by mag
When he had arranged for the room, paying the yuan in advance, he motioned with a jerk of his head for Bethany to follow him up the three flights of stairs.
In spite of her resolve not to utter one word of complaint, Bethany gasped when she entered the room. The bed in the corner was made of slats of wood covered with a straw-filled mattress. There were hooks for clothes on the wall, one chair, and a window without a screen.
"Well," Bethany said, trying to sound hearty, "this isn’t so bad, is it?" She crossed the floor to the bathroom. Inside there was a toilet without a seat, a sink, one towel, and a rusted pipe jutting out of the wall for the shower. Quickly she backed out, not looking at Tiger.
The temperature in the room was stifling. She opened the top button of the Mao jacket and went to sit on the lumpy bed.
"Are you hungry?" Tiger asked.
"A little."
"Do you want to wash up before dinner?"
"No, just my hands. I don't want to wash the color off my face."
Tiger glared at her. "How did you persuade my mother to help you?"
"I'm not sure. I said I wanted to go with you and she understood how I felt; she thought that I should be with you."
"Damn!" He exploded with a string of Chinese words that made Bethany want to shrink back against the wall. Maybe I should have let him do this alone, she thought. Maybe I should have stayed behind. But no, Bethany knew even as she looked around the shabby room that this was where she belonged. Until they found the golden dragon, until this was over, she would stay by Tiger's side.
They found a restaurant around the corner from the hotel. Tiger ordered and when the dishes came Bethany saw that there was something that looked like fried fish, along with a vegetable dish. With it Tiger ordered beer.
"What kind of fish is this?" Bethany asked when she had eaten most of it. "Fried eel."
Chopsticks poised midway between her plate and mouth, Bethany hesitated. "Oh," she said, then took the piece of fish in her mouth and washed it down with a long swallow of beer.
The room had cooled a bit by the time they returned to the hotel. Because there was no shade on the window they undressed in the darkness. Bethany took a short cotton nightgown out of her bag. "I'm going to have a shower," she said. And with an attempt at humor added, "I'll try to use only half of the towel."
When Tiger made no reply she went into the bathroom and closed the door.
The one thin stream of water was cold. Bethany washed with the almost unlatherable soap, scrubbed herself as well as she could, and waited forever for the stream of water to rinse her body. Out of the shower she dried herself and put on the cotton nightgown. When she came out of the room, Tiger went in.
The straw mattress was lumpy, but more comfortable than Bethany would have thought. She pulled the sheet over her and moved back to the wall so that there would be room for Tiger. She felt strangely awkward and suddenly shy. Tiger was angry and she wasn't at all sure how she should handle his anger. She lay very still when the bathroom door opened and he crossed to the bed. He stood looking down at her for a moment, then without a word lay down beside her.
Bethany lay on her side, facing him. Tentatively she reached her hand out and touched his hip. He didn't move.
"Tiger?"
"Yes?"
"Are you sleepy?"
"No."
She took her hand away, but when she did Tiger's hand closed on her wrist and he brought it back and placed it on his hip. Slowly, hardly daring to breathe, Bethany began to stroke his thigh. He didn't move. Her hand went to his stomach. Her fingers caressed, stroking delicately up to his chest, curling in the patch of hair, lingering to circle a nipple before they began their downward travel to the flatness of his stomach.
Tiger didn't move or respond. Bethany touched his navel and began to follow the line of hair that led downward. She heard his indrawn breath, hesitated, then continued her descent. She touched him and he groaned, but didn't speak as she continued to caress him. Suddenly Tiger pushed her hand away. Without a word he rose up over her and pulled her into his arms. The heat of his skin burned through the thin material of her gown as he grasped her chin and held her while his mouth ravaged hers. There was no tenderness in him now, only passion and hunger. He bit the corners of her lips, taking her lower lip between his teeth to suckle and bite before he plunged his tongue into her mouth to engage her in a silken duel.
Breathlessly Bethany tried to break away from the arms that held her, but Tiger pushed her back against the straw. By the faint light in the room she saw his green eyes, tiger's eyes.
"Darling..." she began, but he stopped her words with a desperate kiss.
He pulled her gown over her head, he tossed it aside and his body covered hers, then his lips, warmed by passion, traveled to her ear. He bit the lobe and when Bethany cried out he soothed it with his tongue, circling to the curved inner part of her ear until she moaned with desire. The moan inflamed him and he moved quickly to capture a peaked blossom of her breast, and took it between his teeth, tugging and lapping and teasing until Bethany cried out again and tried to break free. When she did Tiger grasped both her wrists. He held them above her head and gazed down at her through eyes narrowed by passion. His mouth found hers again, ground against it so that she could feel his teeth against her lips before her lips parted to receive his tongue.
He took her breasts again, took them until she cried out, "No more! Tiger please... no more!" But when she tried to squirm from his grasp, he forced her closer to his hungry mouth.
Bethany had never known such anguished ecstasy. She couldn't bear it. Her body was on fire, begging for release. Incoherent sounds came from her lips to beg him to stop. But even as she begged she thrust her breasts upward to the mouth that so sweetly consumed them.
Suddenly Tiger released her. Frantically he parted her legs and thrust himself into her. With passion and anger he moved against her, holding her, covering her, possessing her as thrust followed angry thrust.
Bethany could no longer distinguish between the real and the unreal. A mixture of fear and desire overwhelmed her as she lifted her body to Tiger's. Her arms encircled his neck, her fingers dug into the flesh of his shoulders. With a groan his mouth found hers, demanding the response she willingly gave. His hands went around her back to raise her body to his as he plunged deeper and ever deeper into her feminine softness.
Whispers of frenzied joy burst from Bethany's lips as she clung to Tiger. This was the reality, this basic truth of male and female joined together in a passion as old as time. "Tiger—"
Again he silenced her with a kiss. It was too much, too long past bearing, as her body shattered into a thousand tiny pieces of luminescent fire.
Tiger's hands tightened, his body erupted in a frenzy of excitement that carried her further and further, again and again, up and up, until spent, she drifted down into his arms.
Tiger held her close to him, so close that she could feel the terrible thud of his heart against her ribs. His face rested against her throat, half covered by the cloud of her fair hair.
He kissed her shoulder and his breath was warm against her skin. "Will I ever get enough of you?" he asked in a hoarse voice. "Will I ever have all I want of your softness and your passion?" He raised himself and looked into her gray eyes. "There are times when I don't understand you," he said. "Times, like today, when I want to try to make you behave like a proper Chinese woman. Then I look at you, at who you are, and I know that I love you as you are. That I will always love you. Bethany, my fair Bethany."
For a long time after that neither of them spoke. At last Tiger began to move away from her, but when he did, Bethany said, "No, Tiger, stay." She kissed the top of his head. "Stay," she repeated, and held him until he slept.
Chapter 13
When Tiger awoke the next morning he stretched to ease the muscles that ached from lying too long in one position on the straw mattress. Then he looked at Bethany, curled up beside him. Her cheeks were rosy, h
er lips still swollen from the kisses of the night before. He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear and gently kissed her cheek. "Did you sleep well?" he asked.
"Mmm." She snuggled closer. "What time is it?"
"Almost eight."
"What time does the train leave?"
"There is no train to where we're going. I will have to arrange other transportation. It will be a long, uncomfortable trip, Bethany, because I want to travel by a circuitous route in case anyone is trying to follow us." He drew her closer. "In this moment I'm happy that you're beside me, but I wish you hadn't come."
"I wish you weren't angry."
"I'm not now, but I was yesterday. I was so furious when I saw you on the train in that ridiculous hat that I wanted to throttle you." He pulled back the sheet that half covered her. "I was still furious with you last night, and at myself for wanting to make love to you." He kissed her temple and in a low voice asked, "I was too rough, Bethany. Did I hurt you last night?"
"No." She felt hot color creep to her cheeks and tried to cover herself. But not before Tiger saw a faint bruise on the delicate skin of her wrist.
"I did hurt you," he said. "Can you forgive me?"
"It wasn't your fault, Tiger. I don't blame you for being angry. But please, don't be sorry that I came. I promise you that I'll do whatever you say. I won't argue when you tell me to do something and I won't complain. Just don't... please don't send me back."
"I have known very few American women," Tiger said musingly. "Mostly I have known Chinese or European women. You are different. You are so feminine one moment, so strongly determined the next. It's hard for me to understand you, to know how to behave with you."
"I thought men were intrigued by a little mystery," Bethany said with a smile.
Tiger looked down at her, half annoyed, half amused. "I am intrigued by you." He kissed her. "By these lips that are swollen from my kisses. By these breasts that quiver at my touch. As I am intrigued by your softness and your bravery and by the fact that I only need look at you and I want you."
Bethany came to him then, willingly, meltingly, lifting her body eagerly to his when he entered her, matching the rhythm of his movements with sharp little cries of pleasure. She clung to him when together they reached the summit and told him how much she loved him.
For that time together they were able to forget the danger that lay ahead of them.
Later, after they had washed and dressed, Tiger spread a map out on the bed. "We want to go to Nanjing," he said. "From there we will take a boat up the Yangtze River to Chungtai."
"Isn't there a train going to Nanjing?"
Tiger shook his head. "No, from here we will go to Wenzhou, then Chinhai by single track railroad. From there we will find transport to Hangzhou and on to Nanjing and Chungtai."
"It sounds arduous." Bethany paused, holding the sponge with which she'd been applying dark makeup to her face. "And interesting."
"It very well may be." Tiger watched as she put the sponge down and began doing her eyes. With a slight smile he said, "Your friends back in Tiffin, Ohio, should see you now."
Tiffin, Ohio. Bethany paused as she looked at herself in the mirror. It would be hot in Tiffin now. The corn would be tall... "Knee-high by the Fourth of July," her grandfather used to say. The beefsteak tomatoes would be red-ripe and better than any tomato in the world. Plums that her mother had used for plum dumplings would hang heavy on the tree in the backyard. But there'd be nobody to pick the plums this year, nobody ever again to make plum dumplings. Or potato salad and fried chicken for Sunday picnics at the lake, or... Bethany looked away from the image in the mirror and tried to hold back the tears that welled in her eyes.
"What is it?" Tiger asked, coming swiftly to her side.
"I...I was thinking about my mother. About home. It seems so far away this morning."
He rested his hands on her shoulders as he looked around the ugly room. "This must all seem strange to you." He leaned down and put his face close to hers and looking at their double image in the mirror said, "/ must seem strange to you. We are very different, Bethany. The tint on your face, the pencil marks that seem to slant your eyes do not change who you are. You are West, I am East. Nothing we do will change that."
"Tiger..."
He shook his head, then straightened. "Let's have breakfast now, then I'll go to see about transportation." He watched as Bethany pulled her fair hair back off her face and bound it with a scarf. Next she would put on the Chinese clothes his mother had given her, then the coolie hat. But neither the clothes nor the hat would change who Bethany was—a woman from a world where he did not belong.
After they had breakfasted on sweet steamed buns and green tea, Tiger took Bethany back to the room. "I will return as soon as I can," he told her. "Don't leave the room and don't allow anyone to enter."
"I won't." She raised her face for his kiss.
When Tiger left he said, "Lock the door," and waited until she had. Bethany leaned against the door for a moment, then went to stand by the window and look down at the street. She watched Tiger leave the hotel and cross to the small park where several people were doing t'ai chi exercises. Tiger was dressed in a plain dark suit and well-worn shoes, but even so, there was something about him, his height, the way he carried himself, that set him apart from the other men on the street. Bethany smiled to herself as she watched him, but suddenly her smile froze. A man who had been doing t'ai chi turned to watch Tiger, then quickly slipped away from the others to follow him.
A child darted in front of Tiger. Tiger paused. The man behind him waited, lighted a cigarette, hesitating until Tiger resumed his walk.
Hands clenched tightly to her sides, heart thudding against her ribs, Bethany watched. Her first inclination was to run out and warn Tiger even though he'd told her to stay in the room with the door locked. But dear God, how could she run through the park without drawing attention to herself and to him? She looked at the man following Tiger. Her pulse quickened and she gasped aloud because she was sure, even at this distance, that it was the same man who had assaulted her on the dock in Hong Kong. He must have been following them—she had to warn Tiger.
Without a moment's hesitation Bethany ran out of the room and down the three flights of stairs to the street. Frantically she looked around and when she saw a pedicab she signaled to it, waiting impatiently while the man pedaled over to her. He said something in Chinese and Bethany suddenly remembered that she spoke not a word of that language. She grasped her throat, pointed to her mouth and shook her head. Then she pointed to the street at the far end of the park where she had seen Tiger and the man pursuing him disappear.
With a shrug the driver began to pedal. Bethany tapped his shoulder and with her hands in a revolving motion, indicated that she wanted him to go faster. When he shook his head she held up twenty yuan. The man grunted, then bent his back into his work.
Around the park they went toward the street at the far end. There was no sign of Tiger or of the man who followed him as the cab turned into the street. Where were they? Bethany thought frantically as the pedicab continued through an intersection. Then suddenly, ahead of her she saw the man who was following Tiger. The pedicab drew close to him, passed him. Bethany lowered her head so that the coolie hat covered her face. The street curved. At the end of it she saw Tiger. His pace wasn't hurried. He walked as though out for a morning stroll. When the pedicab drew abreast of him Bethany tapped the driver on the shoulder and motioned for him to slow down.
Tiger glanced up, away, then swung his startled gaze back to Bethany.
"Get in," she whispered. "There's a man following you."
Tiger's face tightened with anger but he got into the cab. "Damn it," he said under his breath. "I told you to stay in the room."
"But he was following you, the same man, the man from the dock, from Tsingyun."
"I bloody well knew he was following me," Tiger exploded. "I purposely led him down here so that I could confront him." His ey
es were sea-green fury. "A few hours ago you promised me you'd do what what I told you to do."
"But—"
"No buts! You've disobeyed me again. And the worst of it is that now he knows you're traveling with me."
Bethany looked behind her. The man who had been following Tiger broke into a run. "Can't we go any fester?" she asked nervously as the pedicab turned a corner onto an unpaved street.
Not bothering to answer, Tiger tapped the driver's shoulder and thrust some money into his hands. The pedicab stopped. Tiger jumped from the cab. "Come on," he barked to Bethany as he grabbed her and sprinted down the street.
She followed, not daring to look over her shoulder, her mouth dry with fear. Tiger turned into a narrow passageway, drew her in and shoved her behind him. A moment passed. Suddenly he shot his hand out. He grabbed his pursuer by the throat, pulled him into the passageway, and slammed him against the brick wall. With a flick of the wrist the other man pulled a knife, but before he could thrust it forward Tiger yanked his wrist hard. A hiss of pain whistled through the man's teeth and the knife clattered to the street.
Tiger's arm pinioned the man's throat. "Why have you followed us?" he asked in Chinese. "Why did you try to take the woman in Tsingyun?"
"I tell you nothing!" the man gasped.
The pressure on his throat increased. Suddenly Tiger punched hard into the man's midsection.
Bethany flattened herself against the wall, hand to her mouth to keep from crying out.
Tiger struck again, the edge of his hand chopping his opponent between shoulder and neck. The man sagged but Tiger held him upright. "Who is behind this?" he demanded. "Who sent you after us?"
"He will kill me if I tell."
"I'll kill you if you don't." Tiger's hands went around the man's throat. "Tell me!"