Jade

by Jill Marie Landis

  Jason strode through the house unnoticed, looking for Jade. He stopped dead still in the foyer and stared at the flowers banked on tables outside the ballroom doors. Suspicious, he crossed the hall, opened the double doors, and paused dumbfounded on the threshold. Chinese lanterns were strung across the room. Cut flowers and potted plants filled every corner. Tables had been arranged everywhere—high ones, low ones, lampstands, card tables, pedestal tables, side tables, drawing room tables. He shook his head. They had to have come from every spare room in the house. Each and every table held a piece of Chinese goods on display. He glanced over his shoulder, but no one noticed he had entered, so he walked slowly around the room, studying the collection in silence.

  Colorful blue and white porcelain pieces reminded him of his blue willow dinner plates. There were pieces of jade displayed in lacquer boxes lined with velvet; small bowls and teapots he recognized for what they were. The function of other pieces was more curious. There was a watchtower of green glazed clay standing in a bowl. Tiny figures were perched on every level.

  Painted scrolls hung suspended from the light fixtures. He stepped close to them and studied the intricate details of the scenes. Warriors and their ladies were depicted on some, while others were of trees and mountains.

  He paused beside each and every piece until he had seen them all, then he quit the room and stealthily closed the doors behind him. Maybe it’s my own fault, he thought, for leaving her to her own devices. He had thrown himself into his work. He and Xavier spent long hours with the horses, and when he was not working with them, he spent his time with Matt downtown or visiting outlying ranches, lining up more stock to take home. But now it seemed as if he were not the only busy one. Jade was up to something again, and he wanted to know exactly what it was.

  He took the stairs two at a time and walked into her room unannounced. Standing with her back to the door, she glanced over her shoulder at him with the startled, wide-eyed expression that he had come to expect.

  “Hello, Jason.”

  He made note of the way she sounded so suspiciously casual. “What’s going on downstairs?” he asked.

  She turned around, but kept her hands behind her back, out of sight. “It’s so nice to see you, too.”

  “Don’t toy with me, Jade. What’s all the fuss downstairs?”

  She took a deep breath and shrugged. “I’m having a little gathering tonight. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

  “How did you plan to find out if I’d mind or not? When were you going to tell me about this . . . gathering?”

  “As soon as you came in. Which is now, I guess.”

  She appeared to be wiggling, struggling with something behind her back.

  “What are you doing?” he said, stepping toward her.

  She shook her head. “Nothing.”

  “Don’t push me, Jade.”

  “Nothing, really.”

  “Let me see your hands. You’re hiding something from me.”

  “Jason, you are getting ridiculous.”

  “Now.”

  She put her left hand in front of her.

  “And the other.”

  Sheepishly, she stared down at the toes of her slippers, then extended the other arm. There was a vase wedged on it up to her elbow.

  Jason planted his fists on his hips and grinned. “What am I going to do with you?”

  She looked up when she heard the note of humor in his voice. “Could you get this thing off me?” She even risked a smile.

  He took off his hat and tossed it onto her bed. Then he stepped toward her. All his pent-up feelings for her, all the need he had tried to hold at bay, surged through him now that she was finally close enough to embrace. Jason found himself shaking as he reached out to take her arm. He paused, wiped his palms on his thighs, and then took the vase in both hands.

  Jade closed her eyes when he took hold of her. He smelled delectably like Jason—of shaving soap and the outdoors. As he stared down at the vase, trying to figure out how to loosen it, she took advantage of her closeness to study the clean line of his jaw, the way his crisp hair waved over his collar, the sea-blue of his eyes.

  He glanced up and caught her staring at him. He was close enough to feel her warm breath on the side of his face. He nearly let go of her, almost called Tao to have him get Jade out of this latest predicament, but he couldn’t release his hold on her any more than he could let her walk out of his life forever. Their situation would have made him laugh if it had not been so pathetic. They lived together as husband and wife, but with none of the pleasurable benefits. He wanted her. Wanted her to the very core of his being, but he couldn’t risk losing his heart again.

  But there was only so much a man could stand.

  As he wavered, trying to decide what to do, she blinked twice and then said, “Do you think you can get it off?”

  He glanced down at the vase and then back up into her green eyes. “I’ll hold. You pull.” He tightened his grip on the vase.

  She tugged, but nothing happened.

  “What now?”

  “Do you mind my asking why you put your danged hand in there in the first place?”

  She glanced away. “I saw a piece of paper down inside it.”

  “Couldn’t you shake it out?”

  “If I could have, would I be standing here like this?”

  He laughed out loud as she shrugged, her arms spread wide, one of them hidden in the vase.

  “Do you have any cream? Any lotion?”

  “On the chest of drawers,” she said.

  He pulled her across the room, where he paused long enough to open a jar of rose-scented lotion and spread it liberally around the opening. Then, he held the vase again and Jade twisted her wrist until her arm slid free.

  The folded paper was still in her hand.

  “I hope it was worth it,” Jason said, staring at it curiously. “Who put it there? Your grandfather?”

  “No. This came from a box of other things. Things I’m certain belonged to the alchemist.”

  Life had progressed at such an even pace lately, Jason had all but forgotten the mystery of the missing Chinese wizard. Since there had been no further attempts on Jade’s life, he was fairly convinced that she and Babs had orchestrated the earlier tries. The whole affair was something he had tried to forget. But now, as Jade stood there with a letter she believed had been planted in the vase, only now revealing to him the fact that she had kept secret an entire box of evidence, he wondered when he would stop playing into her hands.

  He watched as she unfolded the note. “What does it say?”

  “I wish I knew.” She held it up for his inspection. The page contained more of the mysterious symbols that had been painted on the crates.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Happy people never count hours as they pass . . .

  “HAVE YOU TOLD Lieutenant Chang about these things?”

  Sheepishly, she shook her head. “Not yet.”

  “Why not?”

  “I wanted to try to work out the riddle to the symbols first, to make up for my father’s part in all this. Besides, I’ve been too busy planning the . . . party.” Before she thought, she had mentioned it again.

  J.T.’s reaction was immediate. His expression darkened. “Which is why I came up here in the first place. Why don’t you tell me about this little ‘party’ of yours?”

  “Matt suggested it,” she began. “I want to house Grandfather’s things in a museum—”

  “Which you can do without a party. Besides, I thought those things meant everything to you. If I’m not mistaken, they were part of the reason you married me.”

  “You are mistaken.”

  He went on as if she had not spoken. “Now you want to just give them away?” He couldn’t believe wha
t he had heard. First she married him in order to have the funds to retrieve the collection, then she gave up the adobe, and now she claimed she wanted to donate the Chinese pieces to the city.

  “There’s so much you don’t understand,” she said, rubbing her temples. Her head was aching again.

  “Obviously not, so why don’t you take a minute to enlighten me.” He strode over to her chaise and stretched out on it.

  Against the bright chintz background, Jason appeared totally incongruous. His worn work pants, leather vest, and open-collared shirt appeared all the more masculine against the elegant, floral print upholstery.

  “Grandfather felt that if people were to be educated about the Chinese, that art was the perfect way to do it. No one will want to help fund a museum if they don’t see the value in the items.” She took a deep breath and struggled to explain. “Little China is a city within a city, but all most people know about the Chinese is their food and that they supply San Francisco with cheap labor. When they were brought into this country to lay the railroad tracks and work the gold mines, everyone thought they would eventually go back to China. But they stayed, and now over fifteen thousand immigrate a year. They are looked upon as inferior people, Jason, inferior merely because they look different, dress differently—their whole culture is strange when you compare it to ours. But China is thousands of years old. The Chinese were writing poetry before the Europeans were out of caves.”

  He watched her come alive as she spoke, her enthusiasm adding high color to her pale complexion. Her hands moved as her enthusiasm grew. Unconsciously she began to step toward him when she wanted to emphasize a particular statement. Jason had to warn himself not to be taken in by her beauty.

  “I want the people of this city to care enough to want to house Grandfather’s collection where it can be viewed and appreciated by everyone in San Francisco. Perhaps then, over time, the Chinese will be appreciated for what they have brought to California. I’ve invited guests who are well able to donate funds to a museum. All I have to do is convince them the idea is worthwhile.”

  J.T. felt in his vest pocket for a cigarillo, but his hand came away empty. She was convincing, he’d grant her that. “It all sounds very commendable. What’s the trick?”

  “Damn it, Jason, there is no trick. I was willing to give up the collection before we were married, but now, thanks to Matt, I think I’ve found a way to house it permanently, just as Grandfather wanted. I would never have let the pieces stand in the way of our future.”

  Abruptly, he stood up, turned his back on her, and stared out the window. In the stableyard below, Xavier was training a dappled Arabian to work as a cutting horse, one that would separate cattle from a herd. But his mind was not on the scene outside. “It’s a little late for that, don’t you think?” His voice was stone-cold and lifeless.

  Jade felt all the fight drain out of her. Her head was reeling. She wished he would leave so that she could lie down. She turned away from him and stood before the window. “The party is going on as planned. Tonight. You can attend, or you can avoid it and me—just as you usually do.”

  “What?” He swung around to face her. “What’s that supposed to mean? At least I’m not the one who has to hide behind books all the time.”

  She tossed back her head and glared at him. “No? That’s because you’re too busy living in the stables, that’s why.” Fed up with his accusations, she turned away. “Since you are as stubborn as a mule that seems to be the best place for you anyway. “

  He didn’t know exactly how she had done it, but she had infuriated him again. “I suppose since I haven’t taken you out to any fancy social gatherings that you had to hold one here just to spite me. Is that it?”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I wondered how long it would be before you put up a fuss.”

  “You know so little about me.” She shook her head. He was hopeless.

  Angered when she would not turn around and face him, Jason crossed the room, grabbed her shoulder, and spun her around. He could not ignore the fact that she flinched—the protective gesture maddened him enough to grab her arms and pull her close. “I know you must have needs, Jade. You’re more than the cold scholar you pretend to be.”

  She tried to push him away, but there was no moving him. Her breath came faster as her pulse increased tenfold. She felt his searing gaze, felt the heat of him as he imprisoned her against his length. When her knees grew weak, she cursed him simply because he knew that her body betrayed her every time he touched her.

  His voice softened as his hold tightened. “And I know that no matter how hard I try, I can’t get you out of my blood. You’re like the opium the Chinese indulge in.” His voice broke as he fought his own feelings. “I can’t stay away from you.”

  He smothered her lips with his own, but there was no punishment there, no brutality. The kiss was a welcome relief after the heated tension between them. As J.T. enfolded her in his embrace, the world around them ceased to exist. No longer did they hear the sound of Xavier’s commands as he worked the Arabian. Tao Ling’s frantic instructions to the other help and Quan Yen’s high-pitched giggles faded away as Jade and Jason became lost in the sensations evoked by their exchange.

  Suddenly, J.T. tore his lips from hers and stood her away from him. She swayed, disoriented for a moment, then focused on him. His lips were taut, white about the edges like a man in pain. He was thinking about something. Wrestling with something that caused him to knit his brow as his gaze roamed over her upturned face.

  The silence lengthened between them. Finally, in a tone laced with determination, he said, “You had better see to it that your watchdog isn’t on guard outside the door tonight. If he is”—he forced his lips into an unpleasant smile—“well, let’s just say, I’d hate to hurt him.”

  “Jason, please. You can’t mean this—”

  “I do. You’re my wife and I’ve ignored that fact long enough, Jade. I don’t want to hear any more ultimatums about love and trust, either. I want you in my bed tonight, and I intend to have you. Have your party. Do whatever you want. But when it’s all over, you’re mine.”

  His hands dropped to his sides. For a moment he looked about to say more, but then he walked toward the bed. He picked up his hat, fingered the crown, then turned back. “You don’t need to look so scared. I promise you tonight won’t be like our wedding night.” This time he was determined to see that she experienced complete fulfillment. Tonight he would take his time with her until Jade cried out for release and not from fear.

  Afraid to stay in the same room with her any longer, Jason shoved on his hat and walked out the door.

  She watched him as he coldly walked away without a backward glance. He left her shaken and chilled. Jade sank down on the settee, absently traced the floral pattern, and wondered how she was going to get through the evening. Running away was out of the question. He was her husband. Until he was willing to let her go, he would come after her.

  Besides, she was not a coward. Running was not her way. Nor could she deny the fact that her body still responded to his. A slow, aching warmth had begun when he kissed her, building until it had spread throughout her body. She had wished for a chance to make their marriage work, but she had also told him he could not have her until he had learned to trust her again.

  Why now? She stood on shaking legs and crossed the room until she stood before the mirror above the chest of drawers. Why did he have to give her such an ultimatum before one of the most important nights of her life?

  Jade walked to the armoire, opened it, and stared inside, but nothing new materialized. Her thoughts were too scattered for her to concentrate on anything. Her head still ached. Unable to do anything else at the moment, she climbed up onto the bed and stretched out, hoping meditation would alleviate her inner turmoil.

  In a dream that seemed to bor
der on reality, she saw herself dressed in a vibrant, blood-red robe. An outstanding work of art in and of itself, the shimmering silk was covered with threads of gold and silver. Suns, moons, stars all vied with animal figures of dragons, lions, tigers, and cranes. Undecipherable Chinese characters had been embroidered in and around the figures, even down the sleeves that were wide and banded with bright yellow-gold. Because of the way she felt with the robe on, Jade knew the silk was endowed with a life of its own. In her dream, the curious robe was the perfect complement to the display and the evening ahead.

  When she awoke, Jade felt refreshed but disappointed that she possessed no such miracle robe. But the strange dream had helped her come to a decision about what to wear to the soiree. Still unwilling to think about Jason’s parting promise, she took her navy Mandarin jacket and pants out of the armoire and dressed for the evening.

  THREE HOURS LATER, Jade stared around the ballroom and wished that the ground would open up and swallow her, and not because her preparations weren’t executed as planned.

  White-jacketed waiters hired for the evening moved unobtrusively among the crowd. Tao Ling, assisted by a cousin who worked as a chef in a restaurant in Little China, kept the food trays filled with Chinese delicacies. For those who did not care for such fare, he had purchased baked goods from a bakery. Another cousin’s business, Tao explained.

  The paper lanterns added a touch of gaiety to the formal ballroom; the gas chandeliers provided the perfect amount of light for viewing the collection. To anyone who merely passed by and looked in at the tableau, everything would seem perfect.

  But in reality, nothing had gone right since Tao had opened the door to the first guests.

  As she had suspected he might, Jason avoided the affair. She had not seen him since early afternoon, when he left her in her room. As a result, she welcomed her guests alone—a sad reception line of one—until Matt arrived early on and stood beside her. Her nerves were in such a state that his voluntary show of concern had nearly been her undoing.