pot stickers in her mouth and made a murmurous, humming sound of pleasure that drew Kyle’s body tight with a hunger that no amount of hors d’oeuvres would ever satisfy.
“God,” she said, almost shivering with pleasure. “Food like this must be against the law. Are the spring rolls nearly as good?”
“You tell me.” He tucked one of the crispy morsels between her lips and watched while she chewed and swallowed.
“Incredible,” she said, then added in dismay, “but I’ll never be able to taste all of it before I’m full.”
The look of distress on Lianne’s face as she eyed the table of hors d’oeuvres would have made Kyle laugh, but he wanted too badly to lick up the tiny crumb of roll that was clinging to the corner of her mouth. The need twisted inside him with startling force. Even as he told himself he had been without a woman too long, he felt an unsettling certainty that he could have just crawled out of bed with a female and he still would want Lianne Blakely.
“You can stuff my pockets,” he offered.
“Don’t tempt me.” She laughed, then looked at the table again and sighed. “If only we had some decent wine…What a feast.”
“I know the chef. She understands wine. Obviously none of the wines here tonight were her choice.”
Lianne’s hand paused on the way back from an hors d’oeuvre plate. A small, ginger-spiced shrimp hovered on a bright toothpick next to her open lips. “You know the chef?”
“Yeah. Now eat that shrimp before I do.”
The unsubtle threat in Kyle’s voice surprised her more than the excellent food. Hastily, she offered the shrimp and several other tidbits besides.
“You should have told me you were starving,” Lianne said when Kyle instantly polished off every scrap she gave him. “We could have come to the buffet first. Who’s the chef?”
“Mei O’Toole. Her husband works for Donovan International. She and her sisters got tired of hearing about fusion cooking that ignored Asia and decided to show Seattle how Pacific Rim cooking should be done. They opened the Rain Lotus two months ago.”
“I should have guessed,” Lianne said, seeing for the first time the discreet card indicating which restaurant haddonated the table of food. “I’ve been trying to get into that place since I heard about it. They’re booked solid for the next six months.”
“How about tonight after the auction?” Kyle asked. “Or were you planning on staying for the dance?”
“No, I wasn’t, and what about tonight?”
“A late supper for two at the Rain Lotus.”
Lianne simply stared at him. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. All part of the stuffed-elephant escort service.”
“I’d love any kind of supper at the Rain Lotus—early, late, or middle.”
He smiled at her eagerness. Whoever said that the way to a woman’s heart was a diamond bracelet hadn’t met Lianne. Maybe he could feed her until she begged for mercy, and then he could quiz her on the Tang family and the Jade Emperor’s stolen art.
“It’s a deal,” Kyle said. “I take you to supper and you tell me what you’ve heard about the Jade Emperor.”
She shook her head. “Not you, too.”
“Me what?”
“Part of the Jade Emperor craze.”
“Why should I be immune to the hottest jade rumors since Chiang Kai-shek creamed mainland China’s treasures on the way to Taiwan?”
“Unlike Chiang Kai-shek, there’s no proof that the Jade Emperor ever existed, much less that he had a tomb filled with jade from all previous eras of Chinese history,” Lianne pointed out.
As she spoke, she filled her plate with an anticipation and hunger she didn’t bother to conceal. Idly Kyle wondered if she approached sex that way—directly, openly. When she tucked a bit of crab between her lips, then licked her fingertips, his curiosity took on a more urgent edge.
“Assume the Jade Emperor existed,” Kyle said, turning away and filling his own plate at random. Anything that came from Mei
“God,” she said, almost shivering with pleasure. “Food like this must be against the law. Are the spring rolls nearly as good?”
“You tell me.” He tucked one of the crispy morsels between her lips and watched while she chewed and swallowed.
“Incredible,” she said, then added in dismay, “but I’ll never be able to taste all of it before I’m full.”
The look of distress on Lianne’s face as she eyed the table of hors d’oeuvres would have made Kyle laugh, but he wanted too badly to lick up the tiny crumb of roll that was clinging to the corner of her mouth. The need twisted inside him with startling force. Even as he told himself he had been without a woman too long, he felt an unsettling certainty that he could have just crawled out of bed with a female and he still would want Lianne Blakely.
“You can stuff my pockets,” he offered.
“Don’t tempt me.” She laughed, then looked at the table again and sighed. “If only we had some decent wine…What a feast.”
“I know the chef. She understands wine. Obviously none of the wines here tonight were her choice.”
Lianne’s hand paused on the way back from an hors d’oeuvre plate. A small, ginger-spiced shrimp hovered on a bright toothpick next to her open lips. “You know the chef?”
“Yeah. Now eat that shrimp before I do.”
The unsubtle threat in Kyle’s voice surprised her more than the excellent food. Hastily, she offered the shrimp and several other tidbits besides.
“You should have told me you were starving,” Lianne said when Kyle instantly polished off every scrap she gave him. “We could have come to the buffet first. Who’s the chef?”
“Mei O’Toole. Her husband works for Donovan International. She and her sisters got tired of hearing about fusion cooking that ignored Asia and decided to show Seattle how Pacific Rim cooking should be done. They opened the Rain Lotus two months ago.”
“I should have guessed,” Lianne said, seeing for the first time the discreet card indicating which restaurant haddonated the table of food. “I’ve been trying to get into that place since I heard about it. They’re booked solid for the next six months.”
“How about tonight after the auction?” Kyle asked. “Or were you planning on staying for the dance?”
“No, I wasn’t, and what about tonight?”
“A late supper for two at the Rain Lotus.”
Lianne simply stared at him. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. All part of the stuffed-elephant escort service.”
“I’d love any kind of supper at the Rain Lotus—early, late, or middle.”
He smiled at her eagerness. Whoever said that the way to a woman’s heart was a diamond bracelet hadn’t met Lianne. Maybe he could feed her until she begged for mercy, and then he could quiz her on the Tang family and the Jade Emperor’s stolen art.
“It’s a deal,” Kyle said. “I take you to supper and you tell me what you’ve heard about the Jade Emperor.”
She shook her head. “Not you, too.”
“Me what?”
“Part of the Jade Emperor craze.”
“Why should I be immune to the hottest jade rumors since Chiang Kai-shek creamed mainland China’s treasures on the way to Taiwan?”
“Unlike Chiang Kai-shek, there’s no proof that the Jade Emperor ever existed, much less that he had a tomb filled with jade from all previous eras of Chinese history,” Lianne pointed out.
As she spoke, she filled her plate with an anticipation and hunger she didn’t bother to conceal. Idly Kyle wondered if she approached sex that way—directly, openly. When she tucked a bit of crab between her lips, then licked her fingertips, his curiosity took on a more urgent edge.
“Assume the Jade Emperor existed,” Kyle said, turning away and filling his own plate at random. Anything that came from Mei
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