Cursed by Love (2 page)

Watching
the program at home, she always sympathized with the unsuspecting owners of the
fakes. As a teacher, she was all for education. But knock-on-wood, she hoped
her possession turned out to be more than a valuable learning experience.

More
from habit than any expectation of good luck, she randomly fingered the charms
attached to her silver bracelet. A star, rainbow, four-leaf clover, a
leprechaun, and horseshoe.

Frowning,
the empty space where her lucky penny used to hang caught her attention. She’d
lost that one—her oldest and most favorite talisman—a few weeks ago and hadn’t
found one to replace it yet.

Not
that she
really
believed in such things, but it didn’t hurt to keep her
options open. Discovering a new lucky coin would be a good indication her
fortunes were about to change. She needed them to change, and soon—if the
catastrophes of the past few months were anything to go by.

Crossing
her fingers, Molly wished for the best as Janice clipped a microphone onto the
front of her T-shirt.

“If you look closely at the carvings,”
James
Lindermann
instructed, “you can see the
exquisite craftsmanship...”

Seated beneath the glare of hot studio
lights, Gabe felt sweat beading between his shoulder blades. He tried to
concentrate on the expert’s monologue about the oddly shaped chunk of green
jade his grandfather had provided as an answer to their prayers.

The carving had collected dust in a
footlocker under Granddad’s bed for as long as Gabe could remember. But since
he didn’t give a rat’s rear about twelfth-century this, whoever-dynasty that,
his mind wandered.

He had real-life problems to worry
about. But if this knickknack turned out to be nothing more than a fancy
paperweight, he’d have his grandfather’s disappointment to deal with as well.

Granddad was certain the piece had
immense historical and monetary value, but then, that was Granddad all over.
Gabe had no idea how the old man remained a wide-eyed optimist after all the
kicks in the teeth he’d endured. But Gabe figured one of them should be realistic,
and usually, in the shifting kaleidoscope of Shaw family dynamics, he’d been
assigned the role of hard-nosed pragmatist.

In
the end, he’d understood he could either bring Granddad’s treasure here to the
show for him, or the feisty octogenarian would bring it himself. He was used to
Granddad’s oddities, but other people tended to lose their patience when trying
to talk to him. Mainly because he refused to wear his hearing aid unless it
suited him to do so.

Gabe
had decided it was better for him to humor the old man than to worry about him
creating a scene on public television. He hoped for both of their sakes that
the twisty-leaf-shaped-jade thing turned out to be worthwhile. A few hundred
bucks wouldn’t do the business any good. Hell, a few thousand wouldn’t help.
They needed a major influx of cash, and they needed it
now.
If only he
could manage to keep things going for the next six months, he had a real shot
at making their family business a success.

He
pulled his thoughts back on track. Look interested, the director had said. He
fixed his gaze on the jade as James lifted the piece and turned it upside down
to point to some markings on the bottom.

“The
jade is exquisite. The marking is undeniable.” The appraiser quivered with
suppressed excitement. “The stones set in the bronze base are first-quality
rubies approximately one to two carats each.”

The
phrase “first-quality rubies” grabbed Gabe’s attention. “As is, I’d estimate
the value of this piece at the right auction to be approximately twenty- to
thirty-thousand dollars.”

He
almost leapt to his feet in celebration. But pretending to be Mr. Cool, he
managed to stay in his seat. Before he broke open the champagne, he wanted—
needed
—James
to repeat the amount. “How much?”

“Under
the right circumstances, it could bring twenty- to thirty-thousand dollars.”

Gabe
hit the heel of his hand against his ear, in case Granddad’s hearing disability
was hereditary and had chosen this moment to strike. “Did you say ten-thousand
dollars?”

“I
said
twenty
-thousand,” James repeated, smiling all the while. “Or
thirty. And that estimate could be on the low side.”

Gabe
rolled the number around inside his head, stunned by the evaluation. Then,
remembering Janice’s instructions, he found his voice and spoke up. “Thank you!
My grandfather will be thrilled. And so am I.” He reached out to pump the
appraiser’s well-manicured hand.

Thirty-thousand
dollars wouldn’t be enough to save them, but it would tide them over for a few
weeks. At least until he could come up with some new clients or extra capital
to keep the company afloat.

“Regarding
the companion piece.” The appraiser gestured to the other carving. Oh, yeah,
Gabe almost forgot about the curious woman from the waiting room.

“Congratulations,”
she mouthed. The same brilliant eyes that had watched him disapprovingly when
he’d talked—all right, when he’d
yelled
—at Granddad, now glittered with
excitement, eager to hear about her treasure.

As
the appraiser began his spiel, Gabe reminded himself to pay attention—when all
he really wanted to do was take the piece and run to the nearest auction house.

“See
the similar markings?” the expert began.

Gabe
watched on autopilot, following the lead of the Webber woman, nodding when she
nodded, smiling when she smiled.

And
what a great smile. Her lush and full lips drew his attention. Wide and
expressive, they were totally out of place on top of a package that made her
look like she’d arrived at the Convention Center straight from the schoolroom.

Pleated
skirt, canvas tote bag, sensible sneakers, tip-tilted nose. Clear, oceanic blue
eyes that conveyed her every thought. Skin like peaches. Even under the
unremarkable, everyday clothing, her body hinted at some definite
curvage
.

So
not all of her parts fit the elementary-school image, but enough of her bits
and pieces meshed together for him to recognize a traditional woman with
children and domesticity on her mind. Not the sophisticated, career-driven type
that usually appealed to him. Not the kind of woman who looked for sexual
release more often than an emotional connection.

The
fire-shot opal sparkling on the third finger of Molly’s left hand didn’t look
like a wedding or engagement ring. But if she wasn’t married, he’d missed his
guess by a mile. Although her earlier choice of reading material indicated
things might be rocky on the home front. Still, someone who looked that sexily
domestic should definitely be married and making some lucky bum ecstatic in the
bedroom.

“There
are twelve flawless rubies, at least a carat each. Valuable in their own right,
but combined with the authenticity of the jade and its partner—” James removed
a handkerchief from an inside coat pocket and mopped his brow, letting the
suspense build. “Individually, the two pieces have similar values. The pink is
slightly more valuable than the green due to the unusual coloring and the size
of the jewels. But here’s the exciting part…”

The
appraiser picked up both jades. A sly smile lifted the corners of his mouth.
The tension in the air ratcheted up a notch. Sensing a jackpot find, a crowd
had gathered on the perimeter of their set.

“If
you fit the components together like so...” James paused before placing Molly’s
rose-hued swirling petals of jade inside Gabe’s hollowed out base. As the
appraiser gave a slight twist of the wrist, the hair on the back of Gabe’s neck
stood up.

“Voila!”
James said with a dramatic gesture. “It’s unusually subdued for a piece of this
sort, especially from this era, but do you see what we have?”

“Oh
my goodness, it’s beautiful.” Molly’s voice flowed over Gabe like warm honey.
“It looks like a flower. A lily, maybe, or... a lotus blossom?”

“It’s
what Asian art collectors call a Sleeping Lotus,” James enthused. “It’s very
uncommon to find a set created in the twelfth century, by Li-Wang, the
Emperor’s Imperial carver, intact and undamaged.” The appraiser beamed like a
man ready to kick up his heels. “I’ve dreamed of handling both the stalk and
petals of a Lotus in such pristine condition for my entire career, but I’ve
never had the privilege. My heart nearly pounded out of my chest when I saw the
two pieces.”

“Never?”
Molly’s eyes widened with delight.

Gabe
rubbed his palms together beneath the table. Oh, yeah, this could be good.
Very, very good.

“None
that have come close to this one in quality, condition, and beauty,” James
amended.

An
unprecedented spark of hope flared inside Gabe’s chest. “Why are they so rare?”

“Despite
the curses often attached to such artistry, the pieces get—”

Uh-oh
. Gabe clamped a hand over the back of
his neck. He hoped his sister, Sierra, didn’t hear anything about a possible
curse. She lapped up that kind of claptrap with a spoon.

Molly’s
shoulders jerked back like she’d been shocked with an electrical wire. “What
kind of curses?”

“We
can’t know what curse is attached to this particular piece without more
research,” James told them. “But generally the curses predict infertility,
impotence, death, dismemberment, painful affairs of the heart, any number of
personal disasters.” He shrugged them all away with a flick of an elegant hand.
“All myth, of course, but a powerful incentive for those inclined to
superstition.”

Gabe
trained his attention on the conjoined pieces. Tipping his head from side to
side, he tried to discern the beauty Molly claimed to see.  He saw only
the hint of a flower. In fact, the form reminded him of a man and a woman.

Intertwined
in a very intimate act.

Pornographic,
in fact.

He
looked closer.

Yes,
by God. From every angle, all he could detect was the linked image of a couple
enjoying uninhibited sex. He fought the urge to drop a cover over it before the
suddenly irresistible Molly Webber realized her beautiful Sleeping Lotus
depicted nothing more artistic than a complicated Kama Sutra pose.

“Are
you sure it’s a flower?” He cleared his throat. “Isn’t it... Isn’t it...?” He
couldn’t think of a way to phrase the question without jeopardizing the
program’s family rating.

“Yes, it’s subtle, isn’t it?” James
stuck his thumbs into his vest pockets and preened. “It’s the finest piece of
twelfth-century Chinese erotica I’ve ever handled.”

The
delectable Molly gasped and leaned in, tilting her head this way and that. Gabe
knew the instant recognition hit her by the color that flooded her cheeks. With
her newfound awareness, her gaze remained riveted on the object.

“Are
you allowed to show this on the air?” she blurted. “There might be children
watching.”

“Of
course,” the appraiser assured her. “We’re public television. It’s
educational.”

“It
is now,” Gabe muttered. “For anyone under the age of ten anyway.”

“But
what does all this ancient Chinese artistry mean in regard to value?” Bless her
heart, Molly returned to the crux of the matter more quickly than Gabe.

“Because
there are only a few complete sets by this artist known to exist, these are
highly sought after by a number of different collecting groups.” The
appraiser’s eyes glinted with avarice. “For a Sleeping Lotus of this quality, a
serious jade, Chinese and/or erotica collector would pay as much as four- to five-hundred-thousand
dollars. Maybe more.”

Gabe looked around in disbelief. 
Had
he heard right?

The
crowd watching their appraisal gasped, then broke into cheers and applause.

“Half-a-million
dollars?” Too stunned to think or say anything more, he pictured a neat row of
zeroes all lined up behind the very beautiful, very curvaceous, very sexy
number five, all of them ready to ride to his rescue.

Hot
damn!
He laughed as a
truckload of worry rolled off his shoulders. His half of half a million dollars
would keep them in business for the rest of the year. If he carefully invested
the money and managed to keep Uncle Roger’s mitts out of the till, it could
keep them going even longer.

And
then, he looked at Molly.
Really
looked at her, couldn’t tear his gaze
away from her, in fact. Everything about her grabbed his attention. Fascinated
him. She smelled delicious, like woman and sex, and something citrusy. And she
glowed with excitement, with exuberance, and with a magnetic earthiness that
left him breathless. And aroused.

Sensuality
surrounded her like an aura of clear red with tinges of gold and purple, vivid
and throbbing. He stared at her, transfixed.

“Five-hundred-thousand
dollars?” She licked her luscious lips. “Fun! How exciting!” She squealed her
delight and jumped up, flinging herself at James for a hug. The expert
appraiser gave her a perfunctory squeeze as he winked at a muscular cameraman
over her shoulder.

Molly
turned to Gabe with her hand outstretched. Her gaze met and locked with his as
their fingers touched. An explosive tingle spread like wildfire from his palm
to his heart to his groin. Zip, zap, bang!

In
a maneuver that seemed as elemental as breathing, Gabe stood and pulled her
into his arms. She settled into place with a shimmy of her shoulders.

Oh,
yeah, he’d been right about the lush figure. Full and firm. An armful of
temptation swathed in basic cotton.

Public
physical displays weren’t his style. But of their own volition his hands cupped
the round cheeks of her bottom, and he aligned her hips with his. They fit
together as neatly as the two pieces of the Sleeping Lotus. Bending his head,
he touched the tip of his tongue to her neck, to a deliciously tempting spot
right beneath her ear. He breathed deeply and savored the irresistibly sweet
and tart combination of Molly Webber.

For
a moment, he got a confusing whiff of oranges and vanilla. The scent prodded
childhood memories of sitting on the front porch steps with his mom and sister,
eating ice cream on a hot summer’s day. He absolutely knew, down to the marrow
of his bones, if he could lick Molly Webber all over, just like one of those
Dreamsicles
in his memory, he’d die a happy man.

He’d
only begun to fully indulge in the fantasy when the cuddly treat pulled away.
She looked up at him, lowered her gaze to his mouth, and then batted her
eyelashes.
Flirtatiously?
After a heartbeat, she batted them again. A
tip of her sweet, pink tongue swept across those full lips. Oh, yeah, definitely
flirtatious.

He
lowered his mouth to hers. At first, he was content to graze the soft warmth of
her lips, taking his time to gauge her response. He teased his tongue along the
seam of her lips, plump and juicy, until she opened for him, pulling him in, kissing
him back.

Sweet,
definitely sweet. And hot. And intense. Elemental. Like rain, or wind, or fire.
Like nothing he’d ever known before. She felt like heaven in his arms, yet his
craving for her clawed at him. She nestled closer.

Pulling
her tight, he surrendered to the swirl of heat and desire spinning around them.
Everything around them faded to white noise.

Fresh
and powerful, the textures of Molly, of everything about her—her mouth, her
body, her response—all of them together, were new and incredible, yet familiar,
too. Like every hot, erotic dream he’d ever had coming to life. He couldn’t
think, he couldn’t breathe, he could only feel and want. He wanted Molly, pure
and simple. He wanted to slip inside her and feel her around him. And he wanted
to keep on kissing her for the next four or five days.

But
James poked Gabe in the ribs. Gabe brushed him away. James poked him again.
Harder.

The
appraiser dragged Molly back to the present by placing a hand on her shoulder.
Damn the man.

“Get
a room,” a deep voice in the crowd hollered.

Gabe
blinked, trying to clear the sensual thoughts that claimed him, yet still
reluctant to let her go.

“Ease
up there, buddy,” James hissed in Gabe’s ear. “Cameras are still rolling, you
know.”

Gabe
reluctantly removed his hand from Molly’s waist and hip.

Most
of the crowd hooted and applauded, encouraging them to continue.

Confusion
spread across her face as she registered their full-body proximity and high-octane
chemistry. She separated herself from him, murmuring, “Definitely not gay.”

“Who,
me?”
What gave her that idea?

She
blinked and eased away. Although she remained inches away from him under the
klieg lights, he felt as though she’d removed all the heat and brightness from
the cavernous room, leaving him cold and alone in the dark.

Still
dazed, he cleared his throat and denied the inexplicable emptiness. And while
he was at it, he ducked behind Molly, hoping to hide his raging hard-on.

She
pressed her fingertips to her lips, as if holding onto their kiss. James picked
up the Lotus and separated the sections. Molly’s expression cleared. She smiled
and continued her round of hugs with the crew, even high-fiving several
spectators on the sidelines.

Whatever
phenomenon had ignited the sexual storm between them began to ebb. However hot
and vivid it had been, it was just an illusion, not important. Not to him and
not to his future. He didn’t need Molly Webber. He didn’t even know her. The
money was the important thing, not the woman. Aside from the few business
dealings necessary to arrange for the sale of the Sleeping Lotus, he’d probably
never see her again.

Returning
to more vital matters, Gabe turned to the appraiser. “You’re sure about the
money?”

“Oh,
absolutely. Although if you can establish provenance, you’d improve your chance
of getting the best price.”

“Establish
what?”

“Provenance.
Its history, the chain of ownership.” James tapped his finger against his chin
for a moment, before continuing. “My colleagues and I wonder how two pieces
created in China, so many centuries ago, have ended up in the same Ohio city,
in the hands of separate owners.” He looked back and forth from Gabe to Molly.
“This isn’t a joke, is it? Are you two married? Related? Old family friends?”

Gabe
shook his head. “Nothing like that.”

“We’ve
never set eyes on one another before.” Molly blushed.

As
Gabe’s brain chugged into action, he puzzled over the way his body had urged
him to do so much more than set eyes on her. It wanted him to set his hands on
her, all over, and then after removing her clothes with the speed of light, set
his mouth on her...

“The
coincidence is incredible, but the two of you share something very special.”

Gabe
managed a stiff nod of agreement. If the last few minutes were any indication,
they shared a lot more than the Sleeping Lotus. “What happens next?”

“I’d
recommend researching the origins and history, but now that the pieces have
been reunited, you should keep them together at all costs.”

Nothing would please Gabe more. He’d do
whatever he had to do to sell the Sleeping Lotus as a combined unit. From the
way his and Molly’s thoughts had synced up, he guessed she’d agree.

With one hand, she clutched a crystal
pendant attached to a chain around her neck. With the other, she stroked a
possessive finger across the jade stalk. Her eyes glowed with delight and
fascination, as brightly as the silver charms on her bracelet gleamed in the
lights. She picked up his piece of jade and cradled it in the palm of her hand.
As she looked up in amazement, he imagined that same expression on her face if
she were stroking
him
.

For the first time in his life, he
seriously envied an inanimate object.

“Be careful what you do next,” James
told Molly after they’d completed her and Gabe’s segment. “The world of serious
Lotus collectors is small, greedy, paranoid, and unscrupulous. As soon as word
of this discovery gets out, you’ll be inundated with offers from people trying
to get the Lotus from you by fair means or foul. Owning the Lotus might turn
out to be a blessing or a curse, in more ways than one.”

He looked around surreptitiously before
continuing. “Frankly, I’d kill to have this in my own collection, but my
contract with the show prevents me from making an offer. If you choose to sell,
I can point you in the direction of a buyer or an appropriate auction site.” He
slipped his business card into Molly’s hand with a wink and a meaningful nod.
“In case you’re ever in need of my services.”

“Thanks!”
She tucked the card into her pocket, too dazed to decipher the meaning of the
wink and nod.

“About that on-air clinch…” James turned
Gabe away from her even though they were still within earshot.

She gulped just thinking of her
unrestrained public reaction to this complicated stranger. Her head—and not
just
her head!—still reeled with aftershocks of desire. Life was too confusing at
the moment to make sense of anything, especially the way she’d melted into him
with a compulsive desire to stick her tongue down his throat and rub herself
against him like a cat.

Gabe cleared his throat. “Sorry about
that.”

Molly closed her eyes against the
memory, only to have the episode flash across her eyelids in bold strokes and
vivid colors. She opened her eyes immediately and turned away, while Gabe
continued. “I hope you can edit it to make our segment
airable
.”

“Sure, no problem. The Sleeping Lotus is
one of our best finds in years. We’ll make it work, but you should know—”
Shooting a glance at Molly, he turned his back on her, too, and leaned close to
Gabe’s ear, talking quickly and too quietly for her to hear.

Gabe darted a guarded look her way, but
responded to James without bothering to keep his voice down. “You mean, like
Spanish fly, oysters, or rhinoceros horn? I don’t believe it.” Shaking his
head, he shook hands with the appraiser and accepted a business card from the
man. “We’ll be in touch.”

Two of the spectators from the
sidelines—a barrel-shaped man in a Reds cap, and a woman who resembled a
woodpecker with a long, thin nose and a shock of
orangish
hair—approached Molly and Gabe, congratulating them on their good fortune. With
greedy eyes, the couple watched Molly handle the jade petals.

“You’re so lucky.” A rhythmic bobbing of
the woman’s head added to the woodpecker effect. “Discovering a Sleeping Lotus
is quite a coup.”

“Thank you.” Molly tried to be polite
even though her emotions still careened wildly. “But I only own half of it.”

“What are you going to do with that
beauty?” The Reds fan’s deep bass voice rumbled like thunder. “There’ll be
collectors coming out of the woodwork with offers for something as rare as
this.”

Uneasy under their scrutiny, she wrapped
the petals in the terry dishtowel she’d bundled it in earlier. “I haven’t had
time to think about it.”

“Whatever you decide, be careful.” The
man echoed James’ words of caution. “Some collectors can be relentless. Isn’t
that right, Ethel?”

“Right you are, Bert. It wouldn’t
surprise me if some rabid erotica enthusiast tried to take advantage of a young
girl like you. Bert and I dabble a bit in Asian carvings, so if you need advice
on selling, just give us a call.” Ethel slid a business card into the front
pocket of Molly’s bag. “We’ll make sure you get top dollar.”

“Thanks.” Molly edged closer to Gabe,
eager to end the discussion. “I’ll be careful.”