“You mean she was a social outcast, like the Amerasian children our soldiers left behind?”
“Yes. Her mother’s family took care of her, but they were killed during the war with the French, back in the fifties. She was just a girl when she was orphaned. After that, she did the best she could.”
Rebecca reached across his lap and took his clenched hand. She wound her fingers through his. “How did she manage?”
Kash’s hard black gaze bored into her. “I
remember her singing to me, and teaching me to play games, and protecting me, because I was even more of an outcast than she was.”
Rebecca looked up at him steadily. He was evading the question. In a matter-of-fact tone she said, “Because your father was American?”
“Yes. He was an army intelligence officer. Hell, for all I know, he might have worked for the CIA. He was one of the advisers who came to Vietnam about 1960. He was killed a few years later. That’s all I learned about him.”
“Tell me about your childhood. You said to me once that you spent it fighting and stealing, to survive.”
“That’s right. My mother died when I was about five. Audubon discovered me a few years later. He was a soldier, one of those idealistic college boys who’d come to Vietnam to save the world. He couldn’t save the world, but he saved me.”
Abruptly Kash dropped his arm from around her, brought her hand to his mouth for a hard kiss, then announced, “End of story. I came to the shrine today to burn incense on the anniversary of my mother’s death. The Vietnamese place a lot of importance on honoring ancestors. I perform this ceremony every year to remember the small part of me that’s Vietnamese. And for my mother.”
Tell me the rest. You have to tell me, she implored silently. He looked down at her as if reading her mind. “That’s all, Becca.”
“Please talk to me.”
“I’ve told you all that’s important about that part of my life.”
“Except what makes you so different from every other man I’ve known. Except what makes it impossible for you to believe I love you.”
He inhaled sharply and raised a hand. “Don’t ever say that to me again. I certainly won’t say it to you.”
“I thought we’d gotten beyond that barrier in the past few days.”
“No, we’ve danced close to it, that’s all.”
“You said I’d leave you. You didn’t mention that I’d leave you only because you’d force me to.”
“Listen to me. ” He swiveled to face her and took her by both shoulders in a rough grip. “My work keeps me on the move most of the time. This month I’m in Thailand. Next month I may be in Europe. The month after that I could be in South America. I have a home near my father’s in Virginia, but I’m hardly ever there. What are you going to do—sit in Iowa and wait for me to breeze by for an occasional visit?”
“You’re putting up smoke screens.”
“I’m never going to come home from work each day and sit in a lounge chair watching my wife make needlepoint finger towels for the church bazaar while the kids do their homework and the dog snores. I wouldn’t know how to fit in.”
“I wouldn’t either, since I don’t do needlepoint, have no kids and no dog, snoring or otherwise. I thought the whole point of making a life with someone was to start from the ground up, then work out something special and unique. If you were a cartoonist, I’d tell you that your characters are stick people, and you’ve got no imagination. You’re trying to draw the punch line before you’ve sketched the first panel.”
“I’m painting the picture the only way I can see it.”
“Did I ask you to marry me?” she asked angrily, getting to her knees. “Did I ask you to trade in any part of your life for part of mine? No. So why are you forcing this discussion? I’m not going to beat my chest and tear out my hair when you leave me. Oh, yes, you’ll leave me, because you’ll never admit that you hate being alone.”
She grabbed a fresh stick of incense, held it against the burning ones, and when it began to smoke, laid it at the shrine’s base. Looking up into Quan-Am’s smiling face, Rebecca held out her hands in supplication. “Please, give Kash some compassion for himself.”
“Stop it,” Kash ordered.
“And please let him understand that I didn’t fall in love with him to change what he is, or what he comes from.”
“I said stop,” he repeated, getting up and pulling her with him. Half crying now, she twisted in his harsh embrace and looked up at him bitterly. “What happened to you when you were a child? You have to trust me enough to tell me. Please, Kash. Please.”
“Mr. Kash, Mr. Kash,” a nervous male voice called from the direction of the house. The person was hidden by trees and shrubs along the winding path. “Where are you? Come quick!”
He stepped back and released her. “I have to go.”
“You have to hide.”
“Call it hiding, if you want to.”
“I’ll be in my room,” she told him wearily. “I shouldn’t have come here this morning. Your ceremony shouldn’t have been ruined with a pointless argument.”
“The ceremony’s over. It’s time to get back to real life. You’re my only concern. I’ve got to get this Vatan mess settled and get you out of here.”
And out of your life, she thought. His words stung so much that she didn’t ask him to elaborate. Again the servant’s voice cut through the morning. “Please, Mr. Kash, come quick! And bring Miss Brown with you! It’s an emergency!”
Frowning, Kash took her hand. They ran back to the house. A manservant was waiting at the top of the path, wringing his hands. He made a jerky wai in greeting. “The police are here, sir!”
“They want to see me?”
“They want to see Miss Brown! They say Madame Piathip sent them!”
Rebecca felt Kash’s hand tighten possessively on her own. He frowned in bewilderment. “Did Madame return from Bangkok last night?”
“No, she’s still at her house in the city.”
Kash turned toward Rebecca. She looked up at him with strangled anxiety. “What does she intend to do—have me deported?”
“Whatever it is, don’t worry. The problem can be fixed with talk or money.”
But the stern police captain who waited for them with several of his officers in the house’s front hall didn’t look interested in negotiating. “Miss Brown, you’re accused of stealing jewelry,” he said in crisp, formal English. “You’ll have to come with us.”
Rebecca shook her head numbly. “Jewelry? What jewelry?” Kash stepped between her and the police officer, his face fierce with restraint, his body as taut as a shield. “Madame has made a mistake. Please, let’s discuss this privately. You and I can determine where the mistake was made, I’m sure.”
“No discussion,” the captain retorted. “Madame Vatan accuses this woman of stealing a jade earring inscribed to her dead sister.” To Rebecca he said, “You will give me this earring, please.”
Rebecca slipped past Kash and faced the man firmly. “I sent that earring to Madame Vatan to prove my relationship to her family. She returned the earring to me when I came here as her guest.”
“I was in charge of the arrangement,” Kash added. “There was no theft.”
The captain only scowled. “Madam Vatan says the earring was stolen from her many years ago. She’s taken the past few days to decide whether to press charges. Now she has.”
Rebecca trembled with anger. “But that’s not true! The earring belonged to my father! It was a keepsake! I inherited it.”
Kash angled in front of her again. “Miss Brown had nothing to do with any theft.”
The captain unyielding stance became stiffer. “That will be determined later. She must come with us. She’ll be held in jail until this is resolved.”
Rebecca’s imagination went into overdrive. She pictured a dungeon with large roaches and sadistic lady wardens, like a bad drive-in movie she’d once seen, only with Thai actors instead of Americans. Her knees turned weak, and she leaned suddenly against Kash, gasping for breath. He caught her around the shoulders as she righted herself. His chest moved roughly under the hand she wound into his shirtfront. “I’ll go with her,” he said. “There’s no point in putting her in jail. I’ll vouch for her.”
“Who are you? Just an American who thinks he’s one of us because he’s mixed-blood. Just a mongrel. You have no authority here.”
“You’re not taking her to jail,” Kash said evenly.
Rebecca realized that he was on the verge of violence, and she sensed that the situation was only going to get worse unless she changed it. She forced herself to smile and patted Kash’s chest. “Hey, cool it.” He looked down at her with grim surprise. She smiled wider, though her stomach was jumping with nervousness. “I came here for adventure, you know? To boldly go where no cartoonist has gone before. I’ve already been kidnapped and shot at. Going to jail is the logical next step.”
As he searched her eyes, she made herself nod reassuringly. “It’ll be interesting. Really. We’re not getting anything accomplished this way, so let’s stop arguing and head for the pokey. The slammer. The old hoosegow. I’ll visit with the other inmates while you work on getting me out.”
Kash didn’t look convinced. The captain interjected, “If you don’t cooperate, I’ll arrest you, too, and then you won’t be much help to Miss Brown.”
Kash looked at if he wanted to tear someone apart. Rebecca’s thoughts churned with fear, confusion, and devotion. He was the ultimate protector, and she loved him more wildly than ever. But in a small, desolate part of her mind was the knowledge that none of this meant anything, that the words he’d spoken at the shrine only minutes earlier had been serious. He might protect and save her a thousand times, but in the end he would push her away.
“Let me go,” she said in a soft, broken voice. “I’ll be fine.”
He released her by inches, his jaw clenched and eyes black with fury as he gazed past her at the captain. “I’ll follow in a separate car.”
“Do whatever you wish,” the captain answered, and shrugged. He took Rebecca’s arm. “You’re officially under arrest, Miss Brown.”
Heart of the Dragon Page 13
