Captive Bride (14 page)

Alan had already sold three of Huiann’s dresses and had orders for four more which customers had chosen from styles in
Godey’s Lady’s Book.
Huiann couldn’t sew fast enough to keep up with the orders.

Her friend Dora now spent a large portion of each day in their kitchen, cutting fabric to pattern pieces modified for the particular styles, and basting them together while Huiann did the finer needlework. There wasn’t always a hot meal waiting for Alan at noon now, but that was fine by him. He’d subsisted on lunches of sardine sandwiches before and would likely do it again. After all, Huiann wouldn’t be with him forever. He must remember that.

So be with her while you can,
an insidious inner voice insisted.
She wants. You want. Take her.

“What do you think of derby hats? I understand it’s the coming style back east.” Jeremy walked over to the counter, modeling the one derby Alan had in stock. It Bonnie Dee

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perched high on his big head and the rounded crown made his head look even bigger than normal.

“Um, no. Stick with a Stetson or no hat at all,” Alan advised. “Is this for Cynthia?” Jeremy nodded and plucked the hat from his head, running a hand over the felt. “It doesn’t make me look stylish?”

“Not really.”
More like a pumpkin wearing a hat.

“Are you planning to see Miss Dodge again?” The clerk smiled broadly. “I told you what happened at dinner the other night.”

“Several times.” Alan leaned on the counter and prepared to hear it again.

“Of course Mrs. Dodge was none too pleased when I arrived alone and made your excuses, but Cynthia smiled at me. Then all through dinner she kept looking at me. You know the look. I kept trying to think of ways I could get her alone for a minute or two, but her parents were right there. Her mama watched us like a hawk.”

“Mmm-hmm.” Alan could well imagine the formidable Mrs. Dodge ready to dive down on a helpless rabbit like Jeremy and tear him apart if he dared get too close to her precious daughter.

“Then it happened.” Jeremy’s eyes glowed and his smile widened. He hadn’t really stopped smiling since last Thursday. “I think Mr. Dodge approves of me, because he made his wife come with him to his study to discuss something and left us alone in the parlor for a full five minutes.”

“Did you kiss her?” Alan asked, pretending he’d forgotten what came next.

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“No, but she spoke to me again about how much she wants to return east, how she feels like she belongs there. She was almost in tears. I told her if she was my girl I’d find a way to take her. Then she let me hold her hand until her mother came back into the room.”

“Congratulations.”

“So I know she likes me. I just have to find a way to see her again. I attended their church on the past two Sundays like you suggested and I’ll be seeing her there every week, but I need more chances to be alone with her.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something.” Alan wished him well, but doubted if Jeremy had a chance of ever actually marrying Miss Dodge. The girl enjoyed his sympathetic ear and his adoration, but wasn’t the type who’d cross her mother for love when it came right down to it.

Alan checked his pocket watch, impatient to close the shop and get back to the exquisite agony of spending another evening with Huiann, yearning and pretending not to. Maybe Taylor had it right—a man should lay himself open for a woman, take his chances and damn the consequences.

A flurry of customers made the rest of the afternoon pass swiftly and at last it was closing time.

Jeremy tidied up while Alan cashed out the register and put the money in its pouch in the safe to be transferred to the bank in the morning. After bidding Jeremy good-night, Alan locked up behind him.

The kitchen smelled of an Oriental variation of chicken soup. Since he’d bought Huiann the ingredients from Chinatown, she’d prepared all sorts of exotic meals he’d never eaten before. Some were Bonnie Dee

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spicier than he was used to, but all were delicious. Of course, he wasn’t too picky about food. After nearly starving to death during the war, he was grateful to eat anything.

Pots steamed on the stove, but the room was empty.

Alan followed the joyful sound of feminine laughter up the stairs to the sitting room. Dora stood on a small stool, wearing the gown they were working on, and Huiann knelt at her feet, pinning the hem.

The pale rail of a girl looked almost beautiful and it wasn’t because of the elegant dress. Dora’s cheeks were pink and the bruising around her eye had faded.

Her hair had been combed and was tied with a bow at the back of her neck. Her smile lit her face so brightly it eclipsed her crooked teeth.

“Howdy, Mr. Sommers. What do you think?” She turned so he could see the intricately draped bustle.

“Beautiful. Another winner.” He returned her smile.

“And you look lovely in it, Dora.” She laughed and her cheeks flushed from pink to red. “Naw. I told Huiann she should be the one wearin’

it. She’d be like a fancy doll. But she says she’s too short and the hem would be wrong. Now that you’re taking orders, I think the ladies need to come here to be measured and fitted.”

Alan wasn’t too keen on the idea of anyone seeing his dressmaker for fear Huiann’s whereabouts would somehow get back to Xie. Although the likelihood of information traveling from San Francisco’s middle-class ladies to Chinatown was slim.

“Maybe you could do the measuring, Dora,” he suggested.

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Huiann rose from her knees, plucking pins from between her lips. “Good?”

“Yes, good. A beautiful dress,” he said. “Someone will snap that right up. At this rate you’re going to need more fabric soon.”

Dora lifted her skirts showing dingy stockinged feet as she stepped down from the ottoman. “Mr. Sommers, thanks for payin’ me to help Huiann with the sewing. I was gettin’ desperate to find work. No one would hire me, and Ralph…he wanted me to start earning my keep one way or another.”

Alan understood her meaning. Ralph wasn’t particular about whether Dora earned cash on her back or on her knees if she couldn’t get any other job. Alan would like to punch the man in the face, but it wouldn’t change things for Dora. The only way a bad-tempered drunk like Ralph would stop smacking her was if she left him or he landed himself in jail.

Unfortunately, the law didn’t concern itself with the way a man treated his wife, let alone some woman he was just living with.

“We’re grateful for your help, Dora. With both of you working, this dressmaking is turning a nice profit.” For the highest echelon of society there were private dressmakers, but supplying New York fashions at prices middle-class women could afford was proving very lucrative.

Alan pulled out his wallet and he offered Dora a dollar. “Here. You’re going to want something to show Ralph this is a real job.”

Her eyes glowed as she accepted it. “But we ain’t finished the dress yet, let alone sold it.” Bonnie Dee

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“This is an advance. When I pay you the rest, you might want to hold some back. Hide it someplace safe in case you need it.”

The concept should’ve been obvious to a woman living with a man who’d drink up every penny in the house given the chance, but Dora wasn’t too bright.

Her eyes opened wide as the idea sunk in. “Oh. Sure, Mr. Sommers. Maybe I’ll do that.” She went to Huiann’s room to change from the half-finished frock into her own worn dress. Without the buffer of Dora’s chatter to distract them, the simmering tension between Alan and Huiann resurfaced. She bent to collect scraps of fabric and pack her sewing kit while he retreated downstairs. He brought coal for the cookstove from the bin in the cellar and fetched more water into the house. By the time these tasks were finished, Dora was gone and Huiann was dishing up their dinner.

The domesticity of the pair of them sitting down to share a meal had become an integral part of his day.

He was always happy to face Huiann across the table, even when things were awkward between them, as they had been since the night of the kiss over a week ago. He talked to her and she responded, using her newly learned English to tell him about her day in short sentences, each syllable painfully pronounced.

“I get the water. Make the soup. I and Dora sew the dress. You?”

In return, Alan told about his day in the shop in the simplest terms possible. But beneath the frothy waves of small talk floated an iceberg of attraction that filled the room. While they both staunchly ignored it, lust 130

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threatened to sink the flimsy raft of words that carried them from postwork to bedtime.

After dinner they went to the sitting room, cleared of sewing paraphernalia, and worked on Huiann’s lessons. Alan quizzed her on all the words she knew and on the written words he’d taught her. The Chinese language was constructed in an entirely different manner from English, but she’d caught on to the concept of alphabet letters strung into words and words added together to form sentences.

Sitting beside her on the sofa while he tutored her was torture. He could smell her hair and his arm kept brushing against hers. Memories flashed in his mind—

her weight on his lap, the feeling of her lips mashed against his, the whimpers she’d made as he kissed her.

It was getting hard to remember why he shouldn’t kiss her when it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“Aran?” Her soft voice mispronouncing his name brought his attention back to the present. “I and Dora sew dress. More dress. More money.” She frowned as she searched for words to express her thought. “More women sew dress. More money.” She gestured around the room and held her fingers an inch apart. “Too small.”

Alan nodded. “You need more space for a workshop, and I’m sure there are plenty of women like Dora who’d be happy to earn an honest wage. I’ve been thinking of renting space.” Her eyes were trained on his mouth, decoding his speech, and he realized he’d used too many words. He rephrased. “Yes. More women sew dresses. Bigger room. Good.”

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Huiann’s dimples flashed as her plump lips curved and something inside Alan snapped. Logic fled, instinct took over and he bent to kiss her smiling mouth. The sense of relief was overwhelming. This was all he’d needed, just one kiss to satisfy him that her lips really were velvety soft. Now he could stop thinking about them.

But of course one kiss wasn’t nearly sufficient. He cupped her face and her skin was warm satin. Her jaw moved beneath his palm as she opened her mouth and latched on to his. Alan put his other hand around her waist and pulled her to him across the worn sofa cushion. Her body was solid and warm in his arms.

Her hand slid up his chest and curved around the side of his neck. She wanted him too, and there was nothing wrong with them kissing a little, nothing wrong at all.

Kissing would be enough. He didn’t need to go any farther. He plucked at her lips with his, running his tongue over her lower lip before catching it lightly between his teeth. His cock grew harder as his tongue slid into the wet heat of her mouth. His kisses grew greedier as he ached for more. Gripping her cotton blouse in back, he longed to slide his hand beneath and touch her skin.

Sitting side by side on the sofa was awkward so he pulled her onto his lap. The small bumps of her breasts pressed against his chest and her bottom settled across his thighs and rubbed his erection. He groaned. God, he was a fool to imagine that kissing would be enough.

It only made him hungry for even more. His hand drifted lower, from her blouse to her skirt, but there 132

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were too many folds of material and he couldn’t feel her bottom.

Huiann pulled away. She took her hand from the back of his neck, pressed it against his chest and gazed into his eyes from inches away, her lips moist and her chest heaving. She said something and touched his face, tracing the shape of his eyebrow and cheekbone before resting her fingers on his lips. The soft caress stole his breath and sent a new wave of heat coursing to his cock.

She might be saying she wanted him or politely telling him they must stop now. He had no idea which so he kissed her fingertips and drew her index finger into his mouth. She gasped as he sucked on it and rolled his tongue around her finger.

He placed a hand on her thigh, pushing her skirt up a little, making a silent suggestion and waiting for her response. She murmured something. Encouragement?

Denial? Impossible to tell but she didn’t push him away.

Alan released her finger from his mouth and kissed her lips again, then her chin and throat, her pulse fluttering beneath his lips. He licked her, tasting her salty-sweet skin.

She wiggled on top of him. Exquisite torture since his cock was now throbbing. He kissed her chest then rested his head against her breast and listened to her rapid heartbeat. She stroked his hair, but the comforting which he’d enjoyed the other night was no longer enough. He wanted so much more. He needed to be inside her, longed for it with a raging thirst that couldn’t be quenched by anything less.

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Closing his mind against concepts like ethics or consequences, Alan moved her off of his lap, rose and held out his hand. “I wish you would come to my bed.” He pointed toward his room with his other hand.

“My bed.”

Huiann took his hand and he pulled her to her feet.

She looked up at him with her dark eyes and nodded.

“Shi.”
Then she bit her lower lip and her cheeks flushed as she added more. Touching her hand to her sex, she shook her head.

Alan nodded. “No. You don’t have to.”

“You bed.” She nodded. “Lie down. No more.”

“No more,” he agreed. How many men in the history of the world had made such a promise to a woman then used the rest of the night to chip away at her resistance? He wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t push for more, but be content to have her lie with him all night long. That would be enough, though his cock ached with need.

He took her hand and led her from the room. In the dark of night, with only the kerosene lamp he carried to drive away the shadows, there was a dreamlike sense of freedom to do things that weren’t allowed in the bright light of day.