Raw Silk. Anne Mather
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Chen was nothing if not dedicated in everything she did, and the sinuous little body, clad only in a silk robe, arched against his back, was undeniably tempting. Even though he was dressed, he could feel her pointed little breasts through the thin silk of his shirt.
But unfortunately for Rose Chen Oliver had a strength of will that equalled her own. And he also knew that the Chinese girl wasn’t half as helpless as she liked him to think. Rose Chen could be quite ruthless when it came to business, and he had no doubt at all that she could handle her London relations without any assistance from him.
And that reminded him that he had to stop thinking of her as being wholly Chinese. She wasn’t. She was half English. Amazingly, she had been James Hastings’ daughter. Not his mistress, as his own government had believed, but the illegitimate offspring of a liaison Hastings had had before Oliver had thought of crawling through the stinking jungles of South-east Asia. Which had altered the situation considerably …
‘You’ll make it,’ he assured her now, removing the slim hand which had been attempting to unzip his fly, aware as he did so of the half-hearted arousal she had achieved. Obviously, his body was not as easy to control as his mind, which was some justification for the frustrated cry his action solicited.
‘Don’t you want me?’ she exclaimed, her oval eyes narrowed and appealing, and Oliver wondered, somewhat ruefully, why he’d let it get this far.
But when he’d been recruited by a United States government agency to carry out a surveillance operation on James Hastings he had found a small irony in attracting and seducing the woman he had believed to be the Englishman’s mistress.
Rose Chen had worked with James Hastings. She knew him well. When he had visited the Colony, he had stayed in the same apartment building she did. Not in the same apartment, as Oliver now knew, but that was splitting hairs. The fact remained that James Hastings had treated her rather well, and Rose Chen lived in vastly superior surroundings to those her salary at the import and export company Hastings had run would warrant.
Besides, it had seemed such a satisfactory solution to the problem of getting close enough to James Hastings to find out his comings and goings. No one, least of all the arrogant Englishman, had suspected Oliver of being anything more than the war-weary veteran he appeared. Hong Kong was full of drop-outs from one part of the world or another, and it was true that when Oliver had arrived in the territories he had been nothing more nor less than any of his fellow exiles.
In the beginning he hadn’t much cared about anything or anybody. He was still escaping the horrors of a war that had gone so dreadfully wrong. He didn’t care about the future. He tried not to think about the past. He lived his life from day to day, seeking oblivion with any kind of anaesthetic available.
Of course, his family had expected him to return to the United States when his term of duty was over, but Oliver hadn’t done that. Not then. He couldn’t bear the thought of returning home to Maple Falls, where life was so clean and simple. His mind was still trapped in the jungle, with the poor, pathetic victims of someone else’s conflict.
Ironically enough, it was the army that had eventually rescued him, and restored his self-respect. Or his retired commanding officer, to be precise. Colonel Archibald Lightfoot had swept him off the streets—where he had been living since his severance pay ran out—and installed him in a rehabilitation clinic. And by the time his system had been laundered his mind was clear as well. That was when he had returned to the States—but only for a visit. The colonel had persuaded him he could be some use to him in the territories, and instead of becoming the youngest district attorney in his home state of Virginia he had returned to Hong Kong.
Naturally, his family had been disappointed. His father, once an attorney himself, but now a Supreme Court judge, had expected his eldest son to follow in his footsteps. His younger brothers and sisters were all employed in one aspect of the law or another, all safely married and settled, and a credit to the family. Only Oliver had refused to conform; only Oliver had let them down: first, by volunteering for Vietnam, and then by returning to live in South-east Asia.
These days his family knew better than to criticise his motives. His work for the Hong Kong government, and for the United States agency involved in the control of narcotic substances, had enabled him to amass a fairly substantial bank account, and although his job required him to live in fairly modest surroundings he owned an apartment in Kowloon just as comfortable as Rose Chen’s. He was a valued member of Colonel Lightfoot’s staff, and when he eventually chose to return to the United States he had the necessary contacts to find suitable employment there.
Of course, Rose Chen knew nothing of his involvement with the agency. So far as she was concerned, Oliver lived by his wits, making enough money from so-called ‘deals’ the agency sent his way to enable him to support the lifestyle he maintained. The fact that he seldom discussed his own affairs had convinced her that what he was doing wasn’t exactly legal, a belief he nurtured on every possible occasion. He had wanted Rose, and James Hastings, to think he was corruptible. It suited his purposes very well.
Not that Oliver was thinking of this now as he watched the glittering display of neon that was emerging as the lights were turned on in the tall buildings lower down the hillside and across the water. Darkness gave the city a different kind of energy, an energy that masked the abject poverty found on the streets below.
‘I’m not coming to London,’ he stated flatly, moving out of her embrace. ‘I’ll take you to the airport, but that’s as far as I go.’
Rose Chen’s rose-tinted lips took on a sulky curve. ‘Suntong will take me to the airport,’ she declared shortly, and Oliver inclined his dark head.
‘Of course he will,’ he agreed, acknowledging her new authority over her father’s massively fat chauffeur. ‘So …’ He spread his hands. ‘When are you planning on leaving?’
‘Soon.’
Rose Chen regarded him with dark hostile eyes. The evidence of her frustration was there in every line of her slim, provocative body. Rose Chen generally got what she wanted, and right now she wanted him. Wanted him so badly, in fact, that she had even risked the wrath of her employer.
No, not her employer, Oliver reminded himself yet again. Her father! The father she hadn’t known she’d had until his death in England had necessitated the news to be conveyed to her. It had been there, in his will, all along. As well as the son, who had expected to inherit his father’s company, James Hastings had at last acknowledged the existence of his daughter. Rose Chen was to share everything he had left, including half his assets in London.
‘Please, Lee,’ she begged now, and Oliver realised that, while he had been considering what this new development might mean to his investigation, Rose Chen’s face had undergone another change of expression. ‘Please,’ she said again, ‘change your mind. This is all so new to me. Jay-Jay never even hinted that he might be—that he was my——’ She broke off and wrung her slender hands together. ‘You can’t know what this means to me. If only I’d known …’
Oliver’s sympathies were stirred. He knew, better than anyone, how persuasive Rose Chen could be if she set her mind to it. Images of her naked body entwined with his were all too vivid a memory when she looked at him that way, and in the pearly evening twilight her sexuality was almost irresistible.
‘And what am I supposed to do while you deal with these new relatives of yours?’ he enquired softly, as the obvious reaction Colonel Lightfoot would have to her sudden change of status forced him to reconsider. It was almost certain that the colonel would consider the opportunity for a closer look at the London end of Hastings’ operation too important to miss, and, while Oliver had no real desire to accompany her, the prospect of an expenses-paid trip to England was not unappealing.
Rose Chen’s oval eyes widened. ‘You’ll come?’ She caught her breath and started towards him. ‘Oh, Lee——’
‘I didn’t say that,’ he stalled her, holding up a warning hand. ‘I was just curious to know how you would introduce me. I don’t think your brother will welcome an intruder.’