Fortune Is a Woman - Elizabeth Adler [124]
She leaned on the rail searching the darkness for the shores of China, telling herself that this was the end of her little fantasy. Suddenly she felt him beside her and she turned her head to look at him.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” he said quietly.
She shrugged her shoulders delicately. “It’s the end of the voyage. Isn’t that the usual time for these little shipboard flirtations to break up?”
“Flirtations?” She could see the hurt in his eyes. “It was more than that to me,” he said, putting his hands on her shoulders. “I’m in love with you,” he said. “I want you to come back with me and meet my family. I want to show you Strattons. I know you’ll fall in love with it and then you won’t be able to say no to me.”
He kissed her and she closed her eyes, feeling the roughness of his chin against her skin, breathing the faint citrusy scent of his cologne. Her body was melting into his with ripples of pleasure; she wanted to run her hands through his hair, to hold him even closer. She wanted Edward Stratton and she couldn’t have him. It was as simple as that.
“I must go,” she said, pulling herself away from his arms.
“Say you’ll see mc again,” he begged. “I’ll be in Shanghai for two weeks and then I’ll be back in Hong Kong. Please let me see you, Francesca?”
She shrugged again, hurrying away from him. “Maybe,” she called over her shoulder.
The S.S. Orient anchored in Hong Kong Bay early the next morning and the smart little white launch from the Hong Kong Hotel sped toward it to pick up its guests and transport them to Pedder’s Wharf. Francie felt Edward’s eyes on her as she stepped into it and she glanced up. He was leaning on the rail, smart in a tropical white suit and panama hat and so handsome and serious-looking, it tugged her heart. He raised his arm in farewell and she lifted her hand in return. And then she turned her face toward Hong Kong and her real life again.
CHAPTER 27
The Hong Kong Hotel was on the corner of tree-lined Pedder Street, overlooking the harbor. To the right was the Praya, a long esplanade with the palatial offices of the hongs, the great merchant trading companies. Their house flags fluttered importantly in the breeze and their smart launches were moored in front, ready to transport the powerful taipans to and from their ships. A one-hundred-and-fifty-foot-tall clock tower dominated Pedder Street, though its clock was said to suffer from “indispositions” because of the climate and no one ever set their watches by it. The steep green hills hung behind the waterfront like a painted backdrop, dotted with pines and eucalyptus and huge white marble villas. The blue bay was crammed with ships of every sort: old sea-going junks and enormous white steamers jostled for space with shabby sampans and smart launches, and a line of coolies waited on the jetty ready to haul baggage to the hotels. And behind them, waiting for Francie, was Lai Tsin. He was wearing his usual blue robes and round silk hat and she thought that, for the first time, he looked as though he belonged.
He shook her hand, bowing to her, his eyes smiling a welcome and she could tell he was as glad to see her as she was to see him. He walked with her across the road to the hotel and then left her there, saying he would meet her in an hour’s time.
The Hong Kong Hotel described itself as the most commodious and best-appointed hotel in the Far East; it was, solidly comfortable in colonial British style with gas-lit bedrooms and bathrooms en suite, hydraulic elevators, Grips restaurant, and a grill-room that served Western-style chops and steaks at any hour. Francie inspected it critically, thinking of Annie’s plans for a new hotel, and she thought Annie could do it better. Still, the service was remarkable, her bags were