“I’ll meet you at the restaurant in fifteen minutes,” Terrence said. “I need to have a word with my first mate.”
“We’ll see you in a tad, then.” Uncle James used the heel of his palm to guide Aunt Emma forward.
Su-Lin followed the thickset couple but cut a glance over her shoulder, hunting for her future lover.
Their eyes met.
He wore an amused smile, as if he knew she would search for him and wanted to prolong their interaction. When he touched his fingers to his lips and sent a kiss in her direction, she stumbled, stubbing her big toe on the first step leading to a garden pathway.
On autopilot, she never noticed the lush landscape of forest and exotic blooms shading the winding clay path leading to the Eden Roc restaurant. She snapped to attention when Aunt Emma waved a hand in front of her unseeing eyes.
“Honestly, Jenny, you spend too much time daydreaming. Did you even hear what I just said?”
The lyrical breeze, which swept across the open-air dining area, whistling as it whooped through a narrow opening here, rattling shutters against stuccoed walls there, couldn’t cool Su-Lin’s heated skin. Her aunt’s comment resonated like an insult, and at the thought, a wave of guilt flushed her flesh further.
“I’m sorry, Aunt Emma. What did you say?”
“I said we were very fortunate to contract Terrence O’Connor and the
Glory
for our cruise. The girls at the spa said he’s very particular about who’s allowed to charter his yacht.”
“The concierge said he was the best.” Uncle James waved a chubby hand at a white-clad waiter about four feet away. “And nothing but the best for my girls, hey?” He beamed at his wife and winked at his niece. “Bleeding service in this hotel’s slow. Hey, garçon, over here.”
Su-Lin cringed and sank into the chair. She winced when the waiter rolled his eyes and loped their way, his pace a deliberate, slow stroll. Over the last few weeks, she’d come to realize her aunt and uncle disdained anyone not of their class or wealth and treated people in menial positions with a derisive condescension.
While Uncle James ordered their drinks, Su-Lin concentrated on the panoramic view of the azure Mediterranean fronting the restaurant. She inhaled the mixture of aromas -- tangy sea brine, fish, and smoke -- and allowed the scents to soothe away the surge of irritation Aunt Emma never failed to raise.
“Make sure you wear one of your new outfits tonight, Jennifer. Your uncle’s classmates and business colleagues will all be there. We haven’t seen them in years. Don’t wear that oriental thing you insisted on packing. You’re going to be mingling with British aristocracy. Dressed appropriately, with those green eyes, maybe no one will realize you’re of mixed blood.”
It took all of Su-Lin’s self-control and discipline not to bound to her feet and shout at her aunt. Instead, she geared her fury into a rushed, gritted pronouncement.
“Uncle James, Aunt Emma, I prefer to be called Su-Lin. That’s the name I’ve used all my life. No one’s ever called me Jenny or Jennifer, and I really don’t like it. My name is Su-Lin.”
Aunt Emma’s dark eyebrows slashed together; then she pursed her lips and opened her mouth.
Uncle James elbowed his wife and shot her a shut-the-dickens-up frown.
He faced Su-Lin and nodded, sending a ripple down his multiple chins.
“Of course, love, if that’s what you’re used to.” His large, moist hand patted her small one, and she tamped down the wave of revulsion his touch provoked. “If I slip tonight, correct me. I want everyone addressing you the way you prefer. And if you do decide to move to Hong Kong and live with us, the oriental name will come in handy.”
Live in Hong Kong? With them? Had he mentioned that before? Su-Lin searched her nonchronological memories of the past few weeks. Even if he had mentioned her living in Hong Kong, she hadn’t agreed, thank the Fates.
“Have you three ordered?”
Su-Lin jumped, and her head swung in the direction of Terrence O’Connor’s deep, husky voice. One moccasin-clad foot edged the chair adjacent to hers away from the table, and he sank into it, his long legs stretching out and disappearing under the pristine white tablecloth.
“Just our drinks,” Uncle James replied. He snapped his fingers and said, his voice clear and ringing over the low murmur of conversation and laughter swelling on a cool gust, “Garçon, garçon.”
She swept a glance at Terrence and caught his stifled wince, the brief shuttering of his eyes, and the slight pursing of his mouth. As if he’d felt her gaze, his gray eyes held hers, and the warmth and intensity blazing there made her lungs stutter.
He straightened in the chair, shifted, rested his elbow on the table, and propped his stubbled chin in a cupped hand. “My first mate’s working on an itinerary, James. You did say earlier that you wanted to include the Greek isles in the cruise?”
“Definitely. Haven’t done this excursion in over a decade. The wife and I are looking forward to it.”
“And what about you, Jenny? Are you looking forward to it?”
Distracted by the way the sun’s rays tinted the auburn in his hair to a fiery red, she startled at his words.
He turned so his back faced her relatives, blocking her view of them. Su-Lin’s hands flexed; she slanted a gaze at the tablecloth fluttering over the tight black jeans he wore, the snow-white linen caressing his bunched thigh muscles. She wondered if the pulse shattering every thought in her brain beat loud enough for him to hear.
“Yes.”
“Sir, you’re ready to order?”
“About time. Three of your biggest, juiciest hamburgers and double portions of french fries. What will you have, Terry?”
Su-Lin sucked in her breath as she felt his gaze on her.
“Ditto. Add a Heineken to the order, will you? Jenny, would you like something more substantial than that glass of water?”
She shot a surreptitious glance at Aunt Emma, and her shoulders slumped at the woman’s pinched features. When her aunt had found her having a glass of wine at the hotel’s bar last night, she had made more than one remark about young women drinking alcohol.
“James, Emma!” came the shouted greeting from across the restaurant.
Su-Lin didn’t recognize the couple coming toward them, but then again, six weeks ago she hadn’t known of her relatives’ existence, far less their friends’. The noonday sun outlined the couple, and even shading her eyes, she could only make out their silhouette.
Aunt Emma’s lips spread into an unaccustomed smile, baring a chipped canine and two rows of ivory-rimmed yellow around the perimeters. She stood up, hands outstretched.
Tanned to a shade darker than a Brazil nut, the woman approaching appeared all angles and planes, her small head perched on a long neck and an even-longer torso and legs. She looked like a cutout body with a mismatched face. Su-Lin stifled a giggle, but a peep of sound escaped.
Terrence, in the middle of rising to his feet, swept her a glance.
Guilt at her unkind thoughts washed over her, and she clamped her lips together.
When Aunt Emma made the introductions, Su-Lin remained seated. She muttered hello even though she hadn’t caught the couple’s names.
After shaking hands with the man and woman, Terrence slouched into the overstuffed wicker chair, shifting it closer to Su-Lin’s. The slight grate of wood on concrete went unnoticed.
“Aren’t you itching to try out another head on that body?” he whispered into her ear, his warm, smoky breath fanning her neck. “One more birdlike?”
A surprised smile twitched her lips upward, and she slid sideways on the cushioned seat to fully face him. And just like that the world faded away, and she drowned in those gray lagoons, tumbling into an Alice in Wonderland parallel reality.
His hand slid along the wooden back of her chair, and one finger trailed her shoulder blade. “I need to kiss you, darlin’. Go visit the powder room. I’ll be there in a second.”
Amid a stream of introductions, vacuous chatter, and drink orders, Su-Lin tried to decipher if she’d really heard those words, if this god of a man actually wanted to kiss
her
. She couldn’t focus, couldn’t follow the conversation, and her eyes couldn’t leave his face, his mouth.
As he settled back into the chair, he said, “I’ll go first.”
She watched as he threw his napkin on the table, white on white, thick fingers brown against the fabric, and followed his tight butt and warrior shoulders as he stalked to an alcove across the room. When he turned around under the shadowed arch and crooked a finger, she rose to her feet, muttered an excuse, and headed in his direction.
He’d disappeared by the time she reached the arch and uncertainty tangled her feet, making her stumble. Su-Lin rested a palm on a faux-aged oak door to prevent a fall.
It whipped open.
She gasped.
Terrence curled an arm around her, lifted her off her feet, and whirled about so his broad back held the door shut.
One hand tipped her chin up.
She blinked.
Her mouth went dry.
Excitement and fear crested and fell, climbing higher as their locked gaze strained over tens of seconds.
“We can hook up tonight, darlin’. But I need something to tide me over.”
His voice sounded gruff, clipped, as if words proved an effort.
Su-Lin’s knees buckled and the arm circling her waist firmed, curving her into his body.
His tongue lapped at the seam of her mouth. It felt so delicious and mysterious and magical. She went slack in his hold, eyes closing, senses racing to where his tongue made contact, savoring the way blood raced to each touch of his mouth against her wet lips.
“Open,” he ordered, and she smelled smoke and oak and salt and sea.
She obeyed, the submissive female part of her craving his domination. His tongue slid in and out of her mouth, tangling with hers, tickling a heady sensation on the roof. Her hands fisted his shirt and she wanted to be horizontal, feel the weight of him on her, rub against the hardness grinding into the V of her torso.
“Is anyone in there?”
A burst of knuckles rapping against wood seeped in small increments at the edges of Su-Lin’s mind. His lips left hers, he murmured something, and the feather touch of his mouth over his words flamed her body. She didn’t want this to stop. Her fingers crimped the soft linen covering his chest.
“Jaysus.” He tugged her tight to his pectorals, and one warm hand slipped under Su-Lin’s blouse to stroke the small of her back. “Answer the fricking woman, darlin’. Say you’ll be a few minutes.”
Voice shaky and wavery, Su-Lin did as he commanded.
All at once, she realized what would happen when the door opened, and she couldn’t prevent a slight groan. “Oh no. My aunt, my uncle, if they knew…”
Chucking her chin, he met her gaze and muttered, “I’ll take care of it. They won’t know. Where are your parents, Jenny? Why are you with your relatives?”
The questions slid like a glacier through her soul, filling crevices with a familiar dread, one she’d lived with all her life. Gymnastic training stiffened her spine, and she concentrated on the next second, the next surprise, the next obstacle. “My parents are dead. This trip is my graduation present, and my uncle and aunt are my only relatives. I don’t know them very well, but my aunt will disapprove, I know it.”
His thumb stroked the frown between her eyebrows. “I said I’ll take care of it, and I will. Now, I’ll go out first, and if the road is clear, I’ll knock once on the door. Wait a few seconds and then make your way to the table. Got it?”
He balanced her chin on the tip of his forefinger forcing Su-Lin to meet his eyes.
“Yes.”
“I’ll be at the cocktail reception tonight. We’ll finish this later.”
Finish?
He set her away from him, his hand lingering under the curve of her breast. “We have three weeks together on the cruise, darlin’, and you’re in the cabin next to mine.”
Su-Lin stood staring at the closed door after he’d left. She pinched her forearm hard, felt the sharp pain, waited for the skin to color a dusky rose, and still didn’t believe the events of the last few minutes had actually occurred.
The reflection in the mirror above the marble sink told a different tale. Lips swollen and red, her slanted jade eyes glazed, her taut nipples poking against the sheer black top broadcast her arousal. Each touch, each scrape against the material made her nipples burn a notch higher.
She splashed water against her hot cheeks, dried her skin, and held her breath when she heard the slight graze of knuckles on wood, Terrence’s signal. She opened the door, letting oxygen out in a whoosh when the alcove proved empty. In a studious attempt to regain control, Su-Lin focused on the smooth turquoise surface of the sea and a majestic white sail billowing above a sleek navy boat.
Terrence stood when she reached the table and slid her chair away from its edge. She sat. He nudged her back into position, and her knees and thighs slipped under the white tablecloth.
His hand curled around one leg about two inches above her bent knee and Su-Lin almost flew out of her chair. He must have felt her muscles tensing, for he gave a soft chuckle and rubbed a slow, rhythmic circle right there. Heat flooded her veins and a slight sheen of perspiration broke out on her forehead. She gulped down the entire glass of water.
Conversation subsided as the waiter appeared with a busboy in tow.
A sensual fog mobbed her brain and warped the twenty minutes that followed.
Her uncle and aunt and their friends chatted and laughed.
Aware of only the man at her side, his hand caressing her thigh, Su-Lin became oblivious to her surroundings. Even the bloody meat on her plate didn’t faze her. Bemused, she followed his one-handed consumption of the hamburger and fries, his every movement fluid with the grace of a powerful man comfortable in his own skin.
“You’re not eating,” he said, and his thumb punctuated the statement with a soft press on her leg. “Shall I feed you? My lips to yours?”
“Oh,” she gasped and checked right away to see if anyone had noticed, but her relatives and their friends proved unmindful of the two of them. Sending him a sideways glance, Su-Lin picked up a french fry and nibbled on the crisp potato.