Authors: Elizabeth Adler
She smiled at him as the elevator took them up only three
floors of the skyscraper. “That’s because I’m a clever woman. Or hadn’t you noticed?” She opened the door and they went in.
‘“I was too busy noticing how beautiful you are,” he said, shutting the door behind him and grabbing her close.
“
You feel like soft Chinese silk,” he murmured kissing her left ear. “And you smell spicy, of ginger flowers and sandalwood.” His mouth traveled to her neck and he was kissing the throbbing pulse at the base of her throat, then moving upward to her lips. “And your mouth tastes of champagne,” he said, drinking her in until she could hardly breathe.
Pushing him away, she took his hand and led him to her bedroom, a tiny space with poppy red walls, a king-sized bed with an ebony leather headboard, a black silk spread, sweeping red silk curtains and pretty gold-shaded lamps.
‘Like a high-class whore’s bedroom,” he said, laughing, and though in truth Mary-Lou was a little offended by his comment, she laughed with him.
“Wait here,” she said, pushing him backward onto the bed and walking out of the room.
She returned a few’ minutes later wearing a black silk robe embroidered with red dragons and with nothing underneath. She was carrying another bottle of champagne and two flutes.
“I thought we might have a little more,” she said, filling the glasses. His look as she handed one to him devoured her. He put the glass on the table and reached for the sash of her robe, pulling her toward him.
“Come here,” he said throatily. Untying the sash and throwing
open the robe, he gazed at her beautiful naked body. Then he pulled her onto his lap and began to kiss her.
She wiggled her arms out of the sleeves and lay back, naked on the bed, looking into his eyes as he hovered hungrily over her. Then he picked up the bottle of champagne and tipped it up, letting the wine trickle over her breasts, down her belly, into her nakedness.
“Wonderful,” he said, licking it off her cool smooth skin. “Delicious, Mary-Lou Chen.”
I
N
the next few weeks, when she wasn’t thinking about Bennett Yuan, Mary-Lou was thinking about the necklace. It was the answer to all her prayers—if she ever prayed that is. It would be easy enough to get her hands on it; the problem was to find a buyer rich enough to pay what she wanted. She didn’t know the international superrich; they moved in a different world from hers.
She stood at the window of her apartment, smoking a cigarette and staring at the busy barge traffic on the river, thinking that she was okay as a “girlfriend” to a rich man, but that no one had ever so much as mentioned marriage. Rich men simply didn’t marry girls like her. They forged alliances. Money married money, especially here in China.
Bennett Yuan was different, though. Everyone knew how his wife had died. The speculation about it had made the nightly TV reports for over a week, as well as all the newspapers. Rumor was one of the great information circuits of the city and she’d heard that when the Yuans’ daughter had married Bennett, the wealthy family had insisted he change his name to theirs, so that their “dynasty” would continue through their children. She’d also seen the pictures of Bennett’s wife on TV. Ana Yuan was a plain, modestly dressed young woman, and of course rumors abounded that the handsome young American had married her for her money.
Nothing wrong with that, Mary-Lou thought. She would have done the same herself, given the opportunity. But again, so rumor had it, it had turned out that the Yuans had Ana’s money tied up in a family trust, and they also had Bennett tied up in such a way he could never get his hands on it.
After Ana’s death, they had tried to prevent Bennett from using their prestigious name, but they had not succeeded. But they had revoked Ana’s trust so that all the money and property, including the lavish marital apartment in one of Shanghai’s most exclusive towers, reverted back to the family. When they were asked why they took such drastic steps, rumor said their implacable reply was “He is a foreigner. He is not ‘family.’ He has no Yuan children. He is of no value to us now.”
Of course it was also said around town that this was true, and that Bennett had not inherited a penny. All Mary-Lou knew was that he had told her he’d loved his wife and that he was devastated by her tragic death. And that he’d never been able to find out what she was doing in Suzhou anyway.
And that was that. Bennett was on his own. And he was definitely not a rich man, even though he still acted like one. In fact Bennett was like her: a “soldier of fortune,” a good-looking man who believed he was entitled to the good life, whichever way he could get it. Bennett would marry another heiress, she was sure of that. And she was just as sure he would not marry her.
She scowled with frustration as she stubbed out her cigarette. She wanted two things from life. She wanted Bennett. And she wanted to sell the necklace and get rich. Somehow the two were tied together . . . the necklace and Bennett.
The answer came to her suddenly.
Of course!
Bennett knew wealthy businesspeople, not only in China, but also abroad. He was the perfect candidate to help her find a buyer. It would mean she would have to part with fifty percent of the profit but since the necklace was stolen anyway—it would
all
be profit. Except . . . Another idea struck her and this time she smiled. She knew how to get exactly the two things she wanted. Bennett
and
the money. And this time she would not end up as the disposable girlfriend.
She laughed at how clever—how
simple
—her plan was. Bennett would find a buyer and she would steal the necklace from the safe.
But
she would not hand it over unless he married her first. Then he’d sell it and they’d both be rich. It was the perfect circle: buyer—wedding—necklace—money. They would live happily ever after.
Pleased with her plan, she called Bennett and arranged to meet him at seven that evening at the Cloud 9 bar atop the Grand Hyatt hotel, across the river in the business section called Pudong.
D
RIVING
through the tunnel that connected the two districts in her new red Mini Cooper, Mary-Lou thought about Bennett in a completely different way. She no longer saw him as the handsome man-about-town, the perfect lover that she couldn’t get enough of. For the first time she was using her head and thinking like a businesswoman.
She was smiling as she handed over the car to the valet and entered the imposing Jin Mao Tower, the world’s third tallest building. The hotel occupied the fifty-third to eighty-seventh floors and she took the high-speed elevator to the very top, emerging into the glittering art deco bar with its stunning view over all Shanghai, so high in the sky that the clouds hovered outside the very windows. Hence the bar’s name, Cloud 9.
Looking around, she didn’t see Bennett so she took a seat at a booth and ordered a vodka martini. “With three blue-cheese olives,” she instructed the waiter, telling him she liked her martinis very cold with just a splash of vermouth. Mary-Lou always knew exactly what she wanted.
She sipped the drink, thinking about how she would approach the subject of the necklace with Bennett. She had just decided on her tactics when she saw him enter the bar. He spoke to the pretty hostess who, she noticed, irritated, smiled engagingly at him before escorting him personally to the table. She also noticed that Bennett gave the girl that deep, very personal smile back, and it irritated the hell out of her again.
“Sorry I’m late,” Bennett slid into the booth opposite. He didn’t kiss her, or reach for her hand, merely gave her a tired smile. “Traffic,” he added.
Mary-Lou had encountered no problems with the traffic but she didn’t mention that, merely waiting until he’d ordered a Jack Daniel’s on the rocks and the waiter had departed, before she said anything.
“I have a secret,” she said, looking him in the eye.
“I’ll bet you do. I just hope it doesn’t concern me.” He lit a cigarette without offering her one and she frowned. Something was wrong.
“I just might not tell you,” she said, ostentatiously taking out her own cigarette and waiting for him to offer to light it, which he did, grinning mockingly at her.
“So okay, don’t,” he said. “It’s a safe way to keep a secret.”
“Ah, but this one does concern you. And it’s something you
would be very pleased to know.” Unable to contain herself any longer, she took out her cell phone and laid it on the table between them. “Check out the photograph on there,” she said softly. “I think it will surprise you.”
Bennett took a slug of his Jack Daniel’s, making no move to pick up the phone.
“Go on,” she urged him. “I guarantee you’re going to like what you see.”
Sighing, Bennett picked it up and pressed the button. An out-of-focus picture of the necklace appeared on the screen. “What’s this, it’s all blurred,” he said impatiently.
“Press again.”
He did and this time the necklace appeared more clearly. He looked at it for a few moments, then clicked off the phone and handed it back to her. “So?” he asked, sitting back and sipping his bourbon.
Mary-Lou put her elbows on the table and leaned closer. Glancing around to make sure she was not overheard, she said softly, “That necklace is the real thing. Not only does it have jewels worth a fortune, it also has a provenance that discriminating international buyers will be prepared to pay a premium for.”
She sat back, waiting for him to act all eager and amazed, but he did not. He simply looked coldly at her and said again, “So?”
“Let me tell you the story,” she said, and feeling like Scheherazade, she recounted the history of the Dragon Lady Empress’s famous pearl. “I know where this necklace is,” she said finally. “I can get my hands on it right now, or tomorrow, or next week, if you wish. But first I need a buyer. And that, my darling
Bennett, is where you come in.” A triumphant smile lit her lovely face as she sat back, looking at him.
He looked coldly back at her. “I’m guessing the necklace is stolen. Are you asking me to become a fence, Mary-Lou?”
“Not a fence. A partner.” She was deadly serious now. “I have the goods, you get the buyer.” She did not tell him the third part of the equation—marriage—and nor would she until the buyer was ready and eager to hand over his money and take possession.
Bennett lifted his shoulder in a casual shrug. “I don’t need this kind of deal, I have my own business to run.”
She knew all about Bennett’s “business.” She had made it her own business to find out about it. The Yuans had set him up exporting furniture components but with the end of his marriage that too was drying up. Bennett was a big spender. He needed money to live big, just like she did. They were two of a kind, a perfect match.
“Bennett, this necklace could make both of us very rich. You would never have to think of furniture again. I have the goods, you find the buyer, we split the take fifty-fifty.”
He finished his drink in one gulp and signaled the waiter for another. “All I’ve seen is a picture. All I’ve heard is a story. How do I know it’s true and that this necklace really exists?”
“I guess, Bennett,” Mary-Lou said, shaking back her short, glossy black bangs and giving him that enchanting smile again, “you’ll just have to trust me.”
D
ENNETT
thought Mary-Lou was beautiful. She was sexy and amusing, but for him she was like an hors d’oeuvre, tasty and to be nibbled on and enjoyed with a drink. The “main course” had to be more substantial and bring something else to the table besides just looks. He thought he’d achieved that when he married Ana Yuan—for her millions of course. Why not? But despite all his careful planning that had gone badly wrong. He’d suffered as the poor boy at the rich man Yuan’s table. This time he needed to find an heiress without a family attached. And this time he’d make sure she had the money in her own pocket before he married her.
His wife had been dead more than six months and he was at a point in his life where he was just marking time, trying to decide
what to do next. Mary-Lou had been an exciting temporary diversion. But it was time to move on and tonight he’d planned on telling her that. Now though, she had come up with this necklace scheme, based, as far as he could tell, on a fuzzy photograph she claimed to have taken of these “rare” jewels and the story of the “corpse” pearl. A story that appealed to him, in fact, though he doubted its veracity.
“Exactly
who
has this necklace?” He took another cube of ice from the crystal bucket and added it to his drink.
“I can’t tell you that.”
He glanced up, brows raised. “You mean you expect me to sell jewels for you without knowing where they come from? Come on, Mary-Lou, you won’t find a criminal in town who’d go that route. How do I know you’re not going to kill someone to get your hands on that necklace?”
Her amber-speckled eyes turned as cold as his iced bourbon. “I will,” she said. “If I have to.”
Bennett sat back and picked up his glass. He thought Mary-Lou might have the face of an angel, but she had a soul forged of pure cold steel. He liked that. They were alike in more ways than one. He took a sip of the bourbon, looking at her.
“I’m still not convinced,” he said. “And anyway, I wouldn’t work with you without knowing the whereabouts of the necklace and who has it now.”
“I can’t tell you that.” She was stubborn but he knew she was softening.
He reached across the table for her hand. “Look, sweetheart,” he said in the patronizing tone she knew well from other “rich”
men who’d dumped her for the next pretty girl, “you’re asking me to work in the dark, put myself in possible legal jeopardy without knowing the facts. Get real. Tell me what’s what, or let’s just say ‘goodbye, it was fun while it lasted.’ Right now.”
It was the “let’s say goodbye right now” part that got to her, just as he’d known it would. Tears swam in those beautiful eyes and she gripped his hand tightly. “Don’t say that,” she whispered, “please don’t say that, Bennett.”