“Fi intimated that Mrs. Swann asked something similar of her and Hawksmoor,” Glory admitted. “She said that it wasn’t a bad experience, and in fact, their relationship may have benefited from it. And Mrs. Swann kept her word.”
Wei drew his brows together. “As the Hawksmoors are married, their situation is different.”
“In our hearts, are we any less committed?”
“No, but in the eyes of society, we most certainly are.” His gaze turned penetrating. “What is this really about?”
Feeling very exposed, Glory looked at her shoes. “You told me that you hated being treated like a dirty secret. By Chun, I mean. It occurs to me that I have been doing the same—not intentionally, of course. And you have been so patient, agreeing to wait—”
“Glory.” Wei tucked a finger under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “I understand. And you don’t have to worry because I will wait for you—weeks or years. Even a lifetime, if that is what it takes. Because you are everything I want, and I will not settle for less. I will have my freckled, ferret-loving little tigress or no one at all.”
His devotion stole her breath and filled her heart to bursting.
A tear leaked down her cheek. “You…you truly would wait that long for me?”
He thumbed the droplet away, his gaze so fierce and tender. “How could you doubt it?”
“Then let us not waste tonight,” she whispered. “I’ve missed you. For this one evening, let us celebrate our love, and the rest of the world can go hang itself.”
He swallowed, and she could see him fighting his desire for her. Fighting his own needs because he wanted to protect her. Because he loved her.
He looked deep into her eyes. “Are you certain you want this?”
“I want you.” She let everything she felt for this extraordinary man shine in her gaze, her smile. “Make love to me, please?”
Thirty-Three
Glory’s dimples had always been Wei’s undoing.
He blamed them for the fact that he was heading down a perfumed corridor with her, toward a room that Mrs. Swann had claimed would be the ideal setting for them to explore their fantasies… as if the bloody woman knew anything about Wei’s desires. He and Glory reached the room at the end, the flower upon the door matching the one stamped on the key in his hand.
“This is it,” he said. “There is still time to change your mind—”
Glory squeezed his hand. “I want this. I want you.”
Bloody hell. Despite his misgivings, his cock stiffened in anticipation.
He slid the key into the lock, and a silky click later, they were inside. Disbelief thumped in his chest as he beheld the room.
How did that blasted Swann woman know?
Red lanterns bathed the chamber in a seductive glow. The latticed screens and carved rosewood furnishings, combined with the sultry spice of incense, brought him back to his debauched youth. The nights he’d sought oblivion through lustful vices. A beaded curtain swayed gently to some invisible current, the movement making the carpeted floor seem to rock beneath his feet.
Silk peonies bloomed in a porcelain vase. There was a round table, set with a decanter of rice wine and two small cups. Beyond that, visible through the beaded curtain, was a large bed set upon a dais.
“What is this place supposed to be?” Glory said in a hushed voice.
“A flower boat.” At her inquiring look, he clarified, “The Pearl River Delta is infamous for its floating brothels. The flower boats, as they are known, pride themselves on offering every vice under the sun. On satisfying any desire, no matter how depraved.”
“Oh.” She peered at him. “Have you, um, frequented a flower boat?”
He nodded gruffly. “After my family was killed and before I met Shifu Lam, I visited a number of disreputable places.”
Although his chest burned with shame, he didn’t want to lie to her about the past. About anything.
She tilted her head. “And did you, um, satisfy your desires?”
“Whatever relief I found was temporary.” His gut twisted at the sordid memories, that feeling of dirtiness and despair. “Afterward, I felt worse. Angrier at myself for being a selfish bastard.”
