Jade Island

by Elizabeth Lowell

  “Like Bride Dreaming?”

  Lianne closed her eyes and saw in her mind the utter relaxation of the sculpture, the sated smile, the softly swollen lips, the rare cat’s-eye shine of the jade between the bride’s thighs.

  “Yes,” she said in a husky voice. She cleared her throat. “Like Bride Dreaming.”

  Hastily she picked up the next jade, which was resting in a silk-lined lacquer box. The sculpture was slightly longer than her hand and in the shape of an erect penis. She turned the piece over, noted the quality of the stone and the carving, and returned it to the box.

  Kyle leaned over Lianne’s bent head and tried not to notice the fragile, very female scent that curled into his nostrils. “You’re not talking.”

  She froze, then relaxed. He was so close to her ear that his breath stirred wisps of her hair against her skin, raising goose bumps. “Not much to talk about. That’s either a device to instruct prostitutes in fellatio or a rather uninspired sculpture, or both.”

  “I suppose the Tang vault has a better one?”

  “Offhand, I can think of at least five. The jade stem was a favorite subject of erotica as well as, possibly, a ritual object in ancient times.”

  Rapidly Lianne finished surveying the jade pieces Seng had offered in trade. Nothing she saw made her feel better about the trade she had been told to carry out.

  Kyle sensed Lianne’s increasing tension and wondered what was bothering her. As she put aside each jade, she made quick, almost slashing notes. After the last one, she flipped to a new page and wrote quickly. When she was finished, she ripped out the sheet and left it on the conference table.

  “You haven’t said anything for fifteen minutes,” he pointed out.

  “Add it to what I already owe you.”

  With tight, jerky motions she stashed the tablet, magnifying glass, and pen back in her big purse. As she shouldered her bag, she tried not to think how angry the Tangs would be with her.

  But she was damned if she would put her name on the bottom line of such a thinly disguised bribe.

  “Aren’t you supposed to take this jade back with you?” Kyle asked, gesturing to the pieces Lianne had just examined.

  “Yes.”

  “Then we’d better round up some packing material.”

  “That won’t be necessary.” Lianne picked up the smaller of the two boxes that she had brought with her. “Get the other one, would you?”

  Kyle’s eyebrows shot up, but he did as she asked. “Now what?”

  “Now we leave.”

  “No trade?”

  “Not as far as I’m concerned.”

  “How will Seng feel about it?”

  “Like he was shown a ham and given a weenie.”

  Kyle grunted. Behind the cover of the box he had picked up, he drew his gun and flicked off the safety. Only then did he head out of the conference room.

  Lianne was close on his heels as he strode down the hall. Neither of them bothered to say good-bye to the guard who was still seated near the front door.

  Just as they opened the door, someone started yelling from the back of the pavilion. The guard reached under his coat, only to freeze when he saw Kyle’s gun pointing right at him.

  Han Ju burst around a corner, raced toward the front door, and skidded to a stop. He began berating the guard in Chinese.

  “Ju,” Kyle said curtly.

  The man turned toward him.

  “Pick up that phone and call the guard at the dock. Tell him you need him here to escort Seng’s guests back to their boat. Speak in English. And don’t stand between me and your pet kick boxer unless you want to get caught in the crossfire.”

  Ju didn’t argue or lie about his understanding of English. He picked up the phone carefully, told the marina guard to come to the executive pavilion, and hung up.

  “Kyle—” Lianne began.

  “In a minute,” he interrupted without taking his eyes off Ju. “Does Smiley understand English?” Kyle asked, indicating the guard.

  “No,” Ju said.

  “Lianne, tell the guard to slowly put his gun on the floor and slide it over here. If I see the barrel of his gun pointing at anything but his chest, I’ll shoot him.”

  Lianne spoke rapidly.

  Without looking away from Kyle, the guard drew his gun. Slowly. He set it on the polished marble floor, butt toward Kyle. A nudge of the guard’s foot sent the gun sliding toward Lianne. The metal gleamed like water in the gentle light of the hallway.

  “Do you know how to handle a gun?” Kyle asked her.

  “With great care.”

  “That’s a good start. Pick it up.”

  Awkwardly, still holding onto the carton of jade, Lianne picked up the gun and looked at Kyle. He flicked a glance at the gun she was holding.

  “Okay,” he said. “It’s on safety. Tuck it out of sight and head for the boat. I’ll be right behind you.”

  The sound of Lianne’s footsteps faded rapidly.

  “Ju,” Kyle said, “tell the guard to lie facedown, feet pointed toward the front door.”

  The guard was moving before Ju stopped talking.

  “Now lie on top of him,” Kyle said.

  Ju started to object, then stopped at a motion of Kyle’s gun. Muttering in Chinese, Ju lay on top of the guard.

  “The first man who looks toward the front door is going to piss me off,” Kyle said calmly. “I’ll be in the bushes by the front door, waiting for the marina guard.”

  Quietly, his boat shoes soundless on the shiny floor, Kyle went backward out the door. The motion-sensing lights along the path to the marina were still burning from Lianne’s passage. When Kyle caught up with her on the second turn in the winding path, his gun was nowhere in sight.

  The guard nearly ran them down on the third turn.

  “Thanks for coming,” Kyle said to him, “but I told Ju we knew the way. Hurry along, sweetheart. We want to catch the tide.”

  Lianne lengthened her stride. Kyle followed right on her heels. The guard looked uncertain, then stuck to his primary orders: never leave guests unescorted on the island. He walked behind Kyle and Lianne to the dock, watched as they stepped onto the Tomorrow, started the blower, and prepared to cast off.

  Just as Kyle fired up the engine, the guard’s beeper began to shrill.

  “Time to go,” Kyle said to Lianne. “Get in the cabin, but leave the door open.”

  He cast off the lines and drove the boat from the aft station instead of from the wheel in the cabin.

  By the time the guard started yelling, they were several hundred feet off the dock. Kyle switched to the forward helm station in two seconds flat. With a deep, throaty roar, the Tomorrow came up on plane and raced away. Its newly installed bow lights split the darkness, searching for the floating logs that were a hazardous fact of navigation in the San Juan Islands.

  Lianne sat in the pilot seat across the narrow aisle from Kyle. She looked shut down and wired tight at the same time. If she had anything on her mind. she wasn’t talking about it.

  “Mind telling me what that was all about?” he asked.

  “Not yet. Please. I have to think. God, what a mess. Wen will be furious. The Tangs need Seng’s goodwill.”

  “So they offered a bribe? Good jade for bad?”

  Her hands clenched even more tightly in her lap. She wasn’t happy with her decision not to go through with the jade trade, but she didn’t know what else she could have done. What she did know was that she was very grateful she hadn’t gone to meet Seng by herself. Without Kyle, she was certain that she wouldn’t have gotten the Tang jades off Farmer Island.

  Not to mention the problem of Seng and his expectation of screwing her among the mediocre visual aids.

  “Talk to me, Lianne. I need to know what’s going on.”

  “I didn’t want my name attached to such a one-sided trade,” she said flatly. “All of Seng’s jades put together didn’t equal one of the three Tang pieces I appraised for this trade.”
>
  Frowning, Kyle brought the speed down to a safer nighttime pace. “How many of these sealed-box trades have you brokered for the Tangs?”

  “With Seng?”

  “With anyone.”

  Lianne hesitated. “I’m not sure. Six, perhaps seven. The most recent ones have been with Seng, here in Seattle. A while back, there was a Taiwanese trader and a mainland Chinese collector.”

  “Do you do this for other clients, or just for the Tang family?”

  “Just for Wen, actually. I began doing it about six months ago, when his eyesight failed and he wasn’t strong enough to travel anymore.”

  “Is this the first trade you’ve refused?”

  “Yes.”

  “Were the others more even?”

  Closing her eyes, Lianne tried to relax her clenched hands. “I don’t know,” she said starkly.

  But she was afraid she did. She sat with her hands gripped in her lap and her mouth a thin, tight line. Silence pooled in the cabin as thickly as night.

  Kyle started to push for more information, then decided against it. Navigating the waters of the San Juan Islands after dark was tricky enough without trying to pry information out of a reluctant suspect at the same time. He would wait until Lianne was back at his cabin.

  Then he would get some answers.

  “Watch your step,” Kyle said as he finished tying off the stern line of the Tomorrow. “The dock can be slippery.”

  With an easy motion, he lifted Lianne from the well of the boat to the dew-slick dock beside him. She made a startled noise and hung onto his arms until she felt the dock supporting her feet.

  “Progress,” he said. “Good.”

  “What?”

  “You made a sound. Two sounds. One of them might actually have been a word.”

  She flushed. She knew she hadn’t been much company on the ride back from Farmer Island. “I’m sorry. I don’t want you to think I’m not grateful for all you’ve done. I am. Without you…” She shivered. It didn’t bear thinking about. “I was just wondering about…jade.”

  “Jade, or bad trades?”

  Lianne would have turned away, but she couldn’t. Kyle was too close.

  “Then how about an even trade?” he asked. “Better yet, a good one.”

  Suddenly his breath was warm against her lips, his mouth even warmer. Hot. Savory. Hungry.

  And there was no taxi waiting.

  She told herself that she shouldn’t, even as she reached for him, needing him in too many ways to deny herself the reckless oblivion she sensed waiting for her in this one man.

  Kyle meant to go slowly, to seduce Lianne with the kind of finesse that would have her begging for more. A few kisses on the dock with the wind blowing sea-scented and mysterious around them, a few more kisses along the path where fir trees whispered to the night, a glass of wine in front of a fire, a languid unraveling of clothes and mind…

  Then he tasted her, deep and long and hard. He made a thick sound and thought of nothing but sinking into her, dragging her against his body, drawing heat from her, the hottest kind of fire. He bit at her lips, dove into her with his tongue, fought through clothing until he found her breasts soft and hot, her nipples hard, begging to be plucked by his fingers and his mouth.

  Too late Kyle realized that Lianne was half undressed and his hands were all over her, his mouth pulling at her, devouring her. He tried to lift his head, to stop, but Lianne’s fingers were locked in his hair, holding him tight against her breast while husky, hungry sounds rippled out of her. With the last of his self-control, he managed to turn his head aside.

  “The house,” Kyle said hoarsely.

  Lianne’s only answer was the arch of her back, her hips seeking him blindly. She wanted more of him and she wanted it now, before she remembered all the reasons she shouldn’t have him at all. But she couldn’t say that, because she couldn’t think of anything except the heat twisting through her, tangling her mind, burning through logic to the elemental need beneath.

  “Now,” Lianne said raggedly. “Now.”

  Kyle’s last logical thought was that it was a good thing his cabin was isolated and the dock private. Because after the next breath neither one of them would care if they were on the hood of a car in a traffic jam. With one hand he unfastened his pants. His other arm wrapped around her bottom and lifted her until her hips were level with his.

  “Put your legs around me,” he said. And then he fastened his mouth on hers.

  When Lianne felt Kyle’s hand between her thighs, she shuddered and tried to get even closer to him. The feel of his fingers maddened her. Stroking, testing, probing slickly. It wasn’t enough. Nothing could be enough. She needed everything and she needed it all at once, right now.

  She twisted against him, trying to tell him what she must have. Words were impossible. Their mouths were fused together, teeth and tongues and hunger raging to be fed. She whimpered when his fingers slid in. The first wave of pleasure rocked her, yet it still wasn’t enough. It was moonlight when she needed the fires of hell. She wanted him deep, wanted him hard, wanted him forever.

  His grip shifted, opening her thighs until he could take her with a savage movement of his hips. After he filled her he pushed deeper, stretching her, demanding that she take all of him. Her slick core clenched around him, drenching him as she made a keening sound of ecstasy. The fierce satin grip and release of her climax demanded that he give himself as completely as she did. With a throttled cry he drove hard and deep, pumping himself into her until the world went darker than night around him.

  And then there was nothing but the sound of two people fighting to get breath into their bodies.

  After a time Lianne slumped against Kyle, utterly relaxed except for her legs still locked around his hips. Her breath came out in a shuddering sigh.

  “Did you get the license number of whatever hit us?” she asked huskily.

  He laughed. The motion moved him inside her. He felt the ripple of her body, the shivering, clenching, shivering, and heard her low, shocked cry as she climaxed again. His arms tightened, pulling her hard against his crotch. His hips pumped once, twice, then again for the sheer hellish pleasure of feeling her heat drench him, her body slack but for the sweet fist holding him deep.

  Hunger sank its bittersweet claws into Kyle, but his teeth were a white flash of laughter in the moonlight. He felt like a magician or a god or a very, very lucky man.

  Finally Lianne made a husky, incoherent sound, sighed, and bit his chest with lazy sensuality. Heat snaked through Kyle, tightening him inside her. She tightened around him in turn.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” he said, releasing her, letting her slide down his body. “I want you in bed next time.”

  “Next time?” she asked. Then she saw the gleaming length of his erection standing out from his clothes. “Oh. Next time.”

  And she smiled.

  With a distant, shocked part of her mind, Lianne realized that she was standing on a dock in business shoes and thigh-high nylons, her skirt bunched around her waist, her bikini briefs askew, and salt air cool between her legs. If she had had the energy, she would have been embarrassed. But she felt much too good to worry about it.

  “And if I don’t cover you up,” Kyle said huskily, “the next time will be right here.”

  Before Lianne knew what he was doing, he knelt and very carefully eased the narrow crotch of her thong-cut panties into place. Through the dark nylon lace he kissed flesh that quivered at his touch. Quickly he smoothed down her skirt and stood before he lost his head again. Then he licked his lips, tasted her, and was lost. He sank back down on his knees.

  It was a long time before they made it up to the cabin.

  Chapter 16

  Beneath leaden skies and a fitful wind, the Pace Lane was backed up heading into Canada. Normally Lianne would have been impatient, but today she was simply relieved. The last thing she wanted to do on the morning of her thirtieth birthday was to go to Vancouver and confro
nt Wen over a business deal she had refused to carry out.

  No, it was the next-to-last thing she wanted to do. The last thing would be to hand over excellent jade, accept lesser goods, and sign her name to the appraisal sheets.

  Cars crept forward. The Pace Lane went marginally faster than the rest of the traffic. To pass the time, Lianne studied the signs of returning green along the highway and admired the fresh plantings in the Peace Park. Anything to take her mind off the upcoming confrontation in the Tang family compound.

  Family. But not hers. Not really.

  Clients, she reminded herself. Think of the Tangs as clients and everyone will be happier. Actually, think of them as former clients. Because in a few hours, they probably would be just that. Former.

  Lianne forced her thoughts away from the Tangs and thought of last night instead. And this morning. What a wonderful way to turn thirty. An iridescent thrill shot through her from her breasts to her knees as she remembered lying in bed with Kyle’s beautiful eyes, smoky from desire, looking at her. Just looking at her.

  She had felt sensitive all over, fully alive, loved. Or at least enjoyed. Thoroughly. She had never known a lover like Kyle—hungry, intense, sensual to the soles of his feet, giving as much as he took. Giving more. One night with him, and every man she had ever known, even the one she had once loved, was now in a category labeled “BK: Before Kyle.”

  And after Kyle…?

  The thought of “after” didn’t appeal to Lianne. She was thirty years old now, more than old enough to understand that men like Kyle Donovan were rarer than imperial jade. She knew she should prepare herself for the emptiness to come, but this morning she simply didn’t have the energy. She felt too good, especially the sweet ache that came when she thought about holding him hard and hungry, so deep inside her she felt like part of him, same breath, same heartbeat, same sleek, sweaty skin.

  And Kyle did care about her outside of bed. He wanted to help her.

  Lianne, we’ve got to talk. Are you in some kind of trouble because of these jades?