Noble House

"You have a nice sleeping face," he said.
"Thank you." She moved and rested on one elbow. "You're a strange man. Part devil, part prince, compassionate one minute, ruthless the next. That was a wonderful thing you did for Peter."
He just smiled and waited, his eyes strangely and pleasantly challenging.
"Line's… I think Line's smitten with Orlanda," she said without thinking and saw a shadow go over him.
"Oh?"
"Yes." She waited but he said nothing, just watched her. Pushed by the silence, she added involuntarily, "I think she's smitten with him." Again a long silence. "Quillan, is that part of a plan?"
He laughed softly and she felt his dominance. "Ah, Ciranoush, you're the strange one. I don—"
"Will you call me Casey? Please? Ciranoush is not right."
"But I don't like Casey. May I use Kamalian?"
"Casey."
"What about Ciranoush today, Casey tomorrow, Kamalian for Tuesday dinner? That's when we close the deal. Eh?"
Her guards came up without thinking. "That's up to Line."
"You're not tai-pan of Par-Con?"
"No. No, I'll never be that."
He laughed. Then he said, "Then let's make it Ciranoush today, Casey tomorrow and the hell with Tuesday?"
"All right!" she said, warmed by him.
"Good. Now as to Orlanda and Line," he said, his voice gentle. "That's up to them and I never discuss the affairs of others with others, even a lady. Never. That's not playing the game. If you're asking if I've some devious plot, using her against Line or you and Par-Con, that's ridiculous." Again he smiled. "I've always noticed that ladies manipulate men, not the other way around."
"Dreamer!"
"One question deserves another: Are you and Line lovers?"
"No. Not in the conventional sense, but yes I love him."
"Ah, then are you going to marry?"
"Perhaps." Again she shifted and she saw his eyes move over her. Her hands pulled the blanket closer around her, her heart beating nicely, very conscious of him as she knew he was conscious of her. "But I don't discuss my affairs with another man," she said with a smile. "That's not playing the game either."
Gornt reached out and touched her lightly. "I agree, Ciranoush."
The Sea Witch came out of the breakwater into the harbor waves, Kowloon ahead. She sat up and turned to watch the Island and the Peak, most of it cloud covered. "It's so beautiful."
"The south coast of Hong Kong's grand around Shek-O, Repulse Bay. I've a place at Shek-O. Would you like to see the boat now?"
"Yes, yes I'd like that."
He took her forward first. The cabins were neat, no sign of having been used. Each had shower stalls and a toilet. A small general cabin served them all. "We're rather popular with ladies at the moment because they can shower to their hearts content. The water shortage does have advantages."
"I'll bet," she said, carried along by his joviality.
Aft, separate from the rest of the boat, was the master cabin. Big double bed. Neat, tidy and inviting.
Her heart was sounding loud in her ears now, and when he casually closed the cabin door and put his hand on her waist she did not back off. He came closer. She had never kissed a man with a beard before. Gornt's body was hard against hers and it felt good to her, her breath picking up tempo, his lips firm and cigar tasting. Most of her whispered: Go, let go, and most of her said, No, don't, and all of her felt sensual in his arms, too good.
What about Line?
The question barreled into her mind like never before and all at once her mind cleared and, carried along by his sensuality, she knew for the first time with absolute clarity that it was Line she wanted, not Par-Con or power if that had to be the choice. Yes, it's Line, just Line, and tonight I'll cancel our deal. Tonight I'll offer to cancel.
"Now's not the time," she whispered, her voice throaty.
"What?"
"No, not now. We can't, sorry. " She reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips, talking through the kisses, "Not now, my dear, sorry, but we can't, not now. Tuesday, perhaps Tuesday . . ."
He held her away from him and she saw his dark eyes searching her. She held her gaze as long as she could, then buried her head against his chest and held him tenderly, still enjoying the closeness, sure that she was safe now, and that he was convinced. That was a close one, she thought weakly, her knees feeling strange, all of her pulsating. I was almost gone then and that wouldn't have been good, good for me or Line or him.
It would have been good for him, she thought strangely.
Her heart was pounding as she rested against him, waiting, re-couping, confident in a moment—with warmth and gentleness and the promise of next week—he would say, "Let's go back on deck."
Then all at once she felt his arms tighten around her and before she knew what was happening she was on the bed, his kisses strong and his hands wandering. She began to fight back but he caught her hands expertly and stretched her out with his great strength and lay across her, his loins pinioning her, making her helpless. At leisure he kissed her and his passion and her heat mingled with her fury and fear and want. As much as she struggled, she could not move.
The heat grew. In a moment he shifted his grip. Instantly she swept to the attack, wanting more though now she was preparing to fight seriously. Again his grip on her hands tightened. She felt herself swamped, wanting to be overpowered, not wanting it, his passion strong, loins hard, the bed soft. And then, as abruptly as he had begun, he released her and rolled away with a laugh.
"Let's have a drink!" he said without rancor.
She was gasping for breath. "You bastard!"
"I'm not actually. I'm very legitimate." Gornt propped himself on an elbow, his eyes crinkling. "But you, Ciranoush, you're a liar."
"Go to hell!"
His voice was calm and genially taunting. "I will, soon enough. Far be it for me to ask a lady to prove such a thing."
She threw herself at him, her nails hacking for his face, furious that he was so controlled when she was not. Easily he caught her hands and held her. "Gently gently catchee monkeeee," he said even more genially. "Calm down, Ciranoush. Remember, we're both over twenty-one, I've already seen you almost naked, and if I really wanted to rape you I'm afraid it wouldn't be much of a contest. You could scream bloody murder and my crew wouldn't hear a thing."
"You're a goddamn lou—"
"Stop!" Gornt kept his smile but she stopped, sensing danger. "The tumble was not to frighten, just to amuse," he said gently. "A prank, nothing more. Truly." He released her and she scrambled off the bed, her breathing still heavy.
Angrily she walked over to the mirror and pushed her hair back into place, then saw him in the mirror, still lying casually on the bed watching her, and she whirled, "You're a black-eyed bastard!"
Gornt let out a bellow of laughter, infectious, belly-shaking, and, all at once, seeing the foolishness of it all, she began to laugh too. In a moment they were both aching with laughter, he spread out on the bed and Casey leaning against the sea chest.
On deck, as good friends, they drank some champagne that was already opened in a silver bucket, the silent, obsequious steward serving them, then going away.
At the dock in Kowloon, she kissed him again. "Thanks for a lovely time. Tuesday, if not before!" She went ashore and waved the ship good-bye a long time, then hurried home.
Spectacles Wu was also hurrying home. He was tired and anxious and filled with dread. The way up through the maze of dwellings and hovels in the resettlement area high above Aberdeen was difficult, slippery and dangerous, mud and mess everywhere, and he was breathing hard from the climb. The runoff in the concrete storm drain had overflowed its banks many times in many places, the flood shoving structures aside and spreading more havoc. Smoke hung over many of the wrecked dwellings, some still smoldering from the fires that had spread so quickly when the slides began. He skirted the deep slide where Fifth Niece had almost perished the day before yesterday, a hundred or more hovels wrecked by new slides in the same area.