White Ginger by Thatcher Robinson Page A

another theory. “Maybe he’s gone to ground because he’s heard his house got burned down. That would certainly get my attention.”
    Jason looked at her with a bemused expression. “A definite possibility,” he conceded. He seemed to contemplate a moment before adding, “My guess, and it’s only a guess, is Sammy Tu knows something’s gone south. He just doesn’t know exactly what. If he can get in touch with his Wah Ching associates who were at the café, he’ll start putting the pieces together. I think we have to go on the assumption he knows we’re coming for him and he’ll do his best to avoid us.”
    â€œThere’s no chance he’d just give Jia up and write the whole thing off as bad business?”
    Jason grinned, obviously entertained by the thought. “That would be the reasonable thing to do. Nobody’s ever accused Sammy Tu of being reasonable. He has a reputation for being greedy.”
    â€œThen we do it the hard way?”
    â€œThat would seem to be the story.”
    He seemed resigned and stared at her dispassionately.
    She patted the seat next to her. “I need a shoulder.”
    He took a moment to think about her request before turning to settle in the seat next to her. She leaned into him as his arm wrapped around her shoulders. It seemed like old times. Tears unexpectedly welled in her eyes.
    â€œWhere are we flying out of?” she asked.
    She didn’t really care. The question was tossed out as a distraction. She could feel the heat rising in her chest as her hip pressed against his.
    â€œWe’re flying out of SFO, a nine o’clock flight on Canadian Air that will put us into Vancouver around midnight. I have people meeting us on the ground.”
    She snuggled, like a burrowing rabbit, into his shoulder. His suit smelled nice—wool and cologne, with a hint of man. Her eyes closed as she reveled in being held while Elizabeth’s warning echoed repeatedly in her head, the words growing fainter with each passing moment.
    â€œHow is Dan?” he asked.
    She smiled at the thought of her daughter. “She’s fine.”
    She could feel his body tense as she reached over to cup his chin and turn his face toward hers. Her lips grazed his before he put his hand behind her neck and pulled her into him. His tongue found hers, and they were locked together. He leaned back onto the bench seat, and she eased down on top of him. What started out as a gentle kiss quickly escalated. She tugged at his jacket while his hand found its way inside her T-shirt to cup her breast.
    She pulled away suddenly to catch her breath. An avalanche of thoughts tumbled through her head. She wasn’t a kid anymore. The idea of screwing Jason in the backseat of the limo was, on the one hand, appalling, while on the other hand, enormously appealing. Her rational mind said no! no! no! Her libido said yes, yes, yes. She froze in indecision while Jason’s practiced hands melted her resolve.
    â€œThis is crazy,” she said, as she shrugged off her jacket.
    He pulled off her shirt as she sat up to straddle him. Then he leaned back with a smile on his face.
    She leaned down to whisper in his ear as he reached around to unhook her bra. “I hope the partition is soundproof. I wouldn’t want the driver to get the wrong impression when you start begging for mercy.”
    She pulled at his belt. He popped the buttons on her jeans, hooked his thumbs in the waistband, and pulled as she rolled off of him. She bounced across the aisle and onto the facing seat to kick off her shoes with her pants around her knees. He grabbed the cuffs of her jeans and pulled, nearly upending her as the pants peeled away. Then he sat back and stared at her with a critical eye.
    â€œYou look good,” he said appreciatively. “Really good.”
    â€œNot as good as I did ten years ago.”
    She took off her panties and threw them at him.