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Mike slid into the front seat while Dirk and Rafe got into the back. Patrick pulled away from the curb into traffic, saying, “Everything go okay?”
Dirk’s thoughts flew to his discussion with Mei-li last night. He didn’t really suspect Patrick of being involved in the kidnapping, but...he couldn’t be sure. It’s a hell of a world where you have to suspect everyone, he mused sadly. But all he said was, “Good to go.”
No one said anything more on the drive back. Dirk stared silently out the window at the passing scenery—metal and glass monoliths juxtaposed with older concrete buildings just this side of shabby, throngs of people walking purposefully along the sidewalks—no one in Hong Kong ever seemed to meander—or queuing up for the buses. But he wasn’t really seeing them. Instead he was seeing Mei-li’s face last night in his mind’s eye—nearly as excited as he’d been by the proof his daughters were alive...at least, right up until the photo was taken.
Which maybe accounted for what he’d done next—pull Mei-li into his grateful embrace. Wrap his arms around her in a crushing hug she returned, as if she understood his sudden need to hold on to something. Then...having gone that far...he had gone right over the edge and kissed her. Endlessly.
He told himself now that maybe he could have drawn back like the gentleman he’d always tried so hard to be...if she’d resisted. But she hadn’t. She’d given him back kiss for kiss, passion flaring between them the same way it had in the kitchen. He’d been that close—that close—to taking her right there on the sofa in the living room. But some shred of sanity had remained. Some shred of decency.
When he’d finally raised his lips from Mei-li’s, her eyes had been glazed with desire. Her breasts—which he’d somehow managed to caress, even though he could have sworn not even a slip of paper could have fit between them—were so aroused the slightest touch had set her shivering. And her lips had been swollen and red—without a trace of the lip gloss she’d reapplied after dinner.
He’d wanted. Needed. Even now, just thinking about making love to Mei-li had him hard and aching, and oh so ready. But when he’d looked down into her rosy face last night, alight with the same yearning he felt, he’d clamped down on his desire. It’s always difficult for me to maintain an emotional distance from my clients, she’d told him only that morning, and he’d known without a doubt it was true. Because of that, he’d also known he couldn’t take advantage of her emotional high. Couldn’t blur the lines.
At least...that’s what he told himself last night. It had taken every bit of strength he could muster to brush his fingers against her cheek, to tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, to rub his thumb against her swollen bottom lip...and then stop. He hadn’t wanted to. But he’d done it—he’d been a gentleman. And being a gentleman, he’d taken all the blame on himself, apologizing in a voice made husky with repressed desire and asking her forgiveness...even though he’d known deep down it was a lie—he wasn’t sorry. He would never be sorry. He couldn’t be—she’d brought him back to life. And she’d taught him things about himself he’d never realized before.
Mei-li had surprised him then—she was always surprising him, so maybe he should have expected it. “There’s nothing to forgive,” she’d told him with a faint smile. Then she’d picked up her purse and looped the strap over her shoulder before walking to the door. She’d turned at the last minute, her hand on the doorknob, and added, “Except for stopping. But I’m not sure I’m ready to forgive you for stopping. I’ll have to think about it.” Her voice was light, musical and held just a trace of humor that somehow defused the situation. “Good night, Dirk. I’ll bring the brown wrapping paper and shopping bags for the four packages you need to prepare tomorrow—I have plenty, so you don’t need to worry about coming up with them.” Without missing a beat she’d said, “You’d better get some sleep.” Her faint smile had expanded ever so slightly, and her voice had dropped a notch. “Sweet dreams, tim sum. I’ll see you in the morning.” Then she’d left.
Funny thing was, his sleep had been restful...when he’d finally slept. He’d spared five minutes to call Hannah and bring her up-to-date as much as he could, given Mei-li’s suggestion that Hannah might be involved and his own strong belief that she wasn’t. Then he’d fallen into bed. And his dreams had been sweet. He’d lain in bed in the darkness for a few moments, wondering what tim sum meant. Wondering why he’d been so drawn to Mei-li so quickly, why it seemed as if he’d always known her. Wondering about the kiss—the kisses—they’d shared, and what they might mean for the future...if he had a future. If he dared think of anything beyond tomorrow.
