by Fran Baker
“I'll brew another pot of tea.” Sally rose to reheat the kettle and measure dark, fragrant leaves into a china teaball.
Moon-washed memories surged over Anne like a sensuous tide, and the drumbeat throb at her temples echoed his name. There was no way to extinguish the living flame of desire that Kai had ignited inside her. In time, perhaps, the fire would consume itself. There was no way to erase the seductive words he had whispered against the silken peaks and shady valleys of her body; in time, perhaps, his voice would dim. She had tasted the nectar of passion, eagerly grasping its ecstasy so that, in time, she could face the certain agony of separation.
Anne shook her head. It didn’t make sense to let her mind wander in this dead-end direction because Kai was married and she was firmly committed to her career. It was better to think of their strong physical attraction as dynamite—a short fuse, a big explosion and perilous at close range.
The cheery whistle of the copper kettle interrupted the quiet moment. As Sally refilled Anne’s cup she announced that she was going out to run some errands. “Put your feet up and be lazy—if you still remember how,” she ordered with mock sternness. “I’ll only be gone for an hour or so. Can you think of anything you want me to pick up while I’m out?”
“A new wardrobe.” Anne’s reply was a strained attempt at levity. “The Manchu Mangler not only wrecked my apartment, he also slashed most of my clothes.” She shuddered.
“Dick told me all about it,” Sally said in a soothing voice. “He talked to New York this morning and UNA wants you to replace everything at their expense. If you’d like, we can start shopping tomorrow. I’d love to help you spend their blank check.”
Anne smiled. “And I’d love to have you help me,” she said.
After Sally left Anne enjoyed a leisurely bath in a steaming tub scented with her favorite jasmine oil. She dried herself on one of the fluffy, oversize towels Sally had laid out, then stretched out in bed again to think about her options for the rest of the day. The warm bath had relaxed her and she dozed, oblivious to the noise of the morning traffic outside her window.
“Anne! Anne, wake up!” Dick shook her as he and Sally bent over her with concerned expressions. “You must have been having a nightmare.”
Anne forced her eyes open. Her skin felt clammy and her hands were clenched in tight fists.
“You kept repeating a word. It sounded like Ki.” Sally’s brow was furrowed as she tried to solve the puzzle of Anne’s nightmare. “Is this Ki an acquaintance of yours, someone you’re afraid of, perhaps?”
“Who knows?” Anne shrugged, but she was on guard against a slip of the tongue. “Everything is just so jumbled in my mind. It's really wild. But I suppose it has something to do with the way I dread returning to that mess in my apartment.”
“Well, you’re not going back there—at least not this week,” Sally asserted. “It's all arranged. You’re going to stay with us and Dick will hire someone to clean up the worst of it.”
Dick added that he had already arranged for her to take a week of vacation and that everything was under control at the office. Anne started to protest, but he was adamant. “You’ve had a terrible shock,” he said. “We want you to take advantage of us; we’re your friends. And you shouldn’t be alone at a time like this.”
“Besides, I'm looking forward to your company.” There was a wistful note in Sally’s admission. “It's been kind of lonesome around here since our youngest daughter married last spring. I thought we’d shop for your new clothes, have lunch out and just enjoy your free time.”
Anne blinked away the tears of gratitude that misted her eyes. “All right, you’ve convinced me. I can’t fight both of you.” She laughed. “Looks like you’re stuck with a house guest.”
After a delicious shrimp salad lunch, Dick returned to the office. Anne had extracted his promise to check her desk and bring home anything that might smack of importance. She spent the afternoon curled up with a novel she had been wanting to read, unwinding gradually but completely.
By ten o’clock the next morning Anne and Sally were in the dressing room of a shop on Des Voeux Road debating whether a daffodil yellow linen dress or the ecru silk suit would be the best buy.
“Take them both,” Sally urged with a grin. “That will teach UNA to harp at their reporters about the ‘image’ they want them to project.” She shook her head in despair. “I only wish Dick would take the hint and spruce up a bit, too. Those suits he’s determined to wear until the seams disintegrate date back to his Washington, D.C. days”
Hours later they struggled up the steps to the Tabors’ front porch, laden with sacks and boxes. Dick met them, rolling his eyes skyward and muttering farewell to his Christmas bonus as he stooped to retrieve a package that slipped from Anne’s arms.
The all-day shopping spree revived Anne’s spirits. After dinner she went to bed with her book and read until she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.
* * * *
Anne climbed down from the borrowed stepladder, paintbrush in hand, and inspected the living room with a critical eye. Two coats of bristol ivory now concealed the garish red warning, but—she shivered—nothing would ever erase that shocking moment when she had discovered the intrusion. What a jarring finale to the memorable weekend she had spent with Kai.
Kai . . . he didn't know it yet, but she owed him an apology.
After nosing around and checking out a few leads, Dick had presented her with his brief, but thorough, version of the events leading up to the break in.
“Hong Kong's industries were feuding among themselves before you started the exposé,” Dick had informed her while he’d helped her move back into the apartment last night. “The tremendous influx of educated refugees is responsible for an unprecedented boom in investment capital and management skill at low wages.”
“And those statistics that I included in the first article ripped off their Robin Hood masks.” A dart of anger shot through Anne. “The corporations are afraid they'll have to pay these people what they’re worth if it becomes public knowledge!”
“Exactly.” Dick expelled his breath in a sharp sigh as he laid the last carton of Anne’s new clothes on the floor. “The industries have been like kids in a candy shop—scooping up displaced scientists and technicians, then allowing them to work on assembly lines for next to nothing while they pick their brains for trade and manufacturing secrets.”
“Why weren’t they exposed before now?”
“Because most of the press here is rabidly pro-industry. They wouldn’t take a stand against the blatant exploitation because the refugees are easier to ‘control’ if they’re kept in the dark.”
“Do you know yet who was responsible for this?” Anne waved at the red-lettered wall that she had insisted she would paint herself. Her heart thudded erratically in anticipation—or was it dread?
“Sure do.” Dick’s lips thinned in fury as he flexed his fingers, then formed a fist. “Wish I’d been here when it happened.” He threw a harmless punch. “Did you know I boxed when I was in the navy?”
“Dick!” Anne wanted the suspense to end.
“It was some heroin addict who needed a few bucks for a fix.” He shook his head in disgust. “The police picked him up for questioning about a petty theft in the Central District. He was so strung out that he confessed to the theft plus a half-dozen other unsolved crimes, including breaking into your apartment.”
“Who hired him?” There was agony in her whispered question, and she had steeled herself for the worst.
“A character by the name of Feng. He owns two textile mills in Kowloon. Apparently he was beginning to feel a little heat about his employment practices after your article broke and he decided a little scare might convince you to back off the story.”
Kai was innocent! Anne’s heart soared and she was giddy with relief. It was as if a heavy stone had rolled off her chest and she had drawn her first easy breath in nearly a week. Dick had looked slightly askance when s
he had ushered him out of the apartment, but she had assured him she was fine. In truth, she wanted to be alone to let the good news sink in properly.
But her elation had dimmed as she’d tossed in bed last night, wondering how she would ever face Kai. She would have to tell him, of course, that she had suspected him. How would he react? Anne flinched as she imagined Kai’s justified fury, and her body tensed like a bow as she forced herself to stay in bed until the first light of dawn crept through the window.
Today she had painted with a vengeance, trying to control the urge to telephone Kai. What would she say if she reached him? How would she explain jumping the gun and pointing a mental finger at him before she had all of the facts? That lump in her throat was the pride she would swallow when she asked his forgiveness. Things would simply have to run their natural course from that moment on.
Anne’s gaze swept slowly over the clean ivory wall. The physical evidence of that horrible night was gone, a victim of elbow grease and a paintbrush. If only she could banish her jumbled emotions with the same sort of effort! She stared at the wall and wondered—was this the beginning or the end?
Chapter 6
Anne’s cobalt blue dress was a shimmering silk jewel in the blazing noon sun. A tentative smile curved her lips and her chin was tilted at a confident angle, but her feelings were as ambivalent as the architecture in Statue Square.
She couldn’t hear the tourists exclaiming over the curlicued beauty of the Hong Kong Club because her ears were ringing with the apology she was prepared to deliver. She didn’t see the somberly suited officials exiting the rectangular complex that housed City Hall because her gaze was trained on her destination.
Mixed emotions churned inside her as she neared the Jade Garden Restaurant where Kai had suggested they meet when he called her this morning. She hesitated only an instant, smoothing the stray tendrils that had escaped the chignon coiled like a golden knot at her neck, then squaring her shoulders as she entered the fan-cooled dining room. Kai was already seated in a secluded corner, his profile a bronze relief carving in the dim light.
“Hello, stranger.” Anne kept her voice steady, the bantering tone a careful masquerade for her apprehension.
“You stole my greeting.” Kai's welcoming smile erased the fine new lines of strain around his mouth. He folded the sheaf of papers he had been reading and put them in his pocket as he stood to hold her chair.
“I’ve missed you,” she whispered. Anne reached across the table and traced the hard masculine curve of his jawline with her fingertips.
Kai sat motionless, his gaze lingering on her pensive features. “If I had known you were planning a vacation I would have tried to arrange my schedule accordingly.”
Anne tensed, searching his expression for any hint of anger or accusation. She lifted the glass the waiter had set before her and sipped the ice water, stalling for time while she composed herself.
“It wasn’t a vacation in the usual sense of the word,” she finally explained. “And it certainly wasn’t something that I planned.” Anne’s pulse hammered erratically and her lashes smudged her cheeks as she avoided meeting Kai’s sharp glance. “After you dropped me off last Sunday night I went upstairs and found that my apartment had been broken into and ransacked.”
“Why didn’t you call me?” Kai’s furious question echoed like a sudden clap of thunder in the restaurant. He noticed the surprised stares and curious looks from the other diners and immediately lowered his tone. “Were you hurt?”
“No, I’m fine,” she hastened to reassure him. “My boss took me home with him, and that's where I stayed last week.” Anne shook her head impatiently when the waiter asked if she was ready to order.
“Why would anyone want to break into your apartment?” Kai scrutinized her through narrowed ebony eyes.
“It was awful.” She shuddered involuntarily, the ugly scene frozen in her mind. “Everything was either broken or scattered; my clothes were slashed and—and a warning was painted on my wall.” She lifted her chin triumphantly. “But they didn’t find what they were looking for because it was in my desk at the office.”
“The refugee series triggered it.” Kai’s features seemed chiseled from granite.
Anne shifted uneasily in her chair, bracing for the lecture she felt certain would follow. The silence quivered between them, broken finally by another timid inquiry from the waiter.
“I’m really not very hungry,” Anne admitted. She had hoped that the impersonal atmosphere of the restaurant would smooth away the rough edges of her misery. But the constant interruptions and lack of privacy made it difficult to concentrate. “If you’d rather, we could go somewhere else to talk.”
Kai tipped the waiter a generous amount to thank him for his trouble, then held her hand in a warm, firm grip as they walked to the car.
“You haven’t heard the worst part yet.” Once inside the Mercedes’ cool interior Anne turned her face to the window. She stared vacantly at the open-air cobbler shops leading into Shoeshine Alley and a band of shame tightened like a vise around her heart. “I was in such a state of shock that night; nothing seemed to make much sense. After Dick interpreted the warning he asked if I’d received any other warnings. It jogged my memory and—” She broke off then and looked at him, the carefully rehearsed words lodged in her throat.
“And that was when you remembered my demand that you stop working on the exposé before any harm could come your way.” Kai finished her confession in a softly controlled tone. “Quite naturally, you suspected that I was somehow involved in the plot to dissuade you.” The sting of his accurate deduction was somewhat relieved by the understanding smile that creased his face. “Am I correct so far?”
Anne was stunned. At the very least she had expected anger; at the worst, perhaps a bitter farewell. Instead he was treating her suspicions as if they were a perfectly normal reaction. She opened her mouth to apologize, but Kai spoke first.
“Do they know yet who was behind the break in?”
Kai steered the car over to the curb and switched off the ignition.
“A man named Feng,” she answered. “He hired some poor drug addict to ransack my place for the price of a fix.”
“Feng is an infamous troublemaker,” he mused in a voice plated with sarcasm. “He has been a barnacle on the ship of Hong Kong’s industrial progress for many years.” Kai paused and he seemed to be assessing the situation. “The irony of it is that his father was a penniless refugee who used skill and diligence to build a textile empire. Unfortunately, the son failed to inherit the father’s moral courage. Wherever there is graft or corruption, Feng’s thumbprint usually surfaces also.”
“I was so relieved when Dick told me who it was. And ashamed because I hadn’t trusted you.” Anne’s tears blurred her vision. “Can you ever forgive me?”
“Hostility and regret are expensive passions.” Kai’s steel gaze was tempered by his intimate tone. “I prefer to expend my emotions in a more pleasant manner.” His fingers touched her face, then slid gently to her shoulders.
Anne’s pulse accelerated as she met his riveting gaze. Only one matter remained unsettled between them. “If I remember correctly, I asked you to take me to a resettlement center in Kowloon. Will you?”
“Why are you so obsessed with these sharks?” Kai’s eyes blazed like coals. “These people feed on fear, Anne. They lust for power—at any price.”
“Which is exactly why they should be exposed!” Anne pounded a fist on her knee, whether for emphasis or from frustration she wasn’t certain. “That’s the whole reason UNA is doing this series.”
“Honorable intentions always bear a striking resemblance to shark bait,” he scorned, his caustic tone vibrating with throttled fury. “Surely, you’re not naive enough to believe that a few paragraphs in an editorial column will miraculously save the refugees?”
“Stranger things have been known to happen,” she countered. Anne sensed that her pride was being challenged. “And I
do believe that I have an obligation to make others aware of the way these people are being treated.” She tilted her chin defiantly and her eyes sparked with a stubborn light.
“Even to the point of sacrificing your personal safety?’ Kai seized her and held her against the solid wall of his chest, as if to protect her in the fortress of his embrace. “More seasoned veterans than yourself have abandoned this as a hopeless project. Why are you so compelled to pursue it?”
“You don’t realize how hard it is for a female reporter to land an assignment like this, Kai. Most editors want to bury us at a city desk or hand us a ‘safe’ society beat.” Her voice held a note of despair and she was clinging to him without knowing why. “If they scare me into dropping this, then I might as well submit my resignation and get out of the business entirely.”
“You have a perverted sense of motivation.” Kai’s fingers traced the classic angle of Anne’s cheek and her own hands stroked the taut column of his neck. “No byline is worth this danger.”
“Dick took a chance on me and I won’t disappoint him,” she protested. Anne searched his face, struggling to control the passion that his touch always aroused. “He believes I can present an honest account, and I’m going to do everything in my power to do just that.” Anne felt the stimulating heat of Kai’s hands searing her skin through the sheer silk of her dress. “I'm going to the resettlement center.” Her gaze was unwavering, her voice firm with purpose. “With you or without you.”
“If you must remain a target, the least I can do is see to it that you’re a moving one,” Kai scoffed. His features were hardened in resignation. “I'll take you, but you must promise to wait until I’m free to do so.”
“Tomorrow morning? Early?” Anne tipped her head back to rest it on his arm, keenly aware of the way her body molded itself to his solid male shape. An inviting smile played about her lips and her heart skipped in butterfly beats. “I’ll even cook your breakfast first,” she cajoled.
To Anne’s disappointment Kai released her abruptly. As she studied him, it dawned on her that his demeanor and the dark smudges under his eyes were the external symptoms of some inner distress.