Donovans 02 - Jade Island

introduced to them. Johnny’s sons, along with cousins of various degrees, were debating the uses of corruption on mainland China, the relative worth of political contributions in America as opposed to outright bribes in Hong Kong, and the merits of Chinese versus American or Canadian banks.
    “What’s that all about?” Kyle asked, gesturing toward three particularly passionate debaters.
    “The young man on the left is trying to convince his uncle to put more money into mainland Chinese banks in order to win favors in bidding for construction jobs or import permits.”
    Kyle was familiar with the argument. The Donovan clan tended to divide along age lines when it came to international finance. “What does his uncle have to say about it?”
    “He doesn’t want to leave any money hostage to the next political turnaround on the mainland,” Lianne said. “He would rather buy a few key bureaucrats outright and get favorable treatment that way.”
    “The nephew is a lot louder.”
    “That’s because he’s losing and he knows it. The older the man, the more experience he has with China’s always unpredictable, sometimes self-destructive politics.”
    “Once burned, twice shy?”
    “If you’ve only been burned once, you haven’t been doing business in China very long.”
    The buffet was enough to make a hungry man salivate,but Kyle was the only man there. The other males were all being served food wherever they sat or stood.
    “Bet I lose face by serving myself,” Kyle said indifferently, reaching for a plate.
    Quickly Lianne took the plate from him. “I should have thought of that. I’ll serve you.”
    Casually he looked around the room, not missing any detail of the interaction between the men and the young women. He turned back to the buffet and took another plate for himself. “Thanks, but I’ll serve myself. I haven’t hired you for this night or any other.”
    Though red flared on Lianne’s cheeks, she spoke without emotion in her voice. “The customs in Asia and America are quite different.”
    “Some are the same.”
    “Please, I don’t mind serving you.”
    “If we really were in America, instead of in Hong Kong East,” Kyle said, helping himself to a mound of garlic chicken, “who served whom would be a matter of convenience, not sexual politics and individual face. But we’re in a different place.”
    “That’s why I should—”
    “If I serve myself tonight,” he continued, gently ignoring Lianne’s attempt to talk, “it’s no skin off my, um, face. If you serve me, it says something about you that I’d deck a man for saying out loud.”
    “You’re—”
    “Very American,” Kyle interrupted. “We settled that earlier. Want some garlic chicken, if only in self-defense?”
    “Yes,” she said quietly. An odd feeling expanded through her, both gratitude and something more. Something hungry. She touched Kyle’s wrist, taking a very female pleasure in his heat and leashed strength. “Thank you for understanding what very few people would have.”
    “No thanks needed,” he said, piling chicken on her plate. “All part of being a stuffed elephant.”
    “I think it has more to do with being American, and male. And…good.”
    The husky hesitation of Lianne’s voice made Kyle want to put down the plates and take a loving bite out of her. Instead, he gave her a lazy kind of smile that had nothing to do with being good.
    Breath filled her throat and yearning emptied her mind. She realized it would be very, very good to lose herself in passion with Kyle Donovan. No more fear, no more worry, no more Jade Emperor looming like death on her personal horizon.
    “Kyle…?”
    “Any time,” he said, watching her. “And if you keep looking at me like that, the time will be now.”
    Startled, Lianne looked from Kyle’s mouth to his eyes. It was a mistake. She could see herself too clearly in them. She could see other things, too. The two of them naked, her hands clenching on his biceps as he lifted her and slid into her, filling her until pleasure overflowed.
    Harsh words cut across her fantasy. Johnny Jr. was arguing in Cantonese with his younger brother, saying that he would have to wait a few more years before their father would approve of any marriage at all, much less one to a foreign ghost. Better that they do as their father had—marry Chinese and go whoring in whatever cultures and races tickled their cocks.
    “Hey,” Kyle said, smiling despite the sexual heat