She Belongs to Them Both

Chapter Four

Chapter Four

Meg smiled and came out from behind the counter. She indicated the small table in the corner next to the register. Grandfather had always kept it there for his friends who came to sit and drink tea with him every afternoon. “Please sit down.” She’d already made a large coffee urn full of tea as she did every day for herself and the customers and poured him a cup from the spigot.

She set the cup on the table in front of him, poured one for herself and sat down, taking a quiet moment before customers came in. She sipped her tea, observing his polite, graceful mannerisms and watching the corded muscles in his forearms flex as he lifted the cup to his lips. She wondered briefly if it were truly possible to fall in love with a man just watching him sip tea. “I’m Megan, by the way. Megan Phillips,” she said when he’d set his cup down.

He held out his hand. “Jie Sing. Pleased to meet you.”

She accepted his hand, which closed around hers warmly. His touch was strong yet gentle and sent a jolt of heat up her arm. To her chagrin, a light pulsing began between her thighs. The sensation spread upward, into her breasts, as if her body were crackling to life after a long slumber. Another moment passed before she realized she was staring at him and she blinked as if shaken from a trance. This handshake was much longer that appropriate, yet she didn’t want to release his hand.

He too, seemed reluctant to let go, though after one more second, he squeezed her hand gently and released it. A look of bewilderment clouded his eyes and he picked up his tea, seeming to use it was a way to busy himself, and took a sip.

Meg swallowed past a lump in her throat. She hadn’t been this nervous since Ben had first asked her out years ago. “You said before Auntie Yee came in that you were looking for someone?”

He nodded and set down his cup.

Meg’s eye caught the tiny movement in his throat as he swallowed the tea and she experienced the most wicked urge to press her lips to his neck.

A shadow passed across his eyes but disappeared just as quickly. “Yes. Can you tell me, the name on the sign, Chen, is he here?”

Meg’s hand closed around her small teacup. “No. He…passed away six months ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

She nodded, avoiding his gaze. The sympathy in his eyes made tears threaten to well in her eyes. “He was my grandfather.”

“Your grandfather?” He sounded clearly puzzled and she knew exactly why.

She looked at him and smiled. “I know. I don’t look like I’d be his granddaughter, do I?”

He frowned, looking sheepish. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s all right. My father was a tai chi student of Grandfather’s. He was white.” Megan found herself spilling the story of her heritage to the doctor. Something about his quiet, gentle manner made her feel like she could tell him anything. “My parents were killed in a plane accident when I was nine. I’ve lived here with Grandfather ever since.” She looked briefly into her cup, feeling suddenly foolish. “I’m sorry. You probably didn’t need to know all that.”

“Nothing to be sorry for. Nothing at all.”

She looked at him, feeling her cheeks burn. There was something in the way he spoke that warmed her and made her know he was completely sincere.

“I lost my parents when I was eighteen,” he said softly. “Not as young as you were but I know how it feels.”

“I’m sorry.”

He nodded. “Thank you.”

“What happened, if I may ask?”

“They were killed in Tiananmen Square during the student protests. By the People’s Liberation Army when they opened fire into the crowd.”

Meg’s heart wrung painfully. “That’s terrible.”

He nodded. “You’re very kind. But I was fortunate to have a godfather who’s been there for me. Li Yun Po. I believe he knew your grandfather.”

Meg immediately knew who that was. Grandfather had spoken many times over the years about Li Yun Po, his boyhood friend in the Shaolin temple. Grandfather and Li had been very mischievous and were always getting into trouble with the abbot. She rose from her chair and picked a framed photograph off the nearby wall, taken of Grandfather and Li just before they parted. Two young men of sixteen standing side by side peered out from the sepia tones of the photograph. Grandfather was dressed in a Western style traveling suit while Li still wore the baggy traditional Chinese trousers, shirt and cap.

She extended the photograph to the doctor. “This is Grandfather with his friend. They corresponded for some time after Grandfather reached America but lost touch when Li was relocated to Tibet by the Communists.”

The doctor took the photograph from her. His fingertips brushed hers lightly. Just the whisper of his touch sent warm thrills into her hand and up her arm. Her mind went fuzzy and the room tilted slightly.

She cleared her throat and watched him study the picture, his thick dark lashes resting against his high cheekbones as he looked down.

“Yes,” he said after several moments. He looked up at her. “This is Li.”

Meg sat back down, her heart beating hard, both from the arousing effect this man was having on her and from the excitement of this visit from Grandfather’s past. In the next moment, she realized that Dr. Sing must have come all the way from China to find his godfather’s friend, only to find he’d passed away. She sighed. “I’m sorry, Dr. Sing. You’ve traveled such a long way for nothing.”

“Please, call me Jie.” He smiled, causing her heart to gallop. “And I didn’t come here for nothing.”

The bell on the door tinkled before Meg could respond. She turned to see the first customers coming in. The traffic would be steady for the rest of the day. She felt a stab of disappointment. Jie would probably leave now. She looked back at him. “I’m sorry. The customers are coming. You’re…welcome to stay.”

He nodded in that polite way of his. “Yes, I will.”

She smiled, ridiculously happy to hear those words. “Wonderful. Help yourself to tea. It’s right here.” She pointed to the urn. She smiled at him again, feeling almost giddy. “Excuse me.” She turned abruptly to make herself available to the customers before she began to babble like a lovesick teenager.

The moment he said he’d stay, Jie went into turmoil. Could Megan Phillips be the woman he sought? If she was his mate, then he needed to claim her and protect her from the other lang ren. But if she wasn’t, it meant there was another woman out there somewhere who was vulnerable to his opponent.

He sat quietly, with his hands around his teacup, his contemplative posture belying the storm inside him. Truthfully, the thought that she might not be his mate greatly disappointed him. Megan’s scent, a female musk unlike any he’d ever experienced, churned the very air he breathed, making him dizzy and aroused. Since he’d been bitten and his senses sharpened, he’d become aware of all females’ scents but none were as strong, as deliciously overpowering as Megan’s. His groin tightened each time their eyes met and her smile, sweet and sad, seared him in a place so deep inside he’d almost forgotten it was there. In just minutes, she’d revived part of his heart he’d thought Su Lin had taken away with her, or that the PLA had stolen when they murdered his parents. If that alone wasn’t the sign of a mate, he couldn’t imagine what was.

He listened to her voice as she helped the customers, the soft, gentle sound resonating deep inside him, stirring his heart.

As the time passed, his hope that she was his mate intensified. Something about her very essence comforted him as much as it roused his desire. In spite of his confusion, he found that in her presence, he felt calmer and more peaceful than he remembered feeling in many years, perhaps ever.

He didn’t want to leave. He couldn’t.

She too, seemed to want him to stay. Her face had lit up like no woman’s ever had just from his saying he would stay. As far as he could see, she didn’t have a husband or a boyfriend. Perhaps she was very lonely. No doubt she was grieving for her grandfather, whom she’d obviously loved very much. There also didn’t seem to be anyone else who worked here, meaning Megan ran this place by herself. He admired her strength.

She also understood his losses, having suffered in the same way. Their lives, though so vastly different, had been connected deeply by Li and Chen, the men who’d been their teachers and dear friends. Seemed impossible that this was an accident.

For what seemed a long time, he sat observing Megan while his tea grew cold in the cup. A few times he overheard a customer asking her about medicinal herbs for a certain ailment and he volunteered an answer, touched each time by the gratitude and sweetness in her smile when she thanked him. By late morning, he’d felt almost as many pulses as he did on an average day of his practice back in China.

Li’s astrological chart seemed to have led him to Megan’s doorstep.

And he wasn’t going to leave until he knew for sure.

He looked down again into the pale tea in his cup. The clues Li had given him now echoed in his mind. Smooth ivory. Deep jade. Golden silk. The words sounded like a puzzle to him. Somehow he sensed there was a deeper meaning to them than the mere words implied.

It didn’t seem logical that a woman would be his mate simply because she could give him these objects. He was in Chinatown and, no doubt, silk, jade and ivory were substances that he could find in abundance in any shop that sold Chinese imports. In that case, any woman who sold such items would qualify as his mate. This didn’t make sense.

No. There had to be another answer. Li always told him that the answers would be inside him if he looked and if he believed he could find them.

Smooth ivory. Deep jade. Golden silk. He tapped a forefinger absently against the teacup as he reflected. Each substance mentioned invited the senses of touch and of sight. By touching, one could experience the softness, the smoothness of each beautiful thing. By looking, one could see the colors that mystified the heart.

But he couldn’t see colors. Ever since he’d been bitten, he could only see in black and white.

However, what if he could see color? What colors would they be? Ivory. Very pale, near white. Jade, green. And the silk, golden, perhaps like the sun, or like wheat. It was not so long ago that he could have seen these different hues.

Suddenly, as if someone had flipped a switch, Jie understood. His heart yawed in his chest and prickles of heat skittered over his skin. He looked up at Megan.

She’d just finished with a customer and there was no one else in the store at the moment. This lull was his opportunity.

She was smiling at him and coming out from behind the register. Her gaze went to his teacup. “Would you like some more tea? Yours must be cold by now.”

“Megan, I need to ask you something.” He hadn’t meant to ignore her offer of hospitality but his inquiry couldn’t wait. It was everything.

Her brow furrowed and her eyes clouded. “Of course.” She lowered herself into a chair. “What is it?”

“I know you’ll think I sound crazy but I promise I’m not.”

She nodded. “All right.”

He sat up in his chair. “I’m colorblind and I need to know what color your hair is.”

A shy smile touched her lips. “Blonde.”

“May I…may I touch it?”

“Okay.” She looked puzzled but thankfully, not offended. She reached up and pulled out a pin, unwinding the bun and loosening the ponytail. She held out the long strands.

Jie’s heart raced. He reached out and took the very ends between his fingertips, caressing it gently. Her hair was soft, dreamy, making him wish it were loose and that he could bury his face in it while he held her in his arms.

Golden silk.

He released her hair, pretending that touching it hadn’t made an erection spring to life in his jeans. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” She coiled it up and pinned it back into its bun.

“What color are your eyes?” he asked, averting his gaze from the sight of her breasts pushing against her t-shirt while her arms were lifted.

“They’re green, like my father’s eyes were.”

Deep jade.

He didn’t need to ask her about her skin. It was pale. Pale as ivory. He could see that much. “May I see your hand? I’m sorry if I sound strange. I promise I have a reason.”

She looked at him. “I believe you, Jie.” She reached her hand out to him.

He accepted it, trying very hard to suppress the raw jolt of heat that shot through his groin at the contact. He let her hand rest in his, turning it over, palm down while he caressed her skin with the fingers of his other hand. There was only one word to describe the way her skin felt under his searching fingertips. Smooth. Smooth ivory.

He gave her hand a gentle squeeze and released it. His blood raced through his veins like liquid fire. He worked hard to keep his breathing normal, though the wild beat of his heart crashed in his ears. Every nerve ending of his body crackled. He’d found her. In the very first place he’d looked.

He’d found his mate.