Silence reigned for several heartbeats while Tracy struggled not to look to Nathan for help, or worse, bite her lip the way she had as a child. It took another dozen beats before Tracy found her spine. So she wasn’t beautiful; she was still a person. Though it took an act of will, Tracy did it. She steeled her shoulders and met the woman’s gaze eye to eye, earning an arched eyebrow as her reward.
Meanwhile, Nathan began speaking. His words were in Chinese, so Tracy understood none of it except for one word: Mama.
The woman flicked his comments away with a negligent wave, somehow managing to make even that gesture a sensuous delight. And then a brain cell managed to fire. Understanding slipped through until Tracy’s gaze shot to Nathan. “Mama,” she echoed. “You said Mama. This can’t be your mother.”
Nathan nodded. “I told you my mother led the temple.”
“Yes, but…But…She’s so young!”
The Tigress Mother smiled, the gentle pull of her lips bowing her mouth in a most feminine display. “How old do you think I am, little cub?” she asked in English. Her voice was velvety smooth, her accent almost negligible.
Tracy swallowed, scrambling to upgrade her estimate. “Um, forty?” But that would mean she’d had Nathan when she was eleven.
“I turned fifty-eight this year.”
Tracy swallowed her knee-jerk “bull hockey,” response. Instead, she simply shook her head. No plastic surgeon was that good. This simply could not be Nathan’s mother. Meanwhile, the Tigress Mother gestured about the room, her wave going first to Nathan’s aunt.
“Tigress Lily is fifty-four,” she said. Tracy gaped.
“Tigress Ting Bo is forty-eight,” she continued. Then one by one, other tigresses stepped forward, each announcing their ages with clear pride.
“Seventy-one.”
“Thirty-four.”
“Twenty-two.”
All appeared younger than their stated ages, some by a little, some by staggering amounts. But none could match the apparent youth or sensuality of the Tigress Mother.
“And you, Tigress Tracy,” she asked after a half dozen had spoken, “what is your calendar age?”
“Twenty-five,” she answered, her voice tiny.
“Ah, the same age as my daughter,” she said as the flour-dusted girl stepped in. The one who looked sixteen.
Cai Ting grimaced. “Mother, please. She has come all the way from the United States, and we haven’t even given her tea. Let her get her bearings.”
“Of course,” Mother Tigress said with a bow. Then she settled herself into the largest, most ornately carved black lacquer chair. A queen in her throne? It would be easy enough to think so, and yet as she sat there, she appeared not so much a queen as a courtesan—gorgeous, sensuous, her every breath an act of mysterious seduction. Then her eyes scanned the crowd. “Attend to your studies,” she said sweetly.
The room quickly emptied of all except for Tracy, Nathan and his mother.
“My brother is at work,” he said. “You’ll meet him tonight.”
Tracy nodded, completely fine with slowing the introductions. “Is there a room where I could freshen up?” she asked. “And where did my luggage go?”
“Nathan will take it to Dragon Stephen’s practice room,” the Tigress Mother answered. “There is a bathing chamber there.”
Tracy opened her mouth to object. She had no intention of practicing anything with anyone just yet. But before she could respond, another gorgeous woman entered the room. She was carrying a silver English tea tray, which she settled carefully—and of course beautifully—upon the low coffee table. In truth, she appeared nothing less, nothing more than anyone else Tracy had met so far—young, beautiful and with a sensuous quality about her that could not be denied.
The difference? She was white. A redhead to be exact, complete with freckles and emerald-green eyes. And as soon as she set the tea tray down, she looked up at Nathan and offered him a full, seductive smile. She said something in Chinese—a greeting no doubt—her voice a husky whisper that felt like claws down Tracy’s spine.
It wasn’t, of course, but Tracy felt her hatred rise even before Nathan’s gaze shuttered closed. Obviously this was the last woman he’d been with. The lover who was just like Tracy, except…Except Nathan did not look even warmly at that woman. He bowed politely to her, then turned to his mother. “I will see to the luggage.”
Tracy was so busy feeling a catty satisfaction at his coldness to the redhead that she missed his words until he exited the room. He was leaving? Abandoning her to his mother and the Irish sea witch?
“Nathan?” She half rose out of her seat, but was stopped by a firm hand on her shoulder. It was the Tigress Mother, pressing her back into her seat. Damn, her hand was strong. Tracy could have fought it off, but politeness kept her from being rude to an elder—no matter how young the woman seemed. Meanwhile, Nathan paused long enough in the archway to send her a wan smile.
“I’ll be in the kitchen with my sister. It is not far.” Then he glanced at his mother. “And you should get to know the head of your order.”
“But…” she began, unsure what she was going to say.
“He is quite correct,” his mother interposed. Her voice was low, almost like a purr, but with a cutting edge to it that grated on Tracy’s nerves. “We must speak to one another as tigresses. No man, not even a tigress’s son, can interfere with that.”
Nathan took the hint. He was dismissed, and so he bowed to his mother and Tracy—completely ignoring the redhead—and then disappeared. Which left Tracy alone to brave the tigresses in their den, so to speak.
She started with the redhead, turning to inspect the woman with a benign smile. Beautiful, of course. Willowy, like everybody else. But there was an emptiness in the woman’s eyes that made Tracy pity her, not hate her. The thought was startling enough that she lost whatever mild greeting she was going to voice. Then the moment was gone as the woman pushed to her feet, bowed reverently to the Tigress Mother and left, as well. Perhaps to run panting after Nathan?
Which left Tracy alone with Nathan’s mother. Except turning to the woman, Tracy couldn’t think of her as a mother. She was a model, a queen and a tigress, all rolled into one. Tracy mustered a semblance of a smile just as the Tigress Mother released a soft, sensuous sigh.
“Please. The tea is designed to soothe one’s nerves after a long journey.”
Tracy nodded slowly, looking at the tea tray, and finally got the hint. Apparently, the Tigress Mother wanted her to serve. But tea service hadn’t been taught in her high school. She would probably do it all wrong. And wasn’t the hostess supposed to serve? Unless this was some weird Chinese custom. Either way, the Tigress Mother was waiting for Tracy to move.
She dutifully shifted to the coffee table. Of course, the only way to settle at the right height was to drop down onto her knees. She did, thankful that her joints didn’t pop as they sometimes did. Then she did her best to pour scalding liquid into tiny cups without splashing or spilling. She was just at the most delicate moment when the Tigress Mother spoke.
“Explain to me the sex you have had with my son, and its effect upon you.”
She didn’t spill. A minor miracle, that. As it was, she carefully set down the teapot to blink stupidly at Nathan’s mother.
“He has told me that you visited the Chamber of a Thousand Swinging Lanterns.”
Tracy swallowed and nodded.
“Describe it to me.”
Tracy opened her mouth, but no sound came out. In the end, she simply closed her eyes, shook her head and lied. “I cannot,” she whispered. “I can hardly remember it.”
The Tigress Mother narrowed her eyes, and her lips curled in disgust. Tracy had never actually seen a person’s lips do that, but curl they did and with utter disdain. “A tigress does not lie,” she said. “Not to herself and certainly not to me. Do you wish to be beautiful? Do you wish to look like me when you are sixty?”