Donovans 02 - Jade Island

Seattle how Pacific Rim cooking should be done. They opened the Rain Lotus two months ago.”
    “I should have guessed,” Lianne said, seeing for the first time the discreet card indicating which restaurant haddonated the table of food. “I’ve been trying to get into that place since I heard about it. They’re booked solid for the next six months.”
    “How about tonight after the auction?” Kyle asked. “Or were you planning on staying for the dance?”
    “No, I wasn’t, and what about tonight?”
    “A late supper for two at the Rain Lotus.”
    Lianne simply stared at him. “You’re kidding.”
    “Nope. All part of the stuffed-elephant escort service.”
    “I’d love any kind of supper at the Rain Lotus—early, late, or middle.”
    He smiled at her eagerness. Whoever said that the way to a woman’s heart was a diamond bracelet hadn’t met Lianne. Maybe he could feed her until she begged for mercy, and then he could quiz her on the Tang family and the Jade Emperor’s stolen art.
    “It’s a deal,” Kyle said. “I take you to supper and you tell me what you’ve heard about the Jade Emperor.”
    She shook her head. “Not you, too.”
    “Me what?”
    “Part of the Jade Emperor craze.”
    “Why should I be immune to the hottest jade rumors since Chiang Kai-shek creamed mainland China’s treasures on the way to Taiwan?”
    “Unlike Chiang Kai-shek, there’s no proof that the Jade Emperor ever existed, much less that he had a tomb filled with jade from all previous eras of Chinese history,” Lianne pointed out.
    As she spoke, she filled her plate with an anticipation and hunger she didn’t bother to conceal. Idly Kyle wondered if she approached sex that way—directly, openly. When she tucked a bit of crab between her lips, then licked her fingertips, his curiosity took on a more urgent edge.
    “Assume the Jade Emperor existed,” Kyle said, turning away and filling his own plate at random. Anything that came from Mei O’Toole’s kitchen was fine with him. “And assume his grave was found.”
    “When?” Lianne said, chewing and swallowing quickly. “Before or after Mao?”
    “Does it matter?”
    “If the goods left mainland China before Mao, the problem of rightful ownership is sticky but not insurmountable.”
    “Like your fingers?”
    Caught with her tongue in mid-lick, Lianne managed to look both guilty and defiant. “There aren’t any chopsticks, and the toothpicks are too slippery.”
    Kyle laughed and wished he knew Lianne well enough to lick those elegant, saucy fingertips himself. “But provenance is insurmountable after Mao?” he asked, watching her closely.
    She nodded, hesitated, then calmly finished licking hoisin sauce from the side of her finger before she put another hors d’oeuvre in her mouth. Slowly her eyes closed while the flavors and textures melted through her.
    “Unbelievable,” Lianne said, and reached for another sliver of duck in a tiny nest of shredded raw vegetables. The second bite was even better than the first. She savored it as she reached for a third tidbit. “Addictive.”
    Kyle forced himself to look away from her intriguing sensual pleasure. “Why are things stickier after Mao?” he asked after a moment.
    “Because it became illegal to export anything more than fifty or a hundred years old from China. Except people,” Lianne added wryly. “They aren’t considered cultural treasures.”
    “Since when has provenance become such a problem for collectors? An avid collector is the last one to look a gift horse in the mouth.”
    “Of course. But when the U.S. and China started to do the trade dance, provenance became a hot-button topic. You can still buy, sell, and own anything your morals are comfortable with; you just can’t display black market goods publicly anymore.”
    Kyle wondered where Lianne drew the line on collectorsand ethics, but he didn’t ask. That would have been as rash as sucking sauce off her fingers.
    A large group of Japanese men approached the buffet tables. Despite the clots of people standing around the food, the men proceeded to go through the buffet as though no one else was in the room. There was nothing intentionally rude in their actions. They were simply accustomed to being at the top of the cultural pecking order.
    “Good thing we filled our plates,” Kyle said, guiding Lianne away from the sudden crowd. “So when was the Jade Emperor’s Tomb found?”
    “Who said it was found at all?”
    “Lots