Intoxication

by L. S. Slayford

  Tara tossed back her tousled waves and nodded. “Woking is nice, but I’ve always wanted to explore other places.”

  Cong noticed the edge of sadness in her tone. “But you didn’t?” he asked, his voice softening.

  The red-headed beauty sipped on her wine as she shook her head. “No, I stayed close to my family after I graduated university, and when my local school offered me a job, I took it.”

  “You said you teach English?”

  Nodding, her smile deepened. “Yes. I teach junior school, so I’m surrounded by around thirty kids at a time each day.”

  Cong whistled in appreciation. “Gods alive, and I thought dealing with lawyers all day was bad enough. Teaching thirty children at a time is certainly impressive.”

  Laughing, Tara looked up and finally met his eyes for the first time in what seemed like an eternity. Cong’s heart shot into his throat. “It can be hard work, but it’s gratifying. The kids are like sponges; they just soak everything up. Although other days it can be extremely trying to get them to sit down and listen.”

  A wave of admiration flowed through Cong at her words. The love and respect she had for the children she taught were evident in the way she spoke and the way her eyes lit up. Cong remembered all the times when he had caused his own teachers hell when he was younger. Anyone who willingly went into teaching and enjoyed it was a saint in his eyes.

  “Do you have children of your own?” he asked, his eyes remaining locked on hers as he looked over the rim of his glass. Please say no.

  “No.”

  Thank fuck for that. “Married?”

  Another shake of the head, but the softness in her eyes was replaced by something else. “No, and I’m not seeing anyone at this time, either.”

  A hundred pataca she’s just broken up with her boyfriend. “That’s good,” Cong said, one side of his mouth curling upwards.

  Tara tilted her head and looked at him with her brows creased. “Why’s that good?”

  “It allows me to ask you out for dinner,” he replied.

  Cong watched as she inhaled deeply. For a second, he could see her heart flutter in her chest, the rush of surprise coursing through her veins. Those beautiful green eyes widened, and her mouth parted. By all the gods, didn’t she realise how sexy she looked when shocked?

  Amusement and agony washed over him as he waited for her trying to formulate an answer. Trying to play it cool, Cong carried on sipping his wine while his other hand rested on the smooth wooden bar.

  Finally, Tara closed her mouth. Taking a deep breath, she cast her eyes downwards. Damn, he wanted them meeting his. “I don’t think that’s a very good idea, Cong.”

  His name on her lips sent a ripple of excitement through him. “Oh. Why’s that?”

  “You seem like a nice guy, but I’ve not long gotten out of a relationship.”

  “And that’s why you’re in Macau?”

  Tara nodded and took a deep swallow of her wine. “Yes.”

  Cong leaned forward, and stared into her face, finally capturing those jade-green eyes with his own. “Tell me what happened,” he said, the bite of command in his tone.

  A sigh fluttered from Tara’s lips. “I was with Greg for five years. We met in college and went to university together, but it wasn’t until after we graduated that we got together. He’s an accountant, and my mum got him a job in the firm she works at. I always said she preferred him over me,” she said, forcing a plastic laugh, but Cong noticed the way her delicate fingers gripped the stem of the glass tighter. “It’s the usual story. Boy meets girl, fall in love, and move in together. My family adore him. A little too much.”

  “How so?” Cong asked, his dark brows furrowing into a crease between his eyes.

  Tara’s eyes darkened beneath his gaze. “I came home early one day and found Greg and my cousin in bed together. It’s one thing to like your girlfriend’s family, but that was taking it too far in my opinion.”

  Cong inhaled deeply. The glistening of Tara’s eyes punched him in the gut. “Yes, that’s definitely too much love in the family. Are you still talking to your cousin?”

  Tara shook her head, anger simmering in her eyes. “No. Carly can burn in hell with Greg for all I care.”

  “It sounds as though you’re still in love with your ex-boyfriend.” As soon as the words escaped his lips, Cong wished he could rewind time and stop them.

  “I’m not in love with him,” she said, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m just angry at them both. They’d been having an affair for six months before I finally caught them in the act. If Greg had wanted to be with someone else, then he should have had the audacity to tell me before he slept with her.” She took another swallow. “I’m pissed with Carly because she’s my cousin. In one way, it’s not unusual to find men sleeping around – no offence – but you don’t expect your family to screw your boyfriend behind your back. That’s the part I’m angry about. And now I’m going to stop talking because I’m ranting, and people are looking at me.”

  “Rant away, and there’s no one here but us,” he told her, his throat growing tight.

  Tara leaned forward and dropped her voice. “Then why is that couple by the window looking at me?”

  “It’s because they are struck by your beauty and can’t help themselves. Just like me,” Cong whispered, leaning forward, reaching out to touch her knee. By all the gods alive, why was his heart racing like this? What was it about this woman that forced his heart to shoot up in his throat and make him say things that a fourteen-year old boy would say to his first crush?

  “I’m not beautiful,” she whispered, those eyes going downcast, and drawing him out of the internal conversation he was having with himself.

  Cong placed a finger underneath her chin and gently forced her to meet his eyes. Those lips had lost that curve of a smile he liked to see on them. “You have no idea just how beautiful you are, Tara.”

  That enticing aroma of roses and salt hit his nose, and Cong inhaled. This was a fresh experience for him, unlike anything else. Most women doused themselves in perfume – cheap, expensive, it didn’t matter – but the woman in front of him wore her own scent, and it affected him. His libido swelled the more he inhaled.

  Cong watched as Tara swallowed, neither of them saying anything as they stared into each other’s eyes. It was as if she was trying to see through him, trying to uncover the lies in his words, but he wasn’t lying. He’d honestly never seen anyone as beautiful as she was, and the fact that she didn’t see it in herself just made him want her more.

  By the gods, he wanted her.

  Tara was like a drug. Those big green eyes had caught him, and he wanted to be reeled in. Cong longed to take that bottom lip of hers, now trembling under the weight of his words, and bite down on it. He imagined that she would taste of honey and roses, a delicious combination that he would make sure to try.

  After all, he was the Master of Macau. He got what he wanted, no matter how long it took. He would have this woman under him before she left. The desire to take away that doubt in her eyes called to him, and he would not refuse it.

  Tara finally pulled back and cleared her throat, the nervousness crystal clear in those jade eyes of hers, but still offering him a ghost of a smile. It was apparent that she didn’t believe him. But that would change. He’d make it change.

  “So how long are you here for, Tara,” he asked, trying to make sure his voice was level and didn’t betray his own turbulent emotions.

  “Two weeks,” she replied, her fingers playing with the rim of her glass. “Then I’m going to Hong Kong for another two weeks, but I’m hoping to cross over into mainland China at least once while I’m here.”

  Two weeks. That gives me enough time to woo her, Cong thought. Cocking his head to one side, he waved the barman over to fill their glasses. “What are you going to do while you’re here? Is there anything particular you want to do?”

  “I’m going to visit A-Ma Temple tomorrow. I was told
to go either early or late to escape the crowds, so since I’m an early riser, I thought I’d go in the morning.”

  “A-Ma Temple isn’t far from my office,” Cong told her, loving the way how her eyes lit up at her itinerary. “It does get crowded around lunchtime. Early morning is the best time.”

  A sigh flowed from Tara’s lips again and she took another sip of her wine. “I love temples. Especially Chinese ones. They look so graceful and elegant, and the colours are amazing. I can’t wait to go tomorrow.”

  Cong gave her another smile. “And I can’t wait for you to tell me about it tomorrow over dinner.”

  This time, Tara smiled and gave a soft chuckle. “You are resilient, Cong, I’ll give you that much.”

  A mischievous grin pinned to his mouth. “That’s true. So, you’ll have dinner with me tomorrow night.”

  Sadness fell over Tara’s face. “I don’t think that’s such a good idea, Cong. I’m only here for a few weeks and well … as I said, I’m not long out of a serious relationship. It wouldn’t be fair to you.” With that, Tara picked up the file containing her documents, sat down the half-empty wine glass, and stood up. “Thank you for returning my pages, Cong. I really do appreciate it.”

  Bowing his head slightly, Cong took her hand in his and raised it to his lips. “You’re very welcome, lengzai.”

  As she walked away, a cloud of disappointment fell over him. There was something about her that called to him, that cried out to make her his. He wanted to drive those doubts away and ensure they never came back. Those luscious curves underneath her frumpy clothes begged for his fingers to stroke them, and her lips were made for his own.

  Yeah, she may have turned down one dinner invitation but that doesn’t mean I can’t offer again, he told himself. With plans formulating in his mind, his phone vibrated within his trouser pocket. Glancing at the screen, it read ‘Ruomei.’

  Tall, with pale skin and dark eyes, Ruomei was the buxom sister of one of his business rivals in Shenzhen. They’d spend a few weeks in bed before parting ways as he recalled. Frowning, Cong opened the text.

  Hey, handsome. In town for the week. Head to my usual hotel and let me give you my special welcome.

  Tara

  Even though it was still early, the heat licked at Tara’s skin and coiled around her limbs like a hot-bloodied serpent. A disorientating haze wavered in front of her, the incense in the air curling up to the heavens, as though transporting the wishes of the worshippers to the gods themselves.

  Everywhere around her were other tourists drinking in the sights. Snippets of conversations flowed around in in various languages; Chinese, Japanese, English, French, Korean. Not that she could understand a single word other than English, but she just enjoyed listening to the words.

  It was mesmerising here. An electricity buzzed in the air, charging her emotions. A smile stretched across her face as Tara wandered around the temple complex. The heat bounced off the stonework, and the red-washed walls shimmered with light. Sweat ran down her neck, drenching the top of her pale blue t-shirt as she fanned herself with the tourist map. Many tourists headed for the shade provided by the large leafy trees growing along the sides of the complex, but even they couldn’t escape the blistering heat.

  Tara signed in contentment. If she were back at home, she’d be within the classroom teaching thirty-odd children about sentence fragments and run-on sentences while fighting off the chill of a typical English autumn. Instead, she was enjoying the heat in Macau, strolling around the tourist spots and relaxing.

  There was a magic to the temple. Not that she had any others to compare it to, but still. Every step she took seemed as if she was taking a step towards a new life, a new goal. Something. It was hard to describe, but she could imagine the goddess of the temple beckoning her closer. To something. What, though, she couldn’t tell.

  Maybe you should write about temple scene, she thought. It was an excellent idea. Although she’d finished writing her paranormal romance book, perhaps she could begin a new one before she started to edit it. Maybe centre it on a young woman who finds herself caught up in a goddess’ plans for humanity, aided by a dark and handsome man who oozed sexuality.

  Talking of which … Whiskey-soaked eyes flashed in her mind. Taking a deep breath, Tara tried to push down that ripple of excitement emerging within her stomach. Damn him. Cong had been on her mind all night, those eyes flashing in her dreams. She’d woken up hot and sweaty, her body aching.

  “You have no idea just how beautiful you are, Tara.” His words repeated in her mind, his tone low and husky.

  It had been a long time since anyone had called her beautiful. Well, apart from little Tommy, but since he was only eight it didn’t count. Tara’s brow creased as she tried to recall just how long it had been since Greg had paid her any compliment before she kicked him out. Two, three months? Longer? When was the last time she had talked to him and felt those butterflies in her stomach?

  A sigh escaped from her lips, the sound tinged with sadness. Greg had cheated on her, had betrayed her trust, but if she was completely honest with herself, she was more upset with him cheating instead of losing his love.

  Pain welled inside her chest, and a lump formed in her throat. No, it was the betrayal that had hurt her more than anything. She missed waking up with someone, being without with someone on Friday nights, but no, she wasn’t missing Greg as much as she thought she would.

  The realisation stole her breath. Things hadn’t been all that great in the last year. Perhaps they had hit a wall within their relationship. She’d started going out with Cassie and the other teachers at the school in the evenings while Greg had gone out with his friends. Gone were the romantic evenings in; the soft glow of candlelight and homecooked meals were exchanged with lighting strong enough so she could read eight-year-old’s handwritings and a quick sandwich while marking. The romance had lost its spark; maybe it had been time to call it a day on their relationship.

  But it didn’t excuse the bastard to cheat on her. And with her cousin at that.

  Carly was another matter. The anger towards her cousin still raged. It didn’t matter how much you fancied another woman’s man; there were just some things you didn’t do to family members. Having an affair with your cousin’s boyfriend certainly made the top of the list.

  Tara glanced upwards. Another red-washed building stood at the top of a long flight of stone stairs. Groaning inwardly, Tara braced herself for another gruelling trek in the heat. She wanted to see what was up there.

  Grabbing hold of the rail, she pulled herself up the first step. The heat hammered down on her back, draining her of her energy. Struggling to get enough air into her lungs, she inhaled deeply several times. It was as if her legs felt hollow suddenly, and nausea rose from her stomach. Closing her eyes, Tara struggled to breathe, wondering how the muscles which held her upright just a few seconds ago now fought to maintain her weight.

  Just one more step, she commanded, pulling herself up the stone step with all the energy she could muster. Pulling her right foot up, she expected it to meet stone, but it didn’t.

  It didn’t meet anything but air.

  Tara knew she was falling. Panic sent blood pumping in her ears to the point she could hear her pulse thumping inside her head. Everything froze around her but sped up at the same time. All the air in her lungs rushed from her open mouth, and locks of red hair flung out in front of her, as though reaching out for some unseen force. Desperation caused her to try and grip the hand-railing tighter, but the layer of sweat that glazed her hands made it slip out of her grasp. Tara waited for the rush of pain she knew was coming.

  But it never came.

  Two hands caught her from behind, her head slamming against a hard chest, where she found herself pinned. “Can you not go anywhere without falling?” a voice asked her, coated with a layer of amusement, hot breath cascading down her neck.

  Still wrapped in his arms, Tara glanced upwards. Bronze skin shone in the morning
light, contrasting with the whiteness of his teeth, and despite his eyes hidden behind dark sunglasses, Tara instantly recognised the voice. “Evidently not,” she breathed, a smile blossoming on her face in relief, her body sinking into the feel of his arms wrapped around her.

  Helping her to stand, Cong reached down to his briefcase, now fallen to the ground along with his jacket. Pulling out a bottle of ice-cold water, he unscrewed the cap and handed it to her. “Drink this,” he commanded, the teasing tone quickly replaced. “It’s very easy to get dehydrated here if you don’t drink enough. You’re a teacher; you should know that in hot weather you need drink.”

  “Yes, I know that,” she told him testily, quickly drinking the water offered to her. Within seconds, half the contents had vanished, and the shakiness had started to subside. Turning her head upwards, she gave him a relieved smile. “Thanks for the water.”

  The smile on his face deepened, causing dimples to appear. Damn, Tara hadn’t seen those before, and her knees threatened to give way again. “You’re welcome, lengzai. Although I’m wondering if I shouldn’t dress you in bubble wrap while you’re in my town.”

  As her eyebrows shoot upwards, Tara’s lips curled into a smile. “Your town? Does Macau belong to you, then?”

  Cong titled his head, his smile faltering for a moment before a self-satisfied grin appeared. “I’m rich enough to own the damn place. No, I have a better idea. I think I’d rather see you in a gold dress. It would go nicely with your hair.”

  Telling herself it was the heat that made her weak and not the hunger in his voice, Tara took in as much air as she could before trying to distract herself with another long swallow of water. When she finally felt as though her voice would betray her, she turned back to him. “What are you doing here, Cong?”

  He shrugged, and it annoyed her that she couldn’t see his eyes. “The temple is on the way to my office. I try to come here a few times a week to pray.”

  Tara bit her lip. “I didn’t see you as the religious type.”