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At one minute past the hour—just as it had this morning—the phone call cut off with Dirk in midsentence. She quickly slid the grocery bag from her arm and handed it to him, whispering, “There’s a security guard watching us from the corner. When you see me get her out of position, put the bag under here.” She gestured to the spot. “Push it out of sight as far as you can with your foot, then walk away. I’ll catch up.”
* * *
Despite the emotional turmoil caused by another tearful conversation with his daughters, and their pleas that he come get them away from the “bad men,” Dirk couldn’t help but admire Mei-li’s performance. She raised her voice and said, “I don’t care what you think, it can’t have been easy for women living under those conditions.” She flounced off and headed straight for the security guard, then broke into excited and voluble Cantonese. She gestured back at Dirk, who kept his face averted so he couldn’t be recognized. But he watched Mei-li out of the corner of his eye. It didn’t take much to figure out he was the subject of her tirade, and she was inviting the security guard to join her in the universal female lament of “Men!”
After a minute her tone changed, and the upward inflection at the end of her sentence told him she was asking a question. The guard responded, but Mei-li shook her head as if she didn’t get it. Then she asked another question, and the guard started leading Mei-li away, pointing in the other direction and chattering in Cantonese. Mei-li followed without a backward glance.
Quick as a flash, Dirk tucked the bag underneath the food display, then pushed it out of sight with his foot. He wanted to look around, to see if anyone was watching, but he forced himself to walk away. No one called to him to say he’d left something behind. No museum guard chased him. And the kidnapper—wherever he was—would see that Dirk was following his instructions to the letter. Leave and don’t look back...don’t do anything stupid.
He headed for the museum entrance and only got turned around once. But he quickly backtracked and soon found himself right where they’d come in, in front of a large, colorful mural advertising an upcoming special exhibit depicting life in ancient China.
Only a minute later Mei-li appeared. As soon as she reached him, she asked, “Any trouble?”
Dirk shook his head, unutterably relieved everything had gone so smoothly. “No. No trouble at all, thanks to your award-winning performance.” He allowed himself a small grin. “But couldn’t you find something else to complain about besides men?” he teased.
She laughed gently and took his arm, walking toward the exit. “It was that obvious?” she murmured.
“Hell, yeah.”
She laughed again, deep in her throat, and for just a minute Dirk let himself enjoy the sound of her laughter, the teasing light in her eyes, her face. Love is made of intimate little moments like this, he thought, smiling to himself.
Then his smile faded as all at once the realization hit him that his feelings for Mei-li went beyond gratitude. Beyond desire. But he didn’t know what to call it because he refused to call it love. He’d loved once. Lost once. Never again.
And even if he let himself love Mei-li, they could never have a future. Because she didn’t know the darkness in his soul. Didn’t know that God would never let Dirk atone for his sins in this life—that others would always pay the price, the way Bree had.
He could never risk it. Could never risk having any woman love him again. Never.
* * *
Dirk walked from the elevator to his hotel suite with Mei-li at his side. It seemed symbolic—if he let himself think that way. He knew he shouldn’t. He’d already reached that conclusion back at the museum. The problem was, he wanted to. Wanted her. Life would be worth living again if he had Mei-li to share it with. To make him laugh. To make him want. Need. Crave. To make him feel again.
The way she already did.
He came to a complete halt at the sudden revelation. Mei-li had already reached the door of his suite, not noticing he’d stopped. “Should I ring or do you have your key handy?” she asked, turning. Then she realized he was a few paces behind her. “What’s wrong?”
He couldn’t tell her. “Nothing.”
He forced himself to move. Forced himself to ignore the temptation to confess what he was thinking, feeling. Forced himself instead to swipe his electronic key card in the door and let them in. He pushed the door open and held it for Mei-li, then everything else was driven from his mind by the sight of Vanessa and Chet sitting side by side on the living room sofa. Rafe was seated in one of the living room chairs, facing the couple; Mike was across the way, lounging in the chair closest to the piano.
