Tell Me No Lies (42 page)

Wu bowed slightly. "We will have what we want, eventually. We are patient and dedicated."

"You'll have to be, as long as Deng or a progressive like him is in power," Catlin pointed out. "He'll bring in new ideas, Western modifications of failed Maoist economic doctrines. Hope, in a word. People who have hope don't rebel. If you want to stir up another revolution, you'll have to make sure that things stay hopeless for the Chinese. You'll have to separate China from the hope of the West until your people choke and die on the drawbacks of pure communism."

Catlin felt the strength of Lindsay's grip on his hand and prayed that she could be quiet for just a few moments longer. Wu had disregarded her as any kind of threat to his political plans. In the Chinese community, women were not expected to have a vital interest in matters of state. Nothing in Lindsay's life up to then had suggested that she was an exception to that cultural expectation. Even if she were, Wu had no reason to believe that she would feel differently about the atheistic rulers of China than her father and uncle had.

Catlin wanted it to stay that way.

"You have an admirable grasp of politics at its most pragmatic," Wu murmured.

"I learned in Asia."

Wu smiled. "Then you understand the importance of Qin's charioteer."

"You're going to use it as a wedge to drive East and West apart."

"Just so."

Catlin showed his indifference with a shrug, but the pressure of his hand on Lindsay's was unrelenting. "Politics is your problem, Wu. Mine is getting my hands on Qin's charioteer."

"Charioteer, chariot and two horses," Wu amended.

Lindsay's breath came in sharply. "My God," she breathed, stunned. "All of it? Together?"

With a small smile Wu turned to her. "A spectacular coup, is it not?'' He turned to Catlin again. "It is also a very expensive coup, I am afraid. The price is one million dollars. If you cannot manage that sum, there will be an auction. The bronzes will go to the highest bidder."

"I can manage it," Catlin said succinctly. "When and where do I pick up the bronzes?"

"As soon as the money is transferred to – "

"No," Catlin said. His voice was flat, ungiving. "Nothing gets transferred anywhere until Lindsay and I have inspected each and every piece of bronze."

"The pieces are genuine," Wu said reassuringly. His fragile hands hovered above the teapot like pale birds, but he poured no more tea. His attention was all on Catlin.

"Then there should be no problem with having Lindsay look at the bronzes. Take it or leave it, Wu. And remember," Catlin added in a smooth, hard tone, "a lot of people know that I'm looking for this charioteer and that I don't care about the, price. If we walk away from this sale, there won't be another one. Everyone will assume that I turned my back because the pieces didn't pass Lindsay's inspection."

Wu's face became expressionless and his hands very still. What Catlin said was the truth, and no one knew it better than Wu. He looked at Lindsay. "You are in agreement with this, daughter?"

It took all Catlin's self-control not to turn to Lindsay and require that she ignore Wu's naked bid for her to switch her loyalty from lover to beloved uncle.

"I'm not the buyer, Uncle Wu," she said carefully. "Catlin is. It is for him to agree or disagree with the actual details of the sale."

Wu grunted and turned back to Catlin, who smiled slightly. It was a smile that Wu had seen once before, on the screen of his television surveillance apparatus after Catlin had kissed Lindsay, drowning her objections to his past in a hot torrent of desire.

"I assume you have some kind of bank account in Hong Kong," Catlin said.

Wu nodded.

"That will make it easier. When Lindsay approves the bronzes, I'll simply call and arrange for a transfer of funds between the two Hong Kong banks. You can call your bank and verify that the money has been transferred. Then we'll take the bronzes."

There was a slight hesitation before Wu nodded. "It is agreeable." He nodded again. "Yes."

"Good. When and where?"

"You will go back to your hotel. A call will come when the bronzes are ready. You will leave immediately. You will not be followed. At a designated location, a car will arrive and take you to the bronzes. Is that understood?"

Catlin shook his head. "Not good enough, Wu. I've got to have some way to move the bronzes. I'll drive a van to – "

"That will not be necessary," Wu said, cutting across Catlin's words. "For the sum you are paying, we will be honored to provide a truck and driver. You will of course have an opportunity to approve of vehicle and chauffeur before the sale is consummated."

It was less than Catlin had hoped for and more than he had expected. He nodded. "There's one potential problem," he said carelessly.

Wu's eyes narrowed.

"You know the FBI is keeping tabs on me," said Catlin.

Wu sighed. "Yes, that is a difficulty. With a man of Rousseau's background, it was not an unanticipated difficulty, however. We have succeeded in working around it thus far."

"I was lucky flushing tails on short notice today," Catlin said bluntly. "Next time they'll be a lot harder to lose."

"It would be very unfortunate if you were followed," Wu said. "It would be perceived as a definite sign of your unwillingness to purchase the bronzes. Under those circumstances it would not be difficult to arrange a second sale – without you."

Catlin ignored the threat and concentrated on what he needed from Wu. Time. "There's no real problem. All I need is enough time after the call to get rid of my admirers before Lindsay and I show up at the rendezvous."

"How much time would you require?"

"At least forty-five minutes."

"I will allow you ten,"

"But-"

"Ten," Wu said sharply. "No more. My collaborators in this operation are very suspicious people. They would become much too uneasy if you were given more than ten minutes."

"I'll do my best. No guarantees, Wu. I'm not a miracle worker."

"You are Rousseau. That should be enough." Wu smiled rather grimly. "There is one last, insignificant detail."

Every nerve in Catlin's body came to full alert. "Yes?" he asked blandly.

"You will not be armed. This is not a matter of negotiation," Wu said, accurately reading Catlin's instant objection.

"I have too many enemies to go unarmed," Catlin said flatly.

"Lee Tran?" murmured Wu.

"He's at the top of the list."

"Lee Tran will not step upon your shadow again, ever." Wu bowed slightly toward Lindsay. "It is my humble apology for misunderstanding you, daughter."

"That's not – " Lindsay began, wondering if she had understood Wu correctly. And afraid that she had.

"Thank you," Catlin interrupted, bowing slightly in return. In Mandarin he added, "We are most appreciative that a man of your dignity would soil his hands removing such garbage rather than leaving it to stink in the presence of humble guests. If, however, you find that the stench so offends your honorable nostrils as to make Tran's removal impossible, you have only to call upon my miserable self. The removal will be accomplished with the speed of lightning walking over the land."

The papery sound of Wu's laughter rustled in the room. He took Lindsay's hand again, patting it fondly. "You have chosen well, daughter. Not wisely, perhaps, but well. Your honorable uncle and father would have approved."

Wu bowed to Lindsay, then to Catlin before turning and walking from the room.

Lindsay watched Wu go with a feeling of unreality. "Is he really going to – "

"I profoundly hope so," interrupted Catlin, pulling Lindsay close, kissing her almost roughly. "Move," he said savagely in her ear. Simultaneously his fingers dug into her arms, turning her toward the door. "Now."

Without a word Lindsay walked toward the door that led to the chapel. The room was empty but for a handful of candles and the pungence of incense swirling from a magnificent Han censer set by the altar. Nothing moved in the garden except the crystal dance of water over rock. The black gate opened at a touch.

Catlin went through first. There was no sign of Lee Tran or of anyone else who was interested in the two Anglos mixed among the Asian throngs. Lindsay neither looked at Catlin nor spoke to him all the way to the hotel.

"You can relax now. All we have to do is wait for Wu's call, but that won't be for a while. The banks in Hong Kong are still closed." Catlin glanced sideways at Lindsay as they climbed the service stair. "If it helps, you did a good job."

She said nothing. Instinctively she knew that she shouldn't relax, shouldn't let go of her tightly held emotions. If she did, she would fly apart.

"I'm sorry I was rough on you at the end. I was afraid that Wu or his partners would get smart and decide to keep us as 'guests' until the bronzes arrive," Catlin continued. "Besides, if Stone isn't already raising hell about our disappearance, he will be soon."

Neither by word nor action did Lindsay show that she had heard Catlin.

"Are you all right?" Catlin asked softly.

No answer.

"Lindsay?" he asked, reaching out to stroke her shining bronze hair.

"I'm just peachy," she said in a brittle voice.

"I know it was hard for you," he said gently, touching her hair.

"I don't want to talk about it," Lindsay said. "I can't. If I do I'll cry or scream or throw up or all three at once." She took a ragged breath and let it out slowly. "I'm pretty close to the edge, Catlin," she said, her voice flat.

Before the sentence was finished he had pulled her into his arms.

"Hold on to me, Lindsay," he said, kissing her eyelids, her temples, the corners of her mouth. "Hold on hard. It's almost over."

"Is it?" she asked hoarsely, wrapping her arms around his neck because he was the only stability in a swiftly spinning world. "Is it really? I feel like it will go on forever, worse and worse – lies, everything lies. And there's nothing I can do. I'm trapped. Nothing is real. Nothing but lies. My uncle, my father, my mother, Wu." Lindsay made an odd, broken sound. "I'm too tired to fight it anymore."

Catlin held her against his body as though he could take her into himself, give her some of his strength, some of his experience at surviving in a world of lies. "I haven't lied to you," he said.

Lindsay looked up at him with wild, dark eyes. "That's all that has kept me from coming apart. You knew it would be like this for me, didn't you?"

"Yes."

But I didn't know how much it would hurt you, me, us.

"Kiss me," he whispered even as he fitted his mouth to hers.

Lindsay didn't ask whether the kiss were act or reality, male passion or a response to her own need. She simply gave herself to Catlin's embrace, drinking his strength and warmth, letting it seep through her body to her soul. After a long, long time she felt herself eased down his length until her feet touched the ground again. His head tilted down once more. He gave her a tiny, biting kiss, and then another, as though he couldn't bring himself to release her mouth.

"Let's go to the room," he said.

Catlin took Lindsay's right hand, lacing their fingers together with a slow, sensual appreciation that made her breath catch. He heard the small, betraying sound and smiled.

"That's what I love about you," he said, his voice low. He brought her hand to his lips and inserted the tip of his tongue between her fingers, caressing the sensitive skin. "You're sexy everywhere. I want you so much I ache."

"Do you?" Lindsay whispered. "Do you really?"

His only answer was to take her hand and slide it down his body until she felt the hard reality of his hunger beneath her fingers.

"I've never lied to you," Catlin said, his voice taut with the hot flow of blood pooling between his thighs. "I – " His breath came out in a deep groan as Lindsay caressed him, then flexed her fingers so that his hungry, rigid flesh could feel the gentle bite of her nails through the layers of clothing.

"Come take a shower with me, honey cat," he said huskily. His fingers tightened on her right hand as he slowly drew her arm behind her back, arching her into his body. His hips moved against her, silently promising her the release that she needed as much as he did. "I'm going to love you until you scream with pleasure."

Lindsay's answer was a shiver of anticipation that went through Catlin like an electric current. He wanted to kiss her again but knew that if he did he might not stop until he finished what he had started, and to hell with anyone who might wander up the stairway. He wanted her now. She was wildfire spreading through his veins, burning him. The thought of sliding his aching, violently sensitive flesh into her took him right to the edge of control. He arched her into his thighs once more, trying to ease the fierce clamor of his body, wondering if he would ever get enough of her.

Finally, reluctantly, Catlin released Lindsay so that they could walk to the room. He was bringing the key to the lock when he remembered to check the tiny sliver of transparent tape he always put across the upper edge of the door.

The tape was gone.

Catlin spun and swept Lindsay down the hall before she could protest. He stopped in front of the stairwell, opened the door and pushed her through.

"Someone has been in the room while we were gone," he explained quietly.

"The maid – "

"I had the Do Not Disturb sign out." He watched the knowledge settle into Lindsay. "Stay here," he said. "If you hear any shots, go down to the lobby, call Stone and camp at the front desk until the troops arrive. Understand?"

"What are you -"

"Do you understand?" Catlin demanded, overriding Lindsay's question.

She searched his eyes and saw only the bleakness of the dragon staring back at her. "I understand," she whispered.

"Don't go near the room until I personally come down the hall and get you. If I call to you from the doorway and tell you to come to me, it means that someone has a gun at my back and I want you to turn and run like hell and not stop running until you're surrounded by the FBI. Clear?"

Lindsay nodded her head, unable to speak for the fear closing her throat. As he turned to leave she remembered what he had said before they went to meet Wu.