Her Singapore Fling by Kelly Hunter

container, takeaway container, condensed milk for coffee. Water, beer, beer glasses, peanut butter, and eggs. The leftover butterchicken was tempting but, unlike Po and Jacob, Jianne did not do five or six hours of constant physical exercise a day.
    Nocturnal activities notwithstanding.
    An orange and a cup of tea, then, and a cup for Po as well. And maybe some thought given to grocery shopping, for in spite of her background of privilege and household staff Jianne knew how to cook. She hadn’t always. When she’d married Jacob she’d barely been able to butter toast and hadn’t really seen a reason why anyone would want to. Nowadays her cooking expertise spanned Chinese, Japanese, Thai, and French cuisine. She still wasn’t overly fond of buttered toast.
    â€˜What time did you get in last night?’ she asked the boy.
    â€˜Before one,’ he said. ‘I didn’t see anyone watching the dojo.’
    Jianne couldn’t contemplate the kind of life Po must have led for him to speak so casually of working until one and keeping an eye out for people watching the dojo on his way home. She wanted to object to both activities. What she said was, ‘Thanks for keeping an eye out.’
    â€˜Who’s after you?’ he asked curiously.
    â€˜A man. A very powerful and persistent man.’
    â€˜Did you steal from him?’
    â€˜No. Nothing quite so simple. He wants me for his consort.’
    â€˜Can you say it in Chinese?’ he said.
    â€˜He wants me to be his companion, preferably his wife. Both our families are very powerful. A union would be advantageous.’
    â€˜Advantageous?’
    â€˜It’d be good for business,’ she said, switching once more to English.
    â€˜But not for you,’ he said solemnly.
    â€˜I don’t love him. I don’t even like him.’ Jianne shook her head. ‘A union between us wouldn’t be very good for me at all.’
    â€˜So you ran away and ended up here,’ said Po.
    Jianne nodded. ‘So how many words did you just learn meanings for?’ she asked.
    â€˜Three.’
    â€˜What was the third?’
    â€˜Union.’
    â€˜Ah.’
    â€˜Sensei says I’ve got a good brain,’ said Po. Not a boast. A trying-on of a new persona for size.
    â€˜I think he’s right.’
    â€˜About what?’ said Jacob from the doorway.
    â€˜Po’s brain.’ Jianne looked to the doorway in as casual a fashion as she could manage. ‘Has your class finished already?’
    â€˜No, but I thought you might be leaving for work early. Po, you want to go out front and keep an eye on the class until I get back?’
    Po nodded, and slipped away, leaving silence in his wake.
    Jianne risked a more thorough perusal of the man she’d given herself over to last night. He had the faint outline of fingernail marks on his forearms. His T-shirt and trousers covered the other marks she’d put on him.
    â€˜I’m not sorry,’ she said regally, and the faintest of smiles crossed his lips.
    â€˜I promised myself I wouldn’t take advantage of you while you were under my protection,’ he said in gruff reply.
    â€˜Noble of you,’ she countered and sipped her tea. ‘What was your position on me taking advantage of you ?’
    â€˜I thought it unlikely.’
    â€˜Ah.’ Jianne bestowed a smile upon him. ‘No concrete position on that eventuality, then. Maybe you should come up with one and leave out the guilt.’
    â€˜Maybe I will.’ He studied what he could see of her that wasn’t hidden by the table. ‘Did I hurt you?’
    She had a bruise or two, in places. Was a little tender, in places. But the wildness of their encounter had been her choice just as much as his. ‘I think I broke a nail,’ she said demurely.
    This time Jacob’s smile went all the way to his eyes.
    â€˜Will you pick me up from work this afternoon?’ she