“How much?” she whispered.
“Shhh. He probably knows more English than he lets on. Let me handle this.”
Five minutes of heated bargaining later, Jason drew a banknote from his wallet to pay for the scarf. “Wait,” Alana said, tugging at his arm. “I can’t let you—”
He ignored her protest, pocketed his change, then dexterously looped the scarf around her neck and tied it in a festive bow. He smiled down at her. “It’s less than the cost of our lunch,” he said patiently. “You didn’t say anything about that.”
“That was different.” She struggled to explain. “That was a...a date. Like all our other dates. This is a gift.”
He brushed back a lock of her hair that had fallen forward and tucked it behind her ear. “The scarf was made for you. It matches your eyes, you know.”
“Yes, but...”
“I paid a tenth of the asking price. Not so expensive.”
“Yes, but...”
“It gives me pleasure to see you wearing my gift, Alana. Would you deny me that small enjoyment?”
When he put it that way, she could only accept with as much grace as she could muster. “Thank you. It’s very sweet of you. I just don’t want you to think I expect...that is, I can afford to buy...I mean—”
“I understand. And I’ll answer the question you wouldn’t ask. I can afford it.” His smile was tender. “Did you think I wouldn’t notice you picked the least expensive item on the menu at every restaurant I’ve taken you to these past two weeks?”
Now she was really flustered. “Oh, I...”
* * *
It was really quite endearing, Jason thought. But did she honestly not know he could well afford to buy her anything her heart desired? But you haven’t driven the Jag since you began taking her out, his conscience reminded him. You didn’t want her to know...
Alana came from money. Mei-li had told him all about it, including how Alana had ended up as Dirk’s executive assistant. But there was money...and then there was money. Millions versus billions. Just as he didn’t want Alana to confuse gratitude over her rescue with the attraction she felt toward him, he didn’t want her dazzled by his immense wealth, either. Which was why he’d rented a middle-class car for his dates with her. He didn’t mind her knowing he was comfortably well-off. He wasn’t going to pretend to a life of poverty. But he wasn’t going to flaunt anything, either; wasn’t going to announce that he could buy and sell her father’s company ten times over.
He took Alana’s arm and they continued strolling down the crowded street. They paused every now and then to look at something that caught her eye, but she wouldn’t let him buy her anything more even though he offered several times.
Jason was well aware he and Alana drew more than their fair share of interest from the people they passed. He was taller than most Han Chinese, for one thing. And he didn’t look Chinese. But cosmopolitan Hong Kong was used to British, Australian and American residents and tourists, so both of those things would have been quickly dismissed...if he hadn’t been with Alana.
Young, delicately beautiful, with long, dark hair, which she wore down, and those unusual eyes. Did she know her resemblance to her famous cousin Juliana—long acknowledged as one of the most beautiful women in the world—made both men and women give her second and third glances? Covetous looks from the men, envious looks from the women. She didn’t seem to be aware, and that intrigued him. He’d been with beautiful women before—his wealth drew them like bees to honey. But other than his mother and sister, he’d never known a beautiful woman who didn’t trade on her beauty. Who didn’t play it up every chance she had.
Until Alana.
She was wearing a simple lavender blue sundress today, which had been unadorned except for a simple silver locket until he’d bought her the scarf. Sandals on her slender feet meant lots of bare leg showing, which would have drawn comments of the wolfish variety in Cantonese...if Jason hadn’t been at her side.
He’d brought her here to the Ladies’ Market deliberately, although he hadn’t told her that. This wasn’t the same street from which she’d been abducted three weeks ago, but it was similar. And in a strange way Jason had wanted to make sure she wasn’t afraid to return to the scene of the crime, as it were. Hong Kong was his city. He’d spent years in England attending an elite boarding school like his father before him, then studying at Oxford. But Hong Kong was his home, and most likely always would be. He didn’t want one bad experience to taint Alana’s perception of the city.
He’d considered bringing her here on their first date two Saturdays ago, but had rejected that as a bad idea since her abduction had been too fresh in her mind at that point. So he’d taken her to another tourist destination instead, the Tian Tan Buddha on Lantau Island. He’d been so—he couldn’t think of a better word than enamored—of her after their first date that he’d invited her to spend the next day with him, as well...an invitation she’d promptly accepted.
She doesn’t play games, Jason had reminded himself then and several times since, loving Alana’s open delight in the sights she’d visited with him, as well as being in his company.
He’d monopolized her free time the past two weeks, but he hadn’t so much as kissed her for one critical reason—once he started, he didn’t trust himself to stop. And he’d promised her she’d be as safe with him as she wanted to be. She was a temptation he didn’t want to resist, but he’d given her his word...and he always kept his word. Until Alana gave him the green light, it was easier not to start than to stop partway.
But that meant he’d spent nearly every moment with her in a constant state of semiarousal. Painful, but it wouldn’t kill him. At least that was what he’d told himself...repeatedly. Problem was, the ache only grew stronger and more urgent the more time he spent in her company. Jason knew the day was not too far off when something would have to give.
* * *
They finally reached the end of the long street, and Alana said abruptly, “I’m hungry.”
Jason smiled. “Not surprising, given how little you ate at lunch.”
“Yes, well...” She didn’t want to revisit that discussion. “All this walking has given me an appetite.” She pointed to the McDonald’s across the street and halfway down the block. “I’d like one of those taro pies. Do you mind?”
Alana stepped back on the sidewalk to allow three young women chattering away in Cantonese to pass them, and Jason did the same. Then she continued, “I know fried anything isn’t all that healthy for you, but I don’t care. I love the little fried apple pies at McDonald’s in the US, but the taro ones here in Hong Kong are to die for.” She put her hand on her purse. “My treat, okay?”
He’d just opened his mouth—probably to argue with her—when it happened. A white van screeched to a halt in the middle of the cross street, and the side door slammed open. Alana watched in horror as two men wearing black masks jumped out and grabbed the smallest and prettiest of the three women who’d just passed them on the sidewalk. One of the men held a white cloth over the woman’s nose and mouth. She struggled for a moment, then sagged limply against her attacker. The other masked man pushed the woman’s two companions to the ground, then he joined the first, and together they began dragging the unconscious woman toward the white van double-parked in the road with its engine running.
For a split second déjà vu held Alana frozen, then she darted forward. “Stop!” She grabbed the arm of one man and kicked at the legs