dismissive—and defeated. "It's late, James,
and I'm very tired. I'll see you in the morning. Thank you for dinner."
She'd taken only two strides toward the door before she was
stopped. She hadn't sensed his movement, but suddenly he was standing in front
of her, his hands wrapped around her upper arms.
His touch was like his voice, deceptively soft. The lean fingers
that encircled her flesh were gentle but imprisoning, their warmth proof of the
fires of rage banked within.
James knew how tough Maylene was, how determined and controlled.
He saw that determination now, and something else—fear.
This wasn't the way James wanted to learn her secrets. He released
his grip and stepped a less imposing distance away. "I'm sorry.
"No, I'm sorry, James," she whispered, grateful
he wasn't going to push. "I'm not sure what's wrong with me."
James doubted very much that was true. But smiling, he suggested,
"Why don't we chalk it up to jet lag?"
"And too much champagne?"
"And the pleasure and pain of returning to Hong Kong."
Maylene knew there was a fourth conspirator. Every month, with the
reliability of the moon, a hopelessness fell over her, stealing her control,
confusing her emotions, making her feel more precarious than usual. It was, she
supposed, nature's way of making certain she was achingly aware of the womb
that would never bear children conceived in love.
"Friends?" James asked. When she nodded assent, he
added, "And collaborators?"
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I value your opinions—although I do have the final
say."
Maylene smiled at last. "Ah, ha."
"And meaning that even though it's my money, I want the Jade
Palace to be ours."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. And most of all, meaning I need to be able
to trust you to put the hotel ahead of whatever personal feelings you might have."
"Are we talking about professionalism, Mr. Drake?"
"We are indeed, Miss Kwan."
"You're suggesting I have to be nice to all the
Americans?"
The teasing stopped. "It's more than a suggestion, Maylene.
Will you?"
James should have asked "Can you?" not "Will
you?" But Maylene nonetheless told him yes. And, as she said goodnight to
the man who had such surprising faith in her, Maylene allowed herself a
magnificent fantasy.
Everything was within her control. It was simply a matter of
choice. If she wanted to, if she chose, she could be authentically
gracious to Allison and Sam. With that fantasy came a bewitching emotion, the
way it would feel to be free of her anger, her anguish—and her fear.
Five
Sam Coulter's 8:00 a.m. rendezvous with James Drake had been arranged
before Sam left his San Antonio ranch. They'd meet in the Trade Winds lobby,
walk to Drake Towers, and since neither man routinely ate breakfast, would talk
over coffee in James's office.
Although it was only 7:45, Sam was in the lobby, ready for the day
to begin. Today and the ten days until groundbreaking were necessary. But Sam
was eager to put the meetings behind him and start the real work on what would
be the greatest challenge of his career.
He'd always been selective about the buildings he agreed to build.
To his way of thinking, any man-made creation permanently etched on the face of
the planet had to be worthy of claiming space otherwise filled by nature. As a
result of such a philosophy, Sam's early projects were challenges no other builders
would touch. Now he was every developer's first choice.
Sam thrived on challenge. The more complicated the project, the
better. The outcome was never in doubt... until now. The problems posed by the
Jade Palace eclipsed all that had come before. The structure had the potential
to be a monumental triumph—or a monumental disaster. Everything had to be done
exactly right.
As he appraised the lobby of James's other Hong Kong hotel, Sam
realized that what James had promised him was true. No expense would be spared.
He'd be given the best of whatever materials he needed to make the Jade Palace
a masterpiece. James would do
and I'm very tired. I'll see you in the morning. Thank you for dinner."
She'd taken only two strides toward the door before she was
stopped. She hadn't sensed his movement, but suddenly he was standing in front
of her, his hands wrapped around her upper arms.
His touch was like his voice, deceptively soft. The lean fingers
that encircled her flesh were gentle but imprisoning, their warmth proof of the
fires of rage banked within.
James knew how tough Maylene was, how determined and controlled.
He saw that determination now, and something else—fear.
This wasn't the way James wanted to learn her secrets. He released
his grip and stepped a less imposing distance away. "I'm sorry.
"No, I'm sorry, James," she whispered, grateful
he wasn't going to push. "I'm not sure what's wrong with me."
James doubted very much that was true. But smiling, he suggested,
"Why don't we chalk it up to jet lag?"
"And too much champagne?"
"And the pleasure and pain of returning to Hong Kong."
Maylene knew there was a fourth conspirator. Every month, with the
reliability of the moon, a hopelessness fell over her, stealing her control,
confusing her emotions, making her feel more precarious than usual. It was, she
supposed, nature's way of making certain she was achingly aware of the womb
that would never bear children conceived in love.
"Friends?" James asked. When she nodded assent, he
added, "And collaborators?"
"Meaning?"
"Meaning I value your opinions—although I do have the final
say."
Maylene smiled at last. "Ah, ha."
"And meaning that even though it's my money, I want the Jade
Palace to be ours."
"Thank you."
"You're welcome. And most of all, meaning I need to be able
to trust you to put the hotel ahead of whatever personal feelings you might have."
"Are we talking about professionalism, Mr. Drake?"
"We are indeed, Miss Kwan."
"You're suggesting I have to be nice to all the
Americans?"
The teasing stopped. "It's more than a suggestion, Maylene.
Will you?"
James should have asked "Can you?" not "Will
you?" But Maylene nonetheless told him yes. And, as she said goodnight to
the man who had such surprising faith in her, Maylene allowed herself a
magnificent fantasy.
Everything was within her control. It was simply a matter of
choice. If she wanted to, if she chose, she could be authentically
gracious to Allison and Sam. With that fantasy came a bewitching emotion, the
way it would feel to be free of her anger, her anguish—and her fear.
Five
Sam Coulter's 8:00 a.m. rendezvous with James Drake had been arranged
before Sam left his San Antonio ranch. They'd meet in the Trade Winds lobby,
walk to Drake Towers, and since neither man routinely ate breakfast, would talk
over coffee in James's office.
Although it was only 7:45, Sam was in the lobby, ready for the day
to begin. Today and the ten days until groundbreaking were necessary. But Sam
was eager to put the meetings behind him and start the real work on what would
be the greatest challenge of his career.
He'd always been selective about the buildings he agreed to build.
To his way of thinking, any man-made creation permanently etched on the face of
the planet had to be worthy of claiming space otherwise filled by nature. As a
result of such a philosophy, Sam's early projects were challenges no other builders
would touch. Now he was every developer's first choice.
Sam thrived on challenge. The more complicated the project, the
better. The outcome was never in doubt... until now. The problems posed by the
Jade Palace eclipsed all that had come before. The structure had the potential
to be a monumental triumph—or a monumental disaster. Everything had to be done
exactly right.
As he appraised the lobby of James's other Hong Kong hotel, Sam
realized that what James had promised him was true. No expense would be spared.
He'd be given the best of whatever materials he needed to make the Jade Palace
a masterpiece. James would do
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