“Oh, terribly cruel.”
She crossed the softly lighted room to the low-standing bed and pulled back the quilted blankets. The sheets were yellow silk. She stretched out on them, her golden thighs slightly parted, the shaven petals of her sex visible in dust-soft shadows. Her hair was fanned across both pillows. Smiling at him, she put the tip of one finger against her right breast and murmured wordlessly as the nipple rose and stiffened under it.
So beautiful! he thought. So exquisitely beautiful!
She patted the mattress beside her.
The general was a good, unselfish lover. He did for her all the things he wanted her to do for him; and after they had spent nearly an hour preparing each other, he mounted her. His compact, muscular body was powerful yet gentle in the act. She had no need to pretend a long, shuddering climax, for it came to her almost as soon as he began to thrust within her. And a few minutes after she had convulsed beneath him a second time, he groaned softly and emptied his seed deep into her.
“Tai-Pan,” she said.
He kissed her neck.
Later they sat up in bed and sipped mint tea which she had made in a silver pot. They ate miniature cakes sprinkled with honey, raisins, and toasted almonds.
When he was full of cakes, he got out of bed and retrieved a small box and a long beige envelope from his clothes. He placed the envelope on the mirrored tray atop her vanity and brought the box back to the bed. He gave it to her and said, “An imperfect gift for a perfect woman.”
As delighted as a child, she put down her teacup and unwrapped the box. She withdrew from it a long, fine- linked gold chain at the end of which was suspended a single jade teardrop. Carved in the stone were the basic features of a lovely oriental woman. “Oh,” she said breathlessly, “it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.”
“It is nothing.”
“But it is magnificent!”
“It is unworthy of you.”
“I am unworthy of it.”
“You deserve far more.”
“You are too generous.”
Gradually, each allowed himself to be flattered. Yin-hsi slipped the chain around her neck, and the jade fell between her smooth, heavy breasts. They agreed that the jewelry was perhaps the most beautiful piece of its kind in the world — and that it looked more beautiful between her breasts than it could have looked on any other woman who had ever lived. Both of them blushed and smiled.
After they had sipped brandy for a few minutes, he said, “How have your household funds been holding up? Am I giving you enough to meet the bills?”
She was surprised, for he had never asked about this during the last six years. “More than enough. You are too generous with me, Tai-Pan. I have accumulated a large surplus in the bank. Would you like to see my records?”
“No, no. The surplus is yours.”
“I manage the accounts well. You can be proud of me.”
He kissed her cheek. “Today I am leaving an envelope which contains four million Korean won.” At the current exchange rate, four hundred and fifty won equaled one United States dollar.
“That is too much!” she said.
“Is it sufficient to run the house for one year?”
“Perhaps two years! And stylishly!”
“Good. I would not want you to be in need of anything.”
Worry lines appeared in her face. “You are not going away for an entire year?”
“I hope not.”
“But maybe?”
“Maybe forever.”
The worry lines deepened. She bit her lower lip. “You are teasing me.”
“There is serious trouble in Peking.”
She waited.
“A great danger,” he said, thinking of the Americans and their Dragonfly project. “Perhaps the problem will be quickly dealt with. If not… Many of my people will die, and there will be months of chaos, disorder.”
“Do not go back,” she said.
“I am Chinese.”
“So am I!”
“I am a Communist.”
“You cannot really believe in Communism, not deep in your heart.”
“But I do. I do not expect you to believe, but I do. And a man cannot run away from his philosophy.”
“You love Communism more than you love me.”
“I have been with you six years,” he said softly. “And I love you more than I ever ever loved a woman. But Communism has been my entire life, and to deny it would be to deny myself.”
Tears shimmered on her eyelashes.
“Do not cry.”
She cried.
He raised his voice and became sharp with her. “You are disgracing your family. You are supposed to improve my spirits, not deflate them. What manner of concubine are you? Either you will stop crying at once, or I will punish you severely.”
She rolled off the bed and ran from the room.
Leaning back against the pillows, he tossed off the rest of his brandy and managed to hold back his own tears. Damn these Americans! What fools! What maniacs!
Ten minutes later she returned and climbed into bed with him. Her eyes were clear. She had refreshed the light coat of makeup that she wore. “I am a failure,” she said.
“Oh, yes. Oh, yes, yes, yes,” he said with mock severity. “You are such a failure, a terrible failure. Oh yes!”
Her smile was weak; her lips trembled.
He put one hand on her firm breasts.
She said, “Must you return today?”
“Within the hour. I should never have left Peking in the middle of such a crisis. But I had to see you once more and be sure that you were provided for. If I get back tonight, I will not have been
Without another word she slid down in the bed until her face was in his lap. She began to kiss him there. A few minutes later she said, “Do you desire me again?”
“Would you have me say no when the proof of the lie is in your hand?” he asked.
“Indisputable proof,” she said, squeezing his erect member.
“Come to me.”
Soon after they had finished, he got out of bed and began to dress. When she started to get up too, he said, “No. Lie down. I want to look at you while I dress. I want to take away with me the picture of you naked on my bed.”
She smiled for him.
“At the end of a year,” he said, “consider yourself free. Wait twelve months, but no longer.”
She said nothing.
“Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” she said all but inaudibly.
“I will most likely return in a month.”
She nodded.
He hugged her to him once more before he left. Outside, as he walked away along the pine-shrouded alley
